Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
She snickered. “You’ll never believe me.”
I looked over at her and said, “Why do you say that?”
Turner hit a few buttons on the computer, and suddenly the entire thing was starting over from the beginning.
It starts with the male cop sitting in his cruiser sipping on a cup of coffee. Seconds later, the radio beside him squawks, and the man’s looking over at the radio with a look of annoyance on his face as if he’d had his break interrupted.
“There’s a domestic disturbance again, Officer Big,” the woman’s monotone voice drawls over the ‘airwaves.’
I looked over at Turner
“Officer Big?” I lifted a brow.
Turner snickered and gestured to the screen with her chin, causing me to turn back and continue watching.
The screen then goes black and seconds later reappears again, this time with Officer Big stepping out of his police cruiser and rounding the hood, heading to the building of a…funeral home?
What the fuck?
“That’s not really a funeral home,” I deadpanned.
She snickered. “It gets better.”
I couldn’t see how.
But, watching him walk into the funeral parlor and walk into a shit storm, I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.
“…I can’t believe you had the balls to come here! This is where I work. I do hair, you prick. I’m not a goddamn hooker or anything. You need to leave.” There was a woman—the same woman who’d gotten her tits fucked later in the movie—with her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she was glaring at the man or ‘prick.’
“I’m not leaving. I don’t have to leave,” the prick disagreed.
“Yes, you are,” the police officer answered. “Right now.”
The prick whipped around, dramatically and in full flourish, face turning from hard to a look of feigned surprise.
The woman on the screen looked pleased to see the officer—in more than one way.
“This is my woman,” the prick on the screen said.
“Sorry,” the officer said. “But you’ll be forced to leave or this could get ugly.”
The man struggled, and suddenly the officer was ‘forced to get ugly.’
There was a farce of an altercation, and the prick accidentally fell into an open casket. That open casket comedically fell shut at just the right time, and the man became locked inside without any work on the cop’s part.
The woman on the screen that was starting to look more and more like Turner the longer I watched the video walked over to it and flipped a latch, making sure the man wouldn’t be able to get out no matter what.
“Oh, Officer,” she cooed. “That was so well done.”
Then the woman offered the officer a kiss in thanks.
That’s when the officer turned his mouth when the woman meant to only kiss his cheek.
And that, folks, was all she wrote.
“If you want,” I teased, raising my hand up to my chest to scratch at an itch just under my pec. “We can recreate this later.”
She grinned at me and leaned over, leaning her body onto the arm of the couch that I was straddling, and subsequently me.
I could smell her lotion that she’d put on this morning, and I couldn’t help but notice just how warm she felt.
When I’d left the house earlier, I also hadn’t put much thought into how fuckin’ cold it was. And since Turner hadn’t been spending much time in the RV, she’d cranked down the heat.
She was covered up with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and I had ideas.
Great ideas.
“Scoot over, baby,” I ordered as I started falling into the couch.
She did, and I allowed myself to fall completely before reaching for her and the blanket.
“Share your warmth with me, woman,” I ordered. “My nipples are hard as fuck right now.”
She immediately unwrapped the blanket from around her shoulders and leaned into me, offering me half the blanket.
I took her and the other half of the blanket, being sure to pull them both close.
“Officer, can I interest you in a haircut in thanks for your time and strong muscles?” the woman cooed.
Turner scoffed. “Yes, let’s offer the man a haircut.” She snickered. “I, of course, saw these parts as I was writing the dialogue, but it still blows my mind that this was even made.”
Turner’s hand absently went to my bare chest underneath the blanket and started stroking.
I had no idea if she was meaning to make me want her, but the way my dick once again started to stiffen in my pants, I couldn’t help myself from pulling her closer and letting my own hand drift over her hip.
“Sure, I’d love a haircut,” the officer replied. “I’m in need of one, anyway. I was actually about to do that just before I came.”
Of course, how convenient it all was.
The woman patted his hand and said, “That’s great. Let me go get my clippers.”
The next couple of minutes pass on the screen as Turner slowly began to drop lower and lower with her rubbing, stopping just a few scant centimeters from actually touching the waistband of my dress pants. The waistband that was hanging out low around my hips due to me shedding the belt and the gun inside my door.