Theirs to Protect (Theirs - A Double Dom Series Book 2) Read online

  Theirs to Protect

  by Renee Rose

  Copyright © February 2017 Theirs to Protect by Renee Rose. Originally copyright October 2016 as part of the Because Beards Anthology

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published in the United States of America

  Renee Rose Romance

  Editor:

  Kate Richards, Wizards in Publishing

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to Alexis Alvarez and all the authors and organizers of Because Beards, a wonderful anthology for a wonderful cause!

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter One

  Sloane dropped the heavy stack of case folders into the leather passenger seat of her white Prius. The back of her neck prickled and she paused, spinning around to scan the parking lot outside the Tucson city courthouse. For the third time that week she had that creepy feeling of being watched.

  She shook it off and climbed behind the wheel. Probably she was just being paranoid. She sighed. At three in the afternoon, her day was only half over. She had to review the stack of files before Judge Tell’s retirement party that night.

  Starbucks, here I come.

  She needed about ten Venti Red Eyes to make it through the files for tomorrow, most of them her least favorite—child protective services cases. Being a public defender wasn’t glamorous—not even remotely—but she was still idealistic enough to believe she served the greater good.

  She turned on her signal to pull into the Starbucks parking lot, only to have a cop cut her off as he pulled into the lot in front of her. What an ass. Seemed like most cops she dealt with had serious ego and control issues.

  She followed him into the lot and managed to whip into the last parking place before he got it.

  Ha.

  The squad car zipped past and double-parked beside the row of vehicles. Must be nice to be a cop.

  She grabbed her purse and headed into Starbucks, stealing a surreptitious glance at the policeman over her shoulder. Make that men. Two of them, and actually not unappealing specimens of Tucson’s finest. Not that she was into that kind of guy.

  She stood in line behind a trio of University of Arizona sorority girls in their matching T-shirts and short shorts. Damn, some of the girls wore them so short, their butt cheeks showed below the fabric. The police officers entered behind her.

  Okay, they were beyond appealing. They were hot. Even for someone who didn’t have the “man in a uniform” fetish. These guys could actually tempt her to into a game of Good cop, bad cop. Or would it be Hot cop, hotter cop? Seasoned cop, youthful cop? The taller one was older—maybe mid-forties—with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a neatly trimmed beard, also peppered with silver, and his uniform clung to broad shoulders. The other cop might be in his late twenties or early thirties, like her. His broad, muscular chest stood out in fine definition, and the corded muscles of his arms showed beneath his short sleeves. He had brown hair and green eyes and also sported facial hair—a goatee distinguishing his youthful face. The TPD allowed facial hair? They probably had a “neat and trimmed” policy, at the very least.

  His eyes sparkled when he caught her ogling. “Sorry for cutting you off back there.”

  Unable to hold a grudge—he was too damn cute—she smiled back. “Sorry for taking the last parking place, but I figured it would be better for you to double-park than for me.”

  Youthful Cop’s eyes traveled down the length of her body, taking in the fitted skirt, bare legs, and high heels. The corners of his lips curled in appreciation. Seasoned Cop smirked at both of them.

  Damn, Starbucks needed to turn up the air conditioning. It was getting hot in there.

  The sorority girls moved on, and she stepped forward, blood singing. She ordered an iced Red Eye and then told the cashier the policemen’s drinks were on her. The young barista beamed.

  She walked to the next station to pick up her drink. As she tapped a straw out of its wrapper, she heard the barista telling Hot Cops what she’d done. “It’s in appreciation of your service,” the barista said.

  The sorority girls watched with curiosity, and the two women standing behind the policemen smiled, also listening.

  “No, it’s not, it’s because you’re so good-looking,” she called over to them as she sailed to the counter with the half and half.

  The coffee shop broke into twitters. Seasoned Cop threw back his head and laughed while Youthful Cop’s watchful eyes crinkled.

  Sloane winked at them and put the top back on her creamy iced coffee, swirling the cubes. The sound alone brought on a Pavlovian response of joy from her weary body.

  She strutted out the side door, finding no reason to blow a great exit line. As she rounded the corner toward her car, Youthful Cop sauntered out the door, his neck craning sideways.

  She smiled to herself and sashayed toward her car, the click of her heels on the pavement punctuating each step. The momentary thrill passed as she wondered whether he planned to ask her on a date. She hoped not. She didn’t date—especially not cops.

  Three failed relationships in her twenties had soured her on men in general. She’d been the type who went all-in, so when they ended, her life had been torn apart. Controlling, one ex hand called her. Needy, another had said. Okay, she wanted a lot from her man. So what?

  So, yeah. She’d learned to live without a man. Problem solved. Life was easier now. Much easier. Love wasn’t worth the heartbreak. Besides, she had a busy enough life with her career.

  She opened her car door and slid into the seat, but Youthful Cop caught the door before she could swing it shut.

  Oh boy.

  He draped an arm over it and leaned in, standing between her and the door. She’d never understood the meaning of “twinkling” eyes before, but this guy’s eyes definitely twinkled as he smiled down. “Thanks again for the coffee.” His deep, sexy voice sent frissons of heat rippling through her body.

  Seasoned Cop arrived behind him, holding two large cups of iced java. He handed one to his partner and perched his hip against the body of her car, filling the remaining space between her door and the car.

  The words “Cop Sandwich” flitted into her mind, and she pushed them firmly away when they inspired an entirely different, far more explicit picture in her brain.

  Damn. She must be ovulating. She didn’t usually get this turned on by random guys she met at Starbucks.

  She b
linked up at them. Both smirked in a confident, hot-man kind of way. Jesus, they were cute. Almost blindingly so. “Okay, guys, I have to go—”

  “I’m not sure those legs are legal, Johnboy, what do you think?” Seasoned Cop drawled, his eyes traveling the length of her bare legs.

  Heat bloomed in her core.

  Youthful Cop—Johnboy—took on a mock-serious expression and made a tsking noise. “I’m not sure they are.”

  She needed to shut them down. Because, really, this wasn’t going to go anywhere. “Very funny boys. Okay, I need to get going.”

  “Uh oh, I think we’re getting the brush-off now.” Seasoned Cop’s eyes slid sideways to his partner.

  “Damn, and I thought she might enjoy a frisking.” Youthful Cop flashed a wolfish smile.

  Her breasts ached, nipples hardened into tight beads at the thought of the two men running their hands all over her body. How long had it been since she’d had sex? Two years? Three? Way too long.

  No—just no. This was stupid. She didn’t have time to even sit here and flirt right now, and the flirting wouldn’t be going anywhere. She stiffened her spine. “That’s never going to happen, fellas.” She made a shooing motion to get them out of her door.

  When they didn’t move, she upped the deep freeze. “Buying you coffee wasn’t an offer for sex.” Her tongue faltered on the word sex, as images flashed through her brain of all the possibilities available to three bodies, namely, the two of theirs and hers. She flushed.

  End the conversation, Sloane.

  “Sweetheart, women beg us for sex, not the other way around.” John beamed at her as if she might start begging any minute. When she didn’t, he accepted defeat and took a step back. “Well, you might consider it sometime. It could help with that monster icecap you have going there.”

  His partner’s lips twisted into a rueful smile, and he hooked a large hand through Youthful Cop’s arm and tugged him back, obviously realizing his partner had crossed a line and offended her.

  “Right, like I’d need to resort to screwing Super Troopers,” she spluttered. They didn’t need to know she mentioned one of her favorite movies.

  Great, Sloane. Was that the best you could do?

  The guys had stepped back, out of the way of her door.

  “Who wants a mustache ride?” John called out one of her favorite quotes from the movie as Seasoned Cop swung the door shut.

  Seasoned Cop chuckled as he continued to tug his partner away from her car.

  Seriously? Monster ice cap?

  As if.

  The whole drive home she thought of sassier comebacks she could’ve given to the two men, and not because her panties were still damp from thoughts of how the two of them might fuck her monster ice cap off.

  Two men at once? Two cops?

  Insane. She needed to get that thought out of her brain as quickly as possible.

  #

  Officer John Hathaway jotted down the hot blonde’s license plate number before he met his partner’s raised eyebrows.

  “You going to check her record?” Keith asked with a snort.

  “Maybe.” He grinned and pocketed his notebook. As he drew a long sip of the coffee, he willed his thickened cock to relax. “Seriously, what happened back there? I know I came on too strong, but there was just something about her.”

  “Yeah. There was.” Keith sounded as interested as he felt.

  “For a half-second, I thought she might give us her number. She definitely thought about it.”

  “Aw, don’t worry about it. I think you nailed it—she’s a little uptight. We tempted her and then she got scared of her own desires and lashed out. Don’t take it personally.”

  “Okay, Dr. Phil. Or is it Dr. Drew?”

  “Yeah, just bring all your sex-related problems to me. Clearly, I have it all figured out.” A shade of bitterness bled through in his voice. Apart from two threesomes they’d had with women who had a multiple cop fetish, Keith hadn’t had sex in the four years since his wife died.

  They headed to the squad car but before he had a chance to punch in her license plate, dispatch called. “A silent alarm has been tripped at the Circle J on Park Ave. All vehicles in the area please respond.”

  He flicked on the lights and siren and pulled out as Keith grabbed the handset. “Hathaway and Swenson responding. Estimated arrival, three minutes.”

  The tires screeched a little as he rounded the bend out of the parking lot. Swenson tensed beside him, readying for the scene. They were good partners—had been from day one. Somehow, they just synchronized immediately, “getting” each other, almost like brothers, despite the fifteen-year age difference.

  He turned the siren off as they grew closer, to avoid tipping off the perps. When he whipped into the Circle J parking lot, both officers jumped out of their vehicle.

  A tall, skinny figure emerged, yanking a mask off his head and stuffing it in the paper bag he carried.

  John drew his gun and aimed it, creeping forward. “Freeze, hands in the air!”

  Keith also drew his weapon and yelled at a young woman just getting out of her car, “Get back in the vehicle. Stay down on the floor!”

  The perp took off running, clutching the bag under his arm. John cursed and took off after him, Keith right behind, shouting into the radio. “In pursuit on foot, following perp southbound, behind the building. Backup requested.”

  “I said, freeze, asshole,” John yelled. The young perp’s eyes were wild, which probably meant he was scared enough to be dangerous. Operating under the assumption he was armed, he would have skirted behind the cars for protection, but they all had occupants, and he wasn’t willing to draw fire toward innocent bystanders.

  Thankfully, two more squad cars pulled in, and one of them whipped around behind the building to cut the perp off from behind. The second closed in behind him and Keith. In seconds, Officers Franks and Sherman were out of their car, weapons drawn.

  “Freeze, right where you are! Hands in the air!”

  The perp drew up short, glanced over his shoulder at John and Keith bearing down on him, and pulled up to a defeated stop. He thrust his palms in the air.

  “On the ground, face down,” Keith yelled as the four officers circled the perp, each of them keeping their weapons trained on him.

  The other two officers jumped out of the car behind them and worked on clearing the area of bystanders.

  He darted forward and cuffed the perp then patted him down for weapons, removing the gun from his jacket pocket.

  Keith came up beside him. “You went cowboy again.” His way of saying John had been too reckless, but he heard the affection in his voice. He wasn’t pissed—this time.

  Chapter Two

  By the time Keith finished booking the offender and interviewing witnesses, he and John had missed all possibility of going home to change into civilian clothes before they had to represent their precinct at some judge’s retirement party. Not that he minded— much—his uniform was better than a suit any day. Still, he would have preferred to shower and freshen up first.

  The pair had lost the department-wide rock, paper, scissors game or else he’d be at home with his feet up. Instead, they strolled the swanky outdoor patio of Starr Pass Resort, amidst the politicians and lawyers circling the area like sharks.

  “Too many alpha males,” Keith’s wife Becky used to mutter when she had to attend these things with him. “Too many Type A personalities. It makes me want to run for the door.”

  The pang didn’t hurt as much anymore when he thought of her. That bugged him. He’d never thought he’d forget her and move on. It had been only four years since she’d lost the fight to breast cancer.

  John constantly tried to get him to date again. So far, it hadn’t worked. He’d never even picked up a woman on his own, although twice they’d been picked up by women wanting to fulfill their ménage a trois fantasies. He thought it’d be weird the first time—he’d have to see his partner naked, and all that, but t
hey made a good team. They were tight. Real tight—like brothers.

  “Starbucks Ice Queen, two o’clock,” John murmured.

  Keith’s head jerked up, and his gaze shot across the patio. God in Heaven.

  There she stood, her body-hugging black cocktail dress accenting her perfect hourglass figure. The fabric of her dress swooped around her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, the slender line of her throat set off by a simple but elegant up-do with a few wisps of blonde hair framing her face.

  Whoa. She looked amazing. Like, needle screeching-across-the-record, show stoppingly gorgeous. Her figure, which had been sexy enough in her professional dress earlier in the day, now looked Hollywood-worthy.

  “I’m going to get her this time,” John said, filled with determination. “You in?”

  He grinned. “It’s on.”

  They headed straight for her, wolves hunting their prey. She stood talking to a couple of stuffed shirts, but her gaze slid over to them and she did a double take. He was half-afraid she’d ignore them completely, or, worse, make a beeline in the opposite direction, but, to his surprise, she broke away from her cronies and headed toward them. They met her near a concrete pillar and she skirted the side of it so it hid them from view.

  “I didn’t know they invited the Super Troopers.” She folded her arms across her perky breasts.

  “We just booted your car, Ice Princess,” John said. “You really should’ve paid those parking tickets.”

  “What parking tickets?” she spluttered. “What in the hell are you—” Catching the amusement on Keith’s face, she relaxed. “Very funny.”

  He tilted his head. “Well, I’m definitely writing a ticket for that dress. It should be illegal.”

  Her sensuous lips curved into a smile. “Oh, really?” She infused a heavy dose of skepticism into her words.