Synopsis:
When Janos Kovacs calls 911 about an intruder at his home, hot cops Dean and Brock are first on scene. When Janos's story doesn't quite tally, they decide they will have to punish him for wasting police time.
Janos soon realises that there isn't a bad cop, good cop here, only bad cop, worse cop...
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Excerpt:
The report of a
breaking and entering at 1278 Woodbine Drive came in at two am and the nearest
officers to the scene were Dean Carey and Brock Brennan. It had been a quiet
night so far, taking turns to doze in the patrol car parked up in a peaceful
stretch of town.
The house stood
dark and alone at the end of the cul de sac. Dean followed Brock along the side
path through a gate to the yard, stifling a yawn all the way. Nights killed
him. Anything that would keep him awake was a bonus. Watching his partner’s
broad-shouldered physique, the equipment jiggling on his belt and tight pants
stretched across his firm ass was definitely a bonus and guaranteed to keep him
up as well as awake.
Brock was blond,
six feet four and built like a brick shithouse. Gay with no shortage of
admirers and a list of conquests as long as his arm, he liked it rough and
ready and treated his lovers meanly.
While lean with
muscle, Dean wasn’t nearly so burly, a shade over six feet, dark-haired and
more clean-cut. They made a striking pair while out on patrol; the amount of
propositions they garnered was testament to that fact.
Brock stopped,
flashlight trained on the rear door, trying the handle and finding it open. He
glanced at Dean, who nodded, drawing his gun at the same time as his partner.
The two cops
stepped over the threshold. The kitchen beyond was dark, the small, neat space
lit up by the bright flashlight beam as Brock swung it around. They stood
listening a moment to the dead silence before Brock led the way down the hall,
peering in through a doorway, gun levelled. He backed out, shook his head,
craned his neck to look up the stairs.
Dean had noticed
an alarm box on the wall. Wondered why it wasn’t going off if there had been a
disturbance. He gestured to his partner to go up. Brock ascended the stairs on
noiseless feet, gun held out, Dean following. The total silence suggested
either any burglar had long gone or he’d injured the occupant to incapacity.
Three doors opened out from the landing, one of them closed. Brock and Dean
looked into a bathroom and a guest room, finding them clear before they
approached the closed door, standing on either side.
Brock spoke up.
“Hello? Is there anybody in there?”
The two waited.
Dean had no particular instinct that anything bad had happened here and his
partner’s fairly relaxed body language suggested he thought the same.
It was a few
seconds before a quavering male voice answered them. “Yes.”
“Sir,” Dean
said. “It’s the police. Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then come out
please.”
A shuffling noise
sounded before the door was slowly cranked open. A slender man barely five feet
six in stature stood in the entrance, blinking owlishly as Brock shone the
flashlight in his face. He was in his late twenties, pale and dark haired,
wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms.
“Sir?” Brock
said. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
“I… I was too
afraid to come out,” the man said timidly, staring up at the two cops who
towered over him, his blue eyes wide with fear.
Dean’s gaze
drifted down his lean torso, noticed the PJ pants rode low on his hips, barely
covering his pubic hair. He swallowed, stepped back, let Brock carry the
conversation.
“What happened?”
“I heard
somebody downstairs.” The man crossed his arms over his bare chest and shivered
even though the night was balmy. “I was afraid.”
“There’s nobody
here now,” Brock said patiently, voice soothing. “Why don’t you put some
clothes on and come down. We’ll have a chat.”
The man glanced
at Dean unsurely before nodding. He closed the door in their faces.
Brock looked at
Dean. He shook his head and smiled wryly. Dean followed him downstairs, hoping
to at least get a cup of coffee out of this visit for their trouble.
He flicked the
light on and the two of them stood in the kitchen, one leaning against the
sink, the other against the work surface, both waiting for the house owner to
show. The man appeared within a couple of minutes. His concession to getting
dressed had apparently been to pull a robe on over his pants, a flimsy thing
that ended at his knees and gaped over his chest.
Dean folded his
arms and gestured to the table in the middle of the room. “Why don’t you take a
seat, sir?”
The man regarded
them both warily and pulled out a chair to sit. He looked at them from eyes
that were even more startlingly blue under the bright kitchen lights. With a
good look, he was more handsome than Dean had initially thought too, his rather
delicate features complimenting his compact little body, his dark hair cut
short and neat.
“What’s your
name?” Brock asked. “Dispatch says you hung up before telling them.”
“Janos Kovacs,”
the man said. He looked at Dean, ran his tongue nervously over his lips in a
gesture which made the cop shiver. A sudden arousal started to fizz down his
spine and his cock began to fill. Something about this man was deeply
attractive and excited him no end.
“Are you
Hungarian?” Brock asked.
“My parents
are.” Again Janos looked at Dean, anxiety radiating off him in waves.
“All right, so
why don’t you tell us what happened this morning?”
Janos licked his
lips again. “I was asleep. I heard a noise downstairs and voices. It might have
been two men. I phoned 911 and I hid upstairs.”
“Then what?”
Brock asked.
“Then you
arrived,” Janos said.
Brock looked at
Dean. He raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Mr. Kovacs, why wasn’t your alarm going
off if someone had broken in?”
“It wasn’t set,”
Janos said nervously. “My cat walks about during the night.”
Brock’s voice
remained patient and steady. He had all the time in the world for time-wasters,
while Dean usually wanted to slap a citation on them. “That’s not a reason not
to set your alarm. Plenty of other people find a way around that.”
Janos nodded
quickly. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“And your back
door was open.”
“I guess they
must have picked the lock?” Janos said, a feeble question. He twisted his hands
together on the table, glancing at Dean again.
Brock walked to
the door and opened it. He examined the Yale lock and then the inside of the
door. “There’re no signs of forced entry. And there’re two bolts here, top and
bottom. You can’t have put these on before you went to bed.”
“I must have
forgotten,” Janos said meekly.
Dean blew out
his breath in a loud sigh. “All right, enough. You didn’t set your alarm and
you didn’t lock your door and then someone breaks in. What did you expect?”
Janos shook his
head, wide eyes fixed on Dean. “I’m sorry.” Something about the directness of
his gaze, his meek submission made Dean’s cock even harder. He put a hand in
his pocket, tried to adjust it discreetly and the house owner’s gaze
immediately darted down to his groin. Janos’s mouth opened a little, his eyes
widened and he sat back in his chair, shooting a glance at Brock.
Dean pushed off
the work surface and went to stand at the sink next to Brock. “I’m not sure
sorry cuts it, Mr. Kovacs,” he said sternly. “You wasted police time. In fact,
I’m beginning to question if there ever was an intruder.”
“There was!”
Janos exclaimed. He addressed Brock, perhaps starting to realise who was the
good cop in the duo. “You believe me, don’t you?”
Brock regarded
him placidly. “I don’t know, Mr. Kovacs. My partner’s instincts are usually
right. If he thinks you made this up, then maybe you did.”
“No!”
Brock looked at
Dean. Something passed between them, some green light and Dean had to swallow a
smirk, almost telepathic when it came to Brock’s desires.
“Officer Carey
is right when he says you wasted police time,” Brock said, his voice a little
cooler than it had been. “I’m going to bow to him here and let him deliver what
punishment he feels is necessary.”
Janos paled. His
eyes swung rapidly between the two cops. “Punishment? You’re not going to
arrest me are you?”
Dean regarded
him as though debating what to do. “Tell me why we shouldn’t?”
“B-because…
because I’m a law-abiding citizen. I’ve never done anything wrong! I didn’t
mean to waste your time. Please believe me!”
“Hmm,” Brock
said. “I guess we could let him off this time.”
Janos looked
like he was holding his breath, his hands clasped together in front of him as
though in prayer.
“I don’t think
so,” Dean said with an inward smile.
Janos leapt to
his feet. “Oh please! I’m sorry!”
Dean regarded
him scornfully. “So you keep saying. Why don’t you show us how sorry you are?”
Janos bit his
lip, eyes filled with confusion. “How?”
Dean spread his
feet, pelvis tilted forward, cock straining his tight pants to bursting so
Janos’s gaze was again drawn down between his legs. “Come here,” he commanded.
Janos stumbled
forward so he stood small and defensive in front of the two cops.
Dean took his
hat off. Laid it on the sink. “On your knees.”
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Wow! Hope i win!!!! Name: Trecia Mae Vicher
ReplyDeleteforgot my email, just in case i win though very unlikely. heatwave_9284@yahoo.com.ph
Deletepdf format would be best for me.
Awesome excerpt! Happy Birthday :-)
ReplyDeleteYvette
yratpatrol@aol.com
Are you kidding me? COUNT ME IN!
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sylvan65 at hotmail dot com
prefer mobi prc (if relevant)
Ps:
ReplyDeleteHappy birthday to you!
Happy birthday. Hope you have a lovely day!
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ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday to you, and many more. May all your wishes come true..*S*
ReplyDeleteWow, definitely have to read the rest of the story..*S*
Thank you for the contest!
Darcy
pommawolf @hotmail.com
brilliant please pick me sally
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Congratulations Sally, you've won the copy as picked by my cat and it's on its way to you! :-)
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