Corey

“Fort Montevallo S.W.A.T.”

Book 2
Tarin Lex
 All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2020 by Tarin Lex.
No part of this work may be transmitted or reproduced without
written permission from the author/publisher.
Published by Tarin Lex.
“Corey” is a work of fiction. Names, situations, locations, and events
are fictitious.
Cover by DesignRans.
 Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Epilogue
 One

Aris

“No. Way,” Corey says through gritted teeth. “I’m not leaving two
seventeen-year-old girls alone in the mall.”
“Okay first of all, Aris is eighteen,” my bestie, Megan, points out.
Standing with her and her brother in the food court, I’m not sure
which is more rousing—the smell of fresh-baked cinnamon swirls
wafting toward us, or the look of fierce protectiveness on her
brother’s face.
Corey’s jet eyes slide to me, narrowing. “Since when?”
“Today,” I answer.
“No one told me,” he says. “Happy Birthday, Smiles.” His lowered
voice is rumbly and warm and makes my legs feel weak.
“Thanks.” I bite back a too-big grin.
Clearing his throat, he looks at Megan, muscular arms folded
over his chest, looking big and immutable as Wylder Peak.
And that’s a mountain.
“Second of all,” Megan snarks, “you’re being ridic. This mall is
safe, we’re smart. Nothing bad is gonna happen to us just because
my big-shot SWAT brother isn’t trailing us like a puppy dog.”
Corey wrinkles up his face. “A puppy dog?”
“You know what I mean,” Megan sniffs. I stifle a giggle behind my
hand. Corey’s dark, intense eyes flicker to me then away. It’s enough
to paint my cheeks pink.
Geez. Now I’m the one who’s being ridic. He looked at me…so?
It’s bad enough I’ve been harboring this insane crush on my best
friend’s older brother for three years. One split-second moment of
direct eye contact should not send a flush of heat all over my skin.
“Alright, fine.” Meg whirls to me, lowering her voice. Not so low
he can’t still hear. “What do you think, Aris, should I go with a
plunging neckline”—she draws a V down her chest with her
fingertips—“or a thigh-high slit”—she winks, pretending to hike a
dress up her leg—“hmm, maybe both…”
Tense silence follows. I peer over at Corey, who’s frowning at the
both of us.
“I’ll make myself scarce,” he grumbles. Smart man. I have to
school my eyes from training too hard on his backside, his broad,
hard shoulders and those dark jeans that do very, very nice things
for his butt, as Corey turns and stalks away.
I settle for the cinnamon swirls, since I can’t have him.
“The plunging neckline,” I answer Megan, once her brother is out
of earshot. “Definitely.”
“That’s what I was thinking too.” Grinning victoriously, she twines
her arm with mine as we head for the treats. “Let’s find you a leggy
one then.”
“Um, no thanks.”
“Ah.” She smiles knowingly. “Going for the plunge then?”
“Yeah, that’s going to happen.”
“Oh…honey,” Megan sighs, her way of gently admonishing me
for feeling insecure.
I shake my head. “Don’t start.”
She agrees to behave. We load up on the sugary carbs, maybe
not the wisest choice right before we’re about to try on prom
dresses, but it’s instant gratification, and I already know how I’m
going to feel after this whole shopping thing is over. Like crap. I’ll
make better choices another day.
Today, I just want to get this over with and come out alive.
I haven’t been looking forward to trying on gowns, but I am
excited to go to prom. After Megan’s on-again/off-again relationship
ended in a blowout fight, she’s sworn off guys. I’m her perpetually
single BFF who’s never even been kissed. So we agreed to be each
other’s prom dates, so we know we’ll have fun and won’t be let
down.
“How much time do we have?” I ask.
Meg shrugs, licking the gooey sides of her cinnamon bun into
submission. “How long is a piece of string?”
I giggle at that non-answer. We both know we won’t last long
here.
We’re lucky Corey was available to drive us today. With prom two
weeks away, time is ticking and the best dresses are probably gone.
Meg doesn’t have a car yet, and mine’s in the shop for a couple
more days. I don’t really care about having flashy, expensive things,
but I do love to drive. Someday it’d be nice to own a car that doesn’t
break down every couple of months.
“Corey won’t get called out?” I check, as we head into the dress
shop.
“That’s always a risk.” She spots a gaudy red frock and beelines
over to it. “Oohh.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief.
“No,” I snort. She pouts. “Divide and conquer?”
“Okay. Let me know if you see anything that looks like—me.”
She agrees to do the same for me, something pretty but not too
attention-grabbing; flattering without…flaunting. There’s no hiding my
curves. Believe me, I’ve tried.
Megan is easier. Tall and thin, clothing is literally made for her.
I’m glad we’re going to prom together, but I do feel bad for her that
she won’t be going with Dustin. She only ever imagined going with
him. Then a month ago, he broke her heart. Again.
I hate shopping. As I scan the racks I try not to let my thoughts
spin back to Corey. It’s futile. Not just because I like him so much,
but also because I do have to wonder how we’ll get home if he gets
called out. Like Megan said, there’s always a risk. I know too, from
experience.
Corey’s job on the Fort Montevallo S.W.A.T. team—working
alongside my stepdad, Shane—can be demanding and stressful. He
never seems stressed though. Corey has a calm, steady presence
that’s also very acutely aware. It would be silly of me to wonder if
he’s figured out about my crush. Of course he has. Probably since it
first sprang to life. The guy seems to know everything.
So his earlier concern makes me feel a bit wary. Maybe we
should’ve let him tag along…for safety reasons.
I find one halfway decent dress and head for the dressing room.
Megan comes in hauling a load of them. We have the exact opposite
problem. She’ll choose her favorite of a dozen dresses that look
amazing on her. I’ll pick the one that looks the least bad on me.
“Stop that,” she chides, apparently hearing my thoughts. “Stop
that right now.”
I roll my eyes. “Anything for me in there?”
“Yes. Two, actually!” She passes them to me and we head into
our separate stalls.
“Meg?” I ask.
 “Yeah, honey?”
“We’re totally safe in here, right?”
I hear her puff out a breath of air. “Yes. Stop worrying. In fact”—
she clamors around, getting situated with her bounty—“consider this
an official no-anxiety zone.”
I nod, looking in the mirror. I take a big breath and try on the first
dress. It looks like a rainbow threw up on me.
“Besides,” says Megan, “I have my mace with me.”
“Oh my god”—laughing, I step out of the hideous gown
—“remember when you first got it and we wanted to see how bad it
really was, so we totally maced ourselves?”
“We’re idiots,” Megan chortles. “How are those self-defense
lessons going with Shane, by the way?”
“Frustrating. He’s so much nicer to his regular students.”
“It’s a father-daughter thing,” says Megan. “My dad was a
nutcase teaching me to drive.”
Outwardly, I chuckle. Inside, her words are kind of…
heartwarming. It’s been almost seven years since Shane met my
mom. We are like father and daughter. Even though I still normally
call him Shane. He’s father to my five baby brothers and sisters, the
closest thing to a dad I’ve ever known. And he’s a dang good one.
“Well, I wish it was easier. I’d feel better if I at least knew a few
moves.” I’ve always had a little anxiety, but ever since my mom and I
were mugged a year ago while Shane was on duty, it’s gotten worse.
I’m afraid of everything, strangers, Corey, calories, tulle…
I change into dress number two.
“Why don’t you just ask my brother?”
 “Ask me what?” My body hums in response to Corey’s warm
masculine voice on the other side of the dressing room door.
I still, studying my reflection in the mirror. The second dress
Megan chose not only fits, it actually looks…good.
Meg opens her stall door. “Aris wants to learn self-defense.”
“Nice dress,” Corey compliments.
“I think it’s the one. Aris? You make up your mind?”
“Yes. I think so.”
My bestie squeals. “I bet it’s one I chose. The red one right? Eep!
Let’s see it!”
I step out, staring first at the floor. Megan gasps. I lift my gaze to
Corey’s face, his dark eyes wide. “Wow,” he exhales. “You look
amazing.”
“Thank you.”
I watch as Corey dryly swallows. “I’ll wait out here while you guys
change. Smiles,” he adds, “we’ll talk about those self-defense
lessons.”
My nerves are buzzing with excitement as I get back into my
regular clothes and carry the dress to the checkout counter, where
Corey and Megan are waiting. The salesclerk rings me up while I dig
around for my debit card.
“Oh, shoot.”
“What is it, honey?” Megan says.
“I left my debit card in my other purse.” I shake my head, my
earlier excitement now deflated. Figures this would happen. Only
because it’s the perfect dress to wear to prom.
“I can spot you—”
 “No you can’t,” Corey cuts in. She throws him a look. “You’re
already over the budget Mom and Dad set.” He fishes out his wallet
and pulls out a credit card, handing it over to the salesclerk.
“You don’t have to, Corey.”
“Your dad would kill me if I let you leave here with nothing to
wear to prom,” he counters. My heart clenches. My dad. His sister.
What the hell is the matter with me, crushing on him? This guy is
double off-limits.
Heat crawls up my neck. He’s already done so much, driven us
here, offered to teach me self-defense. Even if I wasn’t harboring a
planet-sized crush on my best friend’s brother, I don’t like the thought
of being more in his debt.
But what choice do I have right now?
“Thanks. I promise I’ll pay you back.”
“No.” The corner of his mouth kicks up in a smirk. Dangerous,
that smirk. Even worse is the way Corey then dips his head to my
ear to whisper, “Happy Birthday.”
 Two

Corey

“Like this.” I demonstrate the combination once again.

“Remember to relax, and keep your dukes up.”
“You’re saying I need to chill out, and be guarded at the same
time?” Aris quips lightheartedly. She gets into the position. “Gotcha.”
“That’s almost exactly what I’m saying.” I chuckle. I lay my hands
over her fists, ignoring the heated pulse that makes a clear path to
my chest every time we touch. Holding her fists, I move her arms
around until her muscles go limp and her arms become pliant as Jell-
O.
In that space is where I have her total focus. And she has mine. I
look into those crystal blue eyes for a heartbeat longer than
necessary.
“Anxiety robs your awareness,” I coach. “Tension in your body
will make you react out of fear. Here”—I press a hand to my lower
stomach—“instead of here”—I point to my temple with two fingers.
“Nothing can compete with?”
“Water,” she answers, her voice soft, lyrical. “Lao Tzu.”
“Good girl.” I stand back and watch her perform the combination.
“Again.”
Aris is in beautiful shape, flexible, and surprisingly strong. She
attacks the air with dedication. I grin, proud of her.
But she won’t be fighting off air. If anyone ever comes into her
personal space, grabs her by the wrist, or her hair, or the back of her
neck, she’ll need to be able to get away. The mere thought makes
me grit my jaw and tighten my fists at my sides. God help the person
who ever tries to harm this girl.
It’s up to me to make sure Aris can defend herself. “Again,” I
grunt.
She executes it with power and precision. Her auburn hair comes
loose from its bun. Aris wheels to me, breathless. She makes a face
like she’s not quite sure, her shimmering eyes searching mine for
approval.
It’s the same look she wore on her face ten days ago, when she
stepped out of her dressing room in that infernal fucking red dress.
That particular mental image of her is permanently branded against
my skull. I kicked myself all the way home for buying it for her. For
someone to see, and that someone ain’t me.
I step toward her as she catches her breath. Reaching behind
her neck, I gather up all of her long, lush hair and tie it back into a
bun. Aris’s eyes never leave mine.
Setting my hands on top of her shoulders, I say, “That was a lot
better, Smiles.” It shouldn’t bring me so much pleasure to witness
red creep up her neck and cheeks.
“Thank you,” she breathes.
“Now. Lie on your back.”
Aris complies without hesitation. I lower down to cage her legs
between my knees, and press my fingers against her throat. Her
ocean-blue eyes saucer.
“You want to know how to get out of this?”
Aris swallows against my fingertips. She says, in a sultry, brazen
voice, “Not really.”
 Fuck. The way her stare roves down my neck and chest, and
lower, leaves a stirring feeling in my pants I have to try very hard to
temper.
It’s futile. My cock awakens, becoming hard as a rock against her
thighs.
“Bad girl,” I husk out. I have to stop these obsessive thoughts of
her. These possessive thoughts. I’m twenty-five. A bit too old to lust
over a high school girl. Yes, she was a knockout in that dress,
revealing herself to me in a whole new light. She wasn’t trying it on
for me though, she was trying it on for her senior prom.
Thank Christ she’s only going with my sister.
I war with the instinct to claim her lips, and instead show Aris
how to defend against a mount like this, to seize my wrist in a closed
guard, then secure my arms and at the same time lock her legs
around my neck, then press down with her hips, hard, to torque her
attacker’s elbow joint.
Aris does it terrifically, making me growl out mercy.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Corey!”
“Don’t be.” Standing up, I shake out my arms and give her a
hand to help her up. “That was perfect.” Facing me, her hair mussed,
her eyes wet with desire that matches my own, I’m thankful I chose
to do these lessons here. She ain’t wearing that damn dress now,
but I can’t unsee what I saw. A gorgeous girl.
A goddess.
That’s why the best place to train Aris is here in the gym at HQ.
There’s always a lot going on at her house, with her five siblings and
their dog. My apartment would be ideal, there’s plenty of space and
quiet there, but we’ve never been completely alone before. It would
seem too intimate.
At HQ, where my SWAT teammates and the other Fort
Montevallo MPs are always milling about, there’s at least some room
to practice and get into the mindset. It’s not the most distraction-free
place, but it’s free of inherent…risk.
She’s a natural, and she don’t even know it. She will. Aris blows
out a puff of air, blowing her hair out of her face.
“Let’s take five.” I hand her a bottle of water. “You earned it.”
“Oh thank goodness, water.”
We sit side by side on a metal bench. Aris lets her hair down,
draping it across her shoulder as she steadies her breaths. My
fingers itch to run through those silken, reddish locks a second time.
I tame my thoughts. We’ve had a few of these sessions already, and
it’s brought our guard down as we’ve gotten to know each other.
Maybe too much.
She’s unwittingly endeared me to her. But through subtle clues,
I’ve also learned she needs me for way more than my dick.
“Talk to me, Smiles. What is it that’s got you all wound up?”
She looks at me, vulnerable, and reticent, at the same time. “You
know how Mom and I were mugged last year?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know she went all mama-bear and kicked total butt? If it
weren’t for her…”
I chuckle deeply. “That’s also what I heard. I wasn’t sure how
much Shane embellished that little detail.”
“I don’t know, but he didn’t have to. She was amazing. And I…”
she blinks. “I wanted to be amazing, too. If I ever needed to be.”
 “You are amazing, in lots of ways.”
“Pfft.”
“I mean it. Look how far you’ve come in just a few sessions. You
catch on quick. Plus you’re smart, and sweet. And…” I should be
alarmed by the pull between us. But when I look at her, I can clearly
see one thing—mine. I lower my voice. “…beautiful.”
She smiles meekly. That gorgeous grin is one of the things I like
most about her. “Is that part of the lesson?” she jokes.
“Yeah, it is. Confidence is one of the most critical elements.
Didn’t your stepdad teach you that?”
“You know how he is,” Aris says, shrugging. “Such a perfectionist
when it comes to form, technique. He makes me nervous with his
OCD.”
I huff a laugh. “Welcome to my world.”
Stillness and quiet fall on us then. Serenity, and at the same time
the otherwise-vacant room becomes…charged.
Aris glances up at me, then away. When she looks again I catch
her, holding her gaze. I watch her eyes fall to my lips. There’s
nothing I want more than to give her what she wants. To kiss her,
and claim her, and lasso the goddamn moon, if that’s what she
wants.
This little girl is doing quite a number on me.
It’s all wrong. I’ve known Aris for years. I’ve always thought of her
as my kid sister’s sweet, cute friend. But there’s nothing kiddie about
Aris anymore, and she’s more than cute. She’s sexy as sin.
I school my lustful thoughts, again. I can’t think of her that way.
Aris is eighteen—barely. She’s my little sister’s best friend, and my
teammate’s daughter. If one of the guys ever looked at my sister the
way I’m looking at Aris now, I’d have their balls on a spear.
I want to help her with this, and everything else. But she’s as off-
limits as it gets, and if I can’t get ahold of myself, I’ll need to stay
away.
Now there’s a thought I can’t stand to fucking entertain.
“Smiles,” I whisper, but it comes out a quiet groan. “You can’t
look at me like that.”
“Like what?” she purrs. Little flirt.
“Like you want me.” It’s enough to make my sex ache to be
inside her.
Her soft, breathy voice is a sharp contrast to her bold question.
“Do you want me, Corey?” Fuck yeah, I do. I want this girl in the
worst way. Telling her is on the tip of my tongue.
The door to this part of the gym opens behind us, and Shane
walks in, splicing the sexual tension so it becomes…just tension. I
heave a quiet, tortured sigh.
“Hey, punkin,” he says to Aris. “Corey. You guys about done
here?”
“Yep.” I clap Aris on the shoulder as we stand up, avoiding
looking in her eyes. “Great job today.”
 Three

Aris

The thing about prom night is, it’s supposed to be memorable.

For better or worse. In my case, unfortunately, I will always
remember this night for being the worst.
Forget the fact that not one single guy in my school asked me to
be their date in the first place.
Or my wardrobe malfunction, which occurred the second I sat
down next to Megan in the back seat of the limo. Both spaghetti
straps popped off like they were on a mission.
The music was bad.
The food was bad.
I had to dance like a penguin with my arms glued to my sides, or
else give the entire senior class a boob-flash.
And then, it went from awful, to worse, when Megan and Dustin’s
song came on and he stole her away for what was supposed to be
one dance. One. And ended up with her ditching me to spend the
rest of the night with him.
‘Are you sure it’s ok, honey?’
‘Yes, of course!’
What was I supposed to say, no?
Yeah…I should’ve said no.
Usually the good thing about having anxiety is you’re always
ready for the worst-case scenario. But sitting alone at prom, tucking
my hands into my armpits to hold up my dress, it’s worse than worst.
 Is this somehow all my fault? I should’ve known Megan and D
would get back together—it’s what they do.
I didn’t think this dress all the way through. I reacted impulsively
simply because it made Corey’s eyes light up. What if that was just
in my head?
Sigh. For two weeks Corey’s been training me to defend myself
in case anyone ever tries to beat me up. But what do I do when it’s
me beating me up?
Corey. He’s the only one I want to talk to or see right now. I step
outside, wrapping one arm against my boobs and attacking my
phone with my other thumb in search of his number. I find it, call it. I
don’t have an urge to cry until Corey’s voice comes through the
speaker, and suddenly a whole lakeful of tears lodge in my throat.
“Aris, what’s wrong?” His voice is low and husky, like he’s been
sleeping, or… ohmygod, what if he’s on a date right now?
“I’m not b-bothering you right now, a-am I?” I say weakly,
sobbing. What’s worse than worse than worst? This. This is. I can’t
even wipe my bleary eyes because I’m out of hands.
“You could never bother me, Smiles. But aren’t you supposed to
be at prom?” He seems to wake up, if he was in fact sleeping. His
tone becomes harder, sobered. “Where’s Megan?”
I blubber my way through an explanation, getting to about the
halfway point when he stops me.
“Aris, honey, shh. Stay where you’re at. I’ll be right there.”

***
 Corey pulls up and steps out to open the passenger door for me.
He closes it after I’m buckled in, rounds the front of his black crew
cab, and slides back into the driver’s seat. “Let’s get you home.”
His cologne, some mix of citrus and sandalwood, intoxicates me.
Was he wearing that before I called? “What if I don’t want to go
home?” I ask.
“Alright”—he slides me a quick look, then faces forward, shifting
the truck into drive—“we can do something else. Are you hungry? I’ll
take you out to eat.”
I’m hungry, but not for food, I want to say. “No thanks, I ate.”
He issues a thoughtful sound. “Why don’t you want to go home,
Smiles?”
“It’s really late, and my parents…you know, they have so much
going on with the twins, and the triplets, and Buster,” I babble. “I
don’t want to worry them.”
He cracks a smirk that could turn my panties into puddles.
“What’s the real reason?”
I gulp a swallow. “I just want to spend time…with you,” I confess,
so quietly I’m not even sure he heard it. Ah what the hell, not like this
night can get any worse, right? Heat assaults my chest and face with
a vengeance as silence descends between us. I keep my gaze
trained on the floorboards.
Suddenly the warmth of Corey’s hand is enveloping mine. My
fingers tingle. My heart skips into a gallop. I look over to meet his
gaze. He winks.
“Alright then,” Corey says, all husky and warm, “I’ll take you…
home.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling too big. Is this really happening?
 There’s a chance I’m going to hell for this, whatever this comes
to. Even though I’m not the first of Megan’s friends to crush on her
brother—he’s got that universally droolworthy kind of handsomeness
going on, what can you expect?
And she’s never explicitly said that he’s off-limits.
But I’m pretty sure it’s like an unspoken, universal girl-code
thing? Don’t crush too hard on your best friend’s sibling?
She’s always been there for me when I’m feeling down. Tonight
notwithstanding. That was an epic friend-fail on her part. But still…I
can’t betray my best friend. I can’t.
No matter what magic her brother sparks in my soul.
So much magic.
 Four

Aris

Forget everything I said before.

I want this man. Bad.
Like his truck, Corey’s apartment smells like him. His
pheromones. I want to wrap myself up in the scent of him until I’m
dizzy.
He keeps his place clean, for a guy. It’s cozy. Maybe I just think
so because it’s his.
“Tell me what happened,” Corey prompts, handing me a glass of
water.
“I did.” I take the water, still holding my gown up with my other
hand, and sip it.
“Nah-ah.” He shakes his head in rebuke. “C’mon, it was a big
night, I know there’s more. Did you at least dance?”
“Only with your sister.”
He pulls a face. “Even the slow songs?”
“No.” My heart tips inside my barely covered chest. Corey gives
me a waiting look, so I add, “I’m…bigger than the other girls. Let’s
just say I’m no one’s first pick to slow dance with.”
“Pfft,” he scoffs. “Little boys. They don’t appreciate shape, yet,”
he says, wearing a panty-pulverizing smirk. “They will, when they’re
man enough.”
Does that mean he is man enough? It doesn’t really get any
more manly than him. I think he knows it, too. “Well, little boys didn’t
want to slow dance with me, so”—I pause to drain the last sip of
water from the glass—“I didn’t.”
Corey takes my now-empty water glass and sets it down. “You’ve
got to slow dance on your prom night. Isn’t that like, a rule?”
“Whose rule?”
“Ours.” Smiling, he offers me his hand. “Dance with me?”
Am I dreaming? I’m dreaming. Odd. I’ve never been this good at
dreams. My hand feels right at home cocooned in his bigger, rougher
one.
He leads me across the living room to turn on some music.
Heavy metal blasts through the speakers at first. He quickly lowers
the volume and mouths ‘sorry,’ looking sheepish and cute. He puts
on a slower song. I recognize the opening chords of Chris Cornell’s
cover of “Patience.” My eyes drop to the hollow of Corey’s throat as
he pulls me into him.
He holds me close, one hand resting on the small of my back,
the other still clasping one of mine. Our cheeks barely brush. I
breathe him in, holding onto the air in my lungs. I hear Corey deeply
inhale, too.
He pulls me in even closer, and my breasts smoosh against his
hard, muscular chest, so I don’t even have to hold up my dress
anymore. I do anyway.
“What is this?” He nudges my arm playfully with the bend of his
elbow. “You’ve really never done this before, Smiles,” he says,
factually. His husky voice is tinged with humor, and pleasure. “That
hand goes behind my shoulder.”
“I need it here, to keep my dress from falling down.”
 “Mm,” he exhales. Or was that a groan? “Do you really need to?”
His gaze finds mine, and it rends me.
“No. I guess not.” I let go of the dress to lay my hand against the
nape of his neck. The skin right there feels good, ropey, and delicate.
My top doesn’t fall down like I expected, just dips a half-inch lower
than it’s made to.
Corey unleashes a ragged sound, his hooded eyes darkening to
near-black.
“You can’t look at me like that, Corey,” I echo his earlier words.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me.”
He remembers. His voice dips low, languorous, when he says,
“Do you want me, Smiles?”
“You know I do. I have for a long time.”
“A long time?” he questions, lifting an eyebrow. “That, I did not
know.”
“Now you do.”
“I do. And here’s the thing”—he reaches one hand up to brush
my hair off my cheek—“I want you, too.”
“Oh.”
And then his lips descend on mine, sending my already-frazzled
heart into fits.
This is a prom night I will definitely never forget.

Corey

Not too long ago, she was just a girl. Now she’s the woman I
want most in the world. The only woman I want. And I want her to
know it. Right or wrong or some shade of gray in between, I could
not fucking care less right now. I want my girl to know she’s wanted.
When I pull back from the kiss, I’m met with a look I’ve never
seen in those big blue eyes before. Hungry, needful. Desperate. It’s
all the invitation I need to do it again. But.
“Aris,” I say in warning, but my voice is too strangled to be
convincing.
“Don’t, Corey. Don’t say what you’re going to say.”
I chuckle, but it ain’t funny. “You don’t know what I’m going to
say.”
“No,” she agrees, pouty, and adorable, “but I’ve never been
kissed before that. And it was amazing. Better than amazing. And
then you stopped.”
I growl out a frustrated breath, letting my gaze journey down the
line of her neck, to her collarbones. Further. How in fuck has she
never been kissed? It takes every whit of willpower I have left,
however splintered, not to run my tongue and lips over hers again,
and then everywhere else.
What exactly happened when she turned eighteen, that imbued
her with this new, sensual boldness?
As we slow dance more her dress shimmies lower, and lower,
until I can see the barest hint of her pink nipple. Luscious, that’s what
she is. She’s fucking luscious. I jerk my gaze up to her face, her
mouth, but that ain’t any safer. Every inch of her is too much
temptation.
And somehow we’ve wandered very close to my bedroom door.
“We can’t,” I grumble. My hard cock pressed to her stomach says
otherwise.
 “Why not?”
Let me count the ways…
Aris frowns, flicking her pretty eyes up at me as she feigns
innocence. Damn. She’s cute as fuck.
If only I could take my eyes off her lips. “I don’t remember,” I
groan, my mouth clamping down on hers again. God I love her sweet
taste. Just like that my self-control is shredded, and the next thing I
know I’m holding her face with both hands, pinning her against the
wall. She mewls, and my hands go exploring. They roam up and
down her soft curvaceous body.
I need her. All of her, inside and out. I’ve never been drawn so
completely to any other woman this way. Like she’s always belonged
to me.
There’s a word for that, and it’s sitting right at the tip of my
tongue. But I’ve never said it to anyone before who wasn’t family, or
drunk, or both. Now I’ve got half a mind to make tonight a night of
firsts, for both of us.
Thank God Aris held her dress up so effectually at her prom,
because it slides down even more, gradually, then all at once, the
fabric bunching around her waist, exposing her beautiful tits. No bra.
I pounce, squeezing them in two perfect handfuls. I tease her hard
nipples between my thumb and forefinger. Aris moans. She reaches
down between us, fumbling with the button on my jeans.
For a young woman who just had her very first kiss, she isn’t
holding back now. And I ain’t complaining. She undoes the button
and slides down the zipper. She dives into my pants, and frees my
sex.
 Our lips crash. We ping-pong through the doorway and into the
moonlit bedroom, her hand still wrapped around my pulsating shaft. I
lay her down on my bed, gripping two fistfuls of the dress I bought
her, my greedy hands yanking it all the way down her legs.
“Sweet Christ.” The sight of her in my bed wearing nothing but a
thong is enough to make me want to pull my dick raw just looking at
her.
“I told you…” Her eyes soften, becoming reticent. “…I was curvy.”
“You didn’t have to tell me, babe.” I proffer a smirk. “I knew.” I
peel off my shirt and shuck out of my jeans, watching her face light
up anew. “Now I’m gonna show you”—lowering my voice, I crawl into
bed with her—“how much I desire those curves. Each, and every,
one.”
I kiss a featherlight trail from the shell of her ear to her chest,
spending extra time between her breasts. She bucks her hips,
arching her back as I claim one nipple in my mouth, then the other.
Only after I’ve teased both pretty pink tips mercilessly do I descend
down her body, kissing and nipping and nibbling until I’m there—
nudging my nose between her thighs. I inhale the fragrance of her
sweet, sweet arousal, holding the breath deep in my lungs.
“You smell so exquisite, baby.” I hook one finger into her thong,
sliding it over. I take a moment to just stare, reverently. Fuck. I could
spend all night leisurely licking that perfect, juicy little peach. “Such a
beautiful pussy.”
I peel off her panties.
I nudge her knees further apart as I make myself right at home
between her legs. Aris gasps when my lips touch her swollen clit.
“Mmm,” I moan, holding onto her while she shivers in delight. God I
love her. I love her thighs against my ears. I love her breathy little
sounds of pleasure. I love the taste of her honey as I slide my tongue
up and down her wet folds.
“That feels so good,” Aris pants. “Too good, Corey. You’re
torturing me.”
That makes both of us. As much as I’d love to feast on her some
more, I need to be inside her. Now.
I push up against the mattress, grinning as I crawl over Aris once
again. My erection springs toward her, and her eyes widen.
“Don’t worry, Smiles. It will fit.”
“I don’t think so,” she argues, with a girlish giggle. “But I’m really
excited to try.”
“Yeah?” I press the tip against her seam. “You want my cock,
baby?”
“Yes,” she whimpers. “Inside. Please.”
I push the head between her folds, and Aris issues a soft yelp.
I pause, reaching up to paw at her tits. I narrow my gaze. “Do
you remember how to get out of this?”
“Do you remember that I don’t want to?” she volleys back.
I laugh. “Roger that.”
I hold up the backs of her thighs as I peer down, at the crown of
my junk wrapped in her hot, tight folds. She’s gasping and moaning,
and I’m only just getting started. I sling her legs around me and
reach for her hands, clasping them as I shove the whole length
inside of her in one smooth, steady plunge.
Aris cries out, and I bend down to kiss her lips. I pull back, then
sink into her again. Out, in. Nice and slow until her channel yields to
my girth and her hips grind against mine, urging me on. Meeting my
thrusts.
“More,” she simpers. “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”
I love you.
Over and over I dive into her, our bodies rocking together in a
perfect crescendo, a new pace that’s only ours. Can only ever be
ours.
I love you.
She locks her ankles, reaching up to drag her nails down my
spine. I fuck her harder, deeper. I know she’s close.
I love you.
Faster, deeper. Harder.
“I love you,” I say it, and I hear it. My words, and hers. Together,
in the same breath.
Powerful waves of pleasure surge, and crest, and violently crash,
almost knocking me right out as my girl comes, so intensely she
tows me over the edge with her. I plunge into her once more, filling
her all the way to the hilt as I paint her walls with my seed.
Aris smiles. That smile.
“I love you, baby.” I kiss her. And then I kiss her some more. “I
fucking love you.”
 Five

Aris

Pregnant.
It’s been five weeks. Only Corey knows. We haven’t told anyone
that we’re dating yet. I want to. But it’s still so new, and it’s good, and
I don’t want anything to mess that up. I remember my parents’
divorce. It was ugly. And I’ve watched Megan and Dustin swing back
and forth like a pendulum so often it makes me woozy.
Of course that could just be my morning sickness.
Geesh. I wish I could keep us a secret a little bit longer. It feels
so special, like what we have is only ours, at least for now. But with a
baby coming…we really need to start telling some people.
Megan first.
Then my dad.
I’m no relationship expert, but I’ve witnessed others crash and
burn. Maybe if I hold on to this tight enough, I can keep it sacred.
Megan and Dustin broke up after prom, got back together at
graduation, then broke up again, “for real this time,” a week ago.
Today my bestie and I are back at the mall—which I drove us to,
thank you very much—treating ourselves to some retail therapy and
warm, doughy cinnamon swirls. The way Corey loves and accepts
my body just the way it is, I find that I no longer hate shopping.
I realize that’s silly. Outwardly, pregnancy hasn’t changed my
body at all yet. I’m the same me as before. I could’ve liked shopping
all this time, if I would have just accepted my body the way Corey
has.
 “Look at this!” I turn to see a squealing Megan standing in front of
a gorgeous blush-pink, faux-leather handbag with golden clasps. “It’s
so you!”
I can shop for more than just accessories, but old habits die hard,
and she’s right. That purse is me. I’m practically drooling over it.
I flip over the price tag. “Yowza.”
“Let me buy it for you.” She picks it up. There’s sorrow in her
eyes. I know it’s her guilt. Meg still feels horrible for leaving me alone
at prom. I wish she wouldn’t. The more she drags this out, the worse
I feel for keeping the World’s Biggest Secret from my best friend.
“Will you stop? I told you it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine. I ruined your prom night. And for what? Dustin
the Dicknipple. Worse, you had to get a ride home from my brother.”
She wrinkles her nose, and holds the handbag tight to her chest. “I
insist.”
I should tell her the truth like, yesterday, but the words won’t
form. She practically leaps over to the checkout counter to make the
purchase.
Later, we’re walking through the parking garage on our way back
to my car, and I get this eerie, weighted sensation. It’s…familiar.
Then comes a voice, too threatening, too close. A stranger’s
voice. “Give me your money.”
Meg and I both startle, wheeling around as one with our arms
intertwined. She gives the man a head-to-toe perusal, screwing up
her face at him. “No.”
He quirks his brow, taken aback, maybe even disturbed by her
grit. Then he lunges straight for me. My arm comes loose from
Megan’s. She screams. He spins me around so my back is pressed
against his chest, my throat locked in the crook of his elbow.
I remember everything Corey taught me. No one wants to ever
be in this position, and I might never be strong enough to spar with a
grown man. But it isn’t impossible to escape a standing rear choke
like this. I slide Megan a fearless look. I got this.
In one breath I sweep my foot behind the brute and grab his legs
and we both fall back.
For a second I forget what I’m supposed to do next: fucking run!
My instincts aren’t exactly honed.
I stare right into the assailant’s face, wide-eyed. He looks
stunned too. And then he just looks pissed-off. He balls his fists, and
I jump to my feet. My hands instinctively go to my stomach.
“No!” I shout. “The baby!”
“Ahh shit,” the guy sneers. Shaking his head, he backs away
slowly, hands raised in surrender. And then he bolts.
The only sound is our rapid breathing.
Megan eventually whirls to me, her expression pulled into a
question mark. “Did you just say…baby?”
“Yes.”
“Whose baby?”
“Mine.”
“Your—what? When did you even have sex?”
“Remember, um, prom night?”
“Yeah…” She stretches the word until it’s just breath. “But you
said Corey picked you up?”
I gulp a swallow, waiting for the ball to drop.
 “Oh my gawd, honey.” Megan wraps me up in a squeeze. But it
isn’t congratulations. It’s…sympathy? “I’m so sorry I ditched you, and
you were so lonely that you slept with my brother! I’ll kill him! And
now you’re—” She breaks from me, laying her palms against my
belly. “Is it his?”
“Yes,” I answer, taking her hand. I’m ready to get back in my car
and get the hell out of this parking garage. We walk and talk.
“Does he know?”
“Yes.”
“Holy-moly, this is huge! Did he freak out or what?”
If only she knew, her formerly commitment-phobic brother was
actually over the moon. I smile, and yes, it’s a big, big smile. No, I
don’t care. “He didn’t freak out.”
We get in the car and buckle in. She pokes my cheek. “You’re
blushing.”
“I love him,” I say, too abruptly, but with so much earnest, “we’re
totally in love.” After a long moment that’s too quiet, I start the car.
Megan pins me with a dubious stare as I back out.
“Holy shit,” she gasps, some added revelation dawning on her.
“We’re gonna be sisters!”
“Yeah, kinda.” I grin again, matching hers. In some ways it feels
like we’ve always been sisters. “But um,” I mutter, “we should
seriously call the cops.”
 Six

Corey

When Aris told me about the attack at the mall, not a half hour
ago, my vision went red. That’s two attempted robberies in barely a
year. The Wylder Bluffs aren’t known for a lot of crime—much of my
work with the Fort Montevallo S.W.A.T. team is on base, or closer to
Boise—but as the population grows, the crime has started to tick up.
Thank fuck she and Megan are okay.
I’m proud of Aris; sounds like she did exactly what I taught her to.
But I’m not about to let my guard down. I have to keep working with
her. Especially now that she’s carrying my baby.
The baby. Now there’s a whole other set of challenges, joy and
concern all twisted together. I admit, I wanted to flip the fuck out at
first. I think I hid that tumult alright. Aris had her own emotional
weight to carry, she didn’t need to take on mine.
I knew I’d be fine. When it came down to it, I already knew
without a doubt I wanted Aris for the rest of my life. I’m ready to
marry that girl. I knew I’d want to breed her someday.
Wish I could’ve been there to see the look on Megan’s face when
it all came out. That’s one down. One to go.
I’m still wound up after learning what happened outside the mall.
She called the cops, and I know they’re on it. Only one way to get all
this angry tension out of me—well, two ways, but Aris ain’t here to
help me with one. The other way is to get to the gym and pump it
out.
 My teammate, Bradley, is also here, stress exercising. It smells
like iron, sweat, and determination. Heavy rock music blasts from the
speakers.
Ever since Aris dealt me the big news a week ago, I’ve been
wanting to talk to another dad. Not my dad, not yet. Preferably
another SWAT officer, but there’re only two dads on the team. Shane
is one. The other is Bradley.
I lift my chin at him in greeting, and he does the same. It’s not the
most conducive environment for chitchat, but I can’t exactly picture
sitting down with him at a coffee shop.
“How you been, man?” I ask between sets.
Bradley grunts with his last rep. He puts down the weight.
“Stressed.”
“Same here.” I huff a laugh. “How’s your kid doin’?”
“Struggling.”
“School?” Bradley’s son Caleb has got to be in the first or second
grade now. Might not seem hard when you’re twenty-five. But it’s a
big transition away from naps and play.
“Little bit,” he says.
“Yeah?” I ask. “What’s that like?”
“Bro.” He picks the weight back up, curling his biceps. Talking—
or rather, almost yelling over the cranked music—is no reason to
slow down or stop. “What’s with the goddamn twenty questions?”
“Ah,” I make a little noise he can’t hear. I shrug. It’s all the reply
he needs to call me out.
“You got a girl pregnant?” When I take too long to either confirm
or deny the assertion, Bradley gives a hearty chuckle. “If I wish you
congratulations, would I be the first?”
 “Indeed,” I answer. I can’t help but crack a smile. It feels too good
to say it out loud.
“Hey man, that’s excellent news. Congratulations.”
“You’re not going to ask me who?”
He looks at me sidelong in the mirror. “No.”
I get it. He don’t want information he shouldn’t have. He’s good,
that guy. Smart. Keeps his conscious as clean as a whistle.
“What else?” he says, taking me off guard.
“Hmm?”
“I see more questions spinning in that hat-rack of yours. Go on.
Lay it on me.”
“Alright…Did you always know you’d be a good father?”
“Man I still don’t fucking know,” he chortles. “I’ll tell you this
though, that boy is my whole entire world.”
My heart clenches. It’s got to be tough for this dude, having a
crazy-ass job like ours while being alpha-and-omega to a six-year-
old kid. Bradley lost his wife too soon. And yet, the man lights up
when he talks about Caleb.
If you can get him to start talking at all.
The door to the gym opens and Shane walks in. He kills the
music and crosses the room over to me. Big arms crossed over his
chest, his stolid mien, he looks at me eye to eye. From the corner of
my eye I make out Bradley gingerly making his way out of the gym.
“I got a call from Aris,” Shane clips, apparent threat in his low
tone. Without any music or the clamor of iron, his deep voice
echoes.
“We didn’t plan this, sir. We should’ve been more careful, that’s
my bad. Fuck,” I grind out, “I wanted to be the one to tell you. We
agreed I would be the one—” I’m talking too much, if the tightening of
his jaw muscles is any indication.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shane says, his eyebrows
knitting together.
I clear my throat. “What were you going to tell me, sir?” I
straighten up, meeting his stare. He doesn’t outrank me, technically.
But he is ten years older. There’s a certain respect due upon him.
Not to mention I’m going to ask him if I can marry his daughter.
“I wanted to say—thank you. Aris was able to defend herself, and
your sister Megan, enough to escape. Thanks to your instruction.”
He nods, once. “I wish I could take credit, Corey. But I didn’t get very
far with teaching her.”
“Course you didn’t. You’re her dad.”
“Yeah.” His eyes narrow, sharply. “I am.”
The air becomes thick with tension. I already admitted too much.
There is no taking it back, and frankly, I don’t want to take it back. He
can stare hot daggers into my soul all he wants.
My next words are pretty stupid. “I waited until she was
eighteen.”
“And not one minute more.”
“Well.” I proffer a grin. Also pretty fuckin’ stupid. “A few minutes
more.”
Shane steps closer, growling, but he doesn’t get in my face. I’m a
half-inch taller so that wouldn’t bode totally well for him. “You trying
to get the lights knocked outta that thick skull of yours, son?”
“No. Sir.”
We stay like this for what feels like an hour, but is probably
roughly twenty seconds. I can think of a hundred things to say to him
now, none of them are wholesome, or justified, or anything close to
what he wants to hear. My shoulders drop, humbly, as I let go of my
breath.
“I love her, Shane,” I purge, suicidally maybe, I don’t care. “I love
her so much.”
He cocks a brow. His intense stare is unrelenting. But his tone of
voice seems…diluted. Diluted with a sense of betrayal. A sense of
regret. A sense of cheer, when he utters the word, “Pregnant?”
“Five weeks.”
Nothing else is said for a while. Bradley comes back into the gym
to get his bag. He leaves again. Quietness pervades—everything.
And then, “She defended him too, then,” Shane recognizes, “or
her.” He looks at me. “Aris saved my grandchild.”
 Epilogue

Aris

My parents survived the news. Barely. Let’s just say it was a

close call.
Time can be a wonderful thing. Almost four years later, we can
look back on all of that craziness, and smile.
The wedding was perfection. The ring—to die for.
But the best part was always our love.
And then we met our baby girl. We named her Lola. She’s three
now, and the absolute light of our world. The reason I have stretch
marks and gray hair, and laugh lines. She’s the meaning of life
tattooed on my skin, all over my home, inside my heart.
I told Mom I wanted to stick around in part to help with my
younger siblings. Five toddlers and an eight-year-old Buster are a lot
of work. Then I got pregnant and I knew I had to stay close by.
I needed my mom. She needed me.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do after high school, so I didn’t go
to college right away. No regrets. It turns out life at home, raising
Lola and loving on a super-sexy SWAT hero, is absolute bliss.
Always crazy.
Often messy.
Sometimes scary—bliss.

Next up: Bradley & Hailee's story!

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