All of Me Read online

  Against his better judgment, Nathan smiled. “Knocking boots? Who are you, Sir-Mix-A-Lot?”

  “He was into big butts. Candyman was knocking the boots.” Danny bit off another Whopper chunk and chewed. “So, are you?”

  “I’m embarrassed for you that you know that, brother. And none of your fucking business.”

  In fact, Nathan was having sex with Christy the CPA/marathon runner. Once per week, typically each Friday from 9-9:15 p.m. There was no stretch of the imagination wide enough to categorize the encounters as “knocking crazy boots,” but that was fine with Nathan. Short, simple, and satisfactory was all he’d ever required of a sexual encounter and his interactions with Christy fit that bill perfectly.

  “Damn. I can never get it out of you.” Danny said. “Not fair either. I’ve been giving you all of the juicy details since junior high.”

  When Nathan shot back, “Against my will,” Danny laughed.

  “Yeah, right. I-“

  The radio beeped and a dispatcher’s voice said, “Unit 9, a 10-16. It’s across town, but all other local units are tied up.”

  Nathan put the car in drive and slow-rolled out of the Burger King parking lot. He hit the two way button. “Go ahead.”

  “143 South Woodlawn. A man is reporting his girlfriend’s sister is threatening him.”

  “10-4. On our way,” Danny replied, fastening his seat belt. He exhaled a hard sigh, stretching his neck right and left. “I hope this doesn’t turn physical. I pulled something last night and really don’t feel like wrestling a Big Bertha into bracelets tonight.”

  “Maybe try having sex with just one person next time. Less injuries that way,” Nathan said.

  “Yeah, but not nearly as much fun,” Danny shot back, grinning.

  Nathan headed west; eventually turning onto to Palmolive Boulevard and then immediately onto West Demeter. They hung a left onto South Woodlawn and located the address in question. To Nathan’s surprise, there was already a police cruiser there, but it wasn’t a Cleveland car. It was a patrol car from a neighboring suburb, North Collinwood. And one of the officers was restraining a woman while her partner talked to a man on the porch.

  “What the hell?” Danny muttered, already unbuckling his seat belt.

  Cruiser put in park and his own seat belt undone, Nathan opened the door to get out.

  “Stella…Stella…calm down. Now.” The female police officer going full hand-to-hand with another female on scene. “Stella! Knock. It. Off.”

  ‘Stella’ wanted out of the officer’s grip. Badly. Enough to give the officer a good shove and try to break her hold.

  Nathan strode over, but before he could assist, the female officer called out, “Don’t! Please! She’s my sister!”

  ‘Stella’ shoved her sister again, but the female officer was built like a brick shithouse and her sister was a tiny thing. It didn’t take long for ‘Stella’ to tire out enough for her sister to get her into a bear hug.

  The officer whispered, “It’s okay, Stell. I know…I know. We’ve got this. Okay, babe? I’m here and the police are here and we’ve got this covered, okay? I promise we will all make sure Eddie never touches Fi again.”

  Without warning, ‘Stella’ broke hold and stormed toward where the male, the male Collinwood officer, and Danny were standing.

  She pointed at the male and screamed, “I told you! I told you if you put your hands on my sister again, I’d kick your ass!” She stomped toward the porch steps, her short, dark hair whipping wildly in the night breeze.

  Fortunately for the dude, Nathan got to her first; gently, but firmly, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pulling her backwards up against his chest…

  Shit, she felt amazing. Soft in all the right spots. And she fit into his body like hers had been meant to. She was short, shapely, and smelled like heaven.

  Nathan inhaled deeply.

  Coconuts and vanilla.

  He wished he could get a better look at her face.

  Nathan loathed having to put his hands on anyone – let alone a furious, writhing, attractive woman. And he’d certainly never noticed – let alone appreciated – anything about any person he’d ever restrained.

  All of it was enough to royally piss him off.

  “Stop. Now. Or I will cuff you and put you in the back of that cruiser, I don’t care who your sister is.” Nathan applied enough pressure to restrain the female, but was careful not to hurt her. She was no real threat anyway…Nathan was 6’4,” 225 lbs and the female was about 5’4,” 125 pounds soaking wet. “I want to help you. And I will. But you need to calm down first.”

  The female didn’t seem to realize she had no fighting chance as she pulled and pushed and dug her heels in, twisting side to side. “Let! Me! Go!” Her rear end brushed up just beneath Nathan’s bat belt and he cringed. “That jerk hurt my baby sister and I am going to tear him apart! And then you’re going to arrest him!”

  Nathan glanced up to find the asshole in question smirking, arms folded over his chest. For a split second, Nathan considered letting the female go so they could both annihilate this woman-beating douchebag together, but rules were rules and laws were laws.

  “Stella, stop!” The female officer came around to stand in front of her sister. She brushed Stella’s hair back off of her face. “Stop, Stella. Please. For me. For Fi.” Stella’s struggling lessened a little. The female officer cupped her sister’s face with both hands. “If you get arrested, that will kill Fi…and Pops. You’ve gotta let it go and let the police handle it, okay?”

  The female scoffed. “Fine! I’ll stop! As soon as they haul him to jail!” She twisted to face Nathan, but – for reasons Nathan didn’t want to explore too closely – he tightened his grip so she couldn’t.

  Over her shoulder, she said, “Hey, officer, you gonna do your job and arrest that guy? Or am I going to have to take care of it myself?”

  Nathan really, really wanted to laugh. But instead he cleared his throat and said, “No, what I’m going to do is ascertain the facts of the situation and proceed from there. Because your sister is not here to discuss the alleged assault, I cannot address that particular issue. I do suggest she file a police report tomorrow. However, you came here and engaged in threatening, disorderly behavior, which means, unless you calm down, the only person getting arrested tonight will be you.”

  “I’ll be…” The female scoffed. “You’ll arrest me?” She laughed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! He shoves my sister and I’m gonna get arrested?” She struggled against Nathan’s hold. “If I’m getting arrested, you might as well let me earn it! Let me go and I’ll really give you something to arrest me for!”

  The female officer rolled her eyes. “Always with the theatrics, Stell.” She folded her arms over her chest and leveled a hard gaze. “Okay, fine. You want your nieces and nephews seeing your mug shot on the news tomorrow morning? That’s how you want to play this?” The officer shrugged and gestured toward the porch. “Then fine. Go at him. And then we can explain that Zia Stella is not at Sunday dinner because she’s in jail.”

  The female sagged back against Nathan in a very…distracting…way. She started crying again.

  “Come on, now, Stell…” Nathan instinctively loosened his grip and Stella fell into her sister’s arms.

  Needing to put some distance between himself and emotional/alluring perps, Nathan turned and scaled the porch steps in two steps. He followed the other male officer – Janiewski, his nameplate said - and Danny’s stances and stood real close to Mr. Numbnuts. It was three officers of the law on one pushy prick and the dude was most definitely feeling the pressure.

  His smirk faded and his posture went limp. “I didn’t do jack shit,” he said weakly. He tried stepping backwards, but Danny was already there and that was like bumping into a brick wall. The guy lifted his hands. “I swear to God, I didn’t touch her sister. We got into a fight and she came at me. I just pushed her away.”

  “Nex
t time be a man and walk away with touching anyone, okay?” Janiewski said, stepping even closer to the guy.

  Danny leaned in from behind and whispered, “’Cause dash cams can break or get unplugged. And when that happens, people can get hurt. Bad. And we’re not your typical sparring partners. We’re not little girls.” Danny pressed his bulky frame into the guy’s back. “We don’t look like little girls to you, do we?”

  If the guy had been any more afraid, he would have pissed his pants. These abusive shitheads were all the same: so big and tough when they were hurting someone smaller and weaker, but the biggest wimps alive when confronted by someone bigger and badder.

  And, for obvious reasons, they were Nathan’s absolutely least favorite wastes of human space on the planet.

  Nathan rested one hand on his holstered gun and placed the other on the dirtbag’s shoulder. He squeezed hard enough to make a point and smiled – which, anyone who knew Nathan could tell you, meant trouble. “If I ever hear that you put your hands on this woman’s sister – or any female – again, I’ll be back. Looking for you. And I’ll be very pissed off. And you really, really don’t want that happen, okay?” Nathan squeezed harder and the guy flinched.

  Mr. Big and Tough nodded and swallowed hard. But then he made the mistake of opening his stupid mouth. “But she…” He pointed a shaking finger over Nathan’s shoulder. “She came here and assaulted me. Aren’t you going to do something about that?”

  “Yeah, Officer Drazek, aren’t we going something about that?” Danny asked, his eyes trained on the back of Jerk-Off’s head.

  Nathan smiled again. “Of course, Officer MacDonough. We’re going to tell this guy that any man who puts his hands on someone smaller and weaker than himself – for any reason - is a pathetic, despicable human being. And that if he ever so much as thinks about doing anything like that again, I will assure him he will be a very, very sorry pathetic, despicable human being.” Nathan’s smile dropped. “Now, you’re going to go into your house and we’re going to drive away. From now on, you’re going to be a man and keep your hands to yourself and we’ll all live happily ever after.” Nathan dropped his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “Any questions?”

  Dipshit opened his dumb mouth again, then shut it. Opened it, then shut it. He looked like a fish gasping for air. His face turned beet red and sweat broke out across his upper lip. The guy was pissed, but ultimately chose to nod.

  “Good.” Nathan gave him one more pointed look before walking away.

  He reached the bottom step, looked up, and stopped in his tracks.

  She was a mess standing next to the female officer: the wind still whipping her dark, wavy hair wildly around her face, her v-neck top askew, and her face flushed and tear-stained.

  From 32 years of being himself, Nathan knew the woman couldn’t possibly tell what he was thinking.

  Thank God.

  Because what he was thinking was that this woman, Stella, was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Not cute. Not attractive. Not drop-dead gorgeous and not good-looking.

  Truth was, she was all those things, but mostly she was beautiful. And fascinating in an exotic, ethnic sort of way that had always appealed to him.

  It was dark, but the moon was full and Nathan blamed it for the ethereal glow around her wild hair. Even in the half-darkness, Nathan could tell she had a soft, smooth darker complexion and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her lips were parted and she had the tiniest of overbites. Her deep, dark eyes were rimmed with smudges of what Nathan could only assume was makeup of some kind. And they were staring at him; boring into him. Nathan fought the urge to close his eyes or turn away because her gaze was so pleasurable it hurt.

  “Thank you, brother, for that.” When the female officer spoke, Nathan forced himself to meet her eyes. He dipped his head in a nod. She sighed, running a hand over her spiky, dark hair. “Our youngest sister dated this jerk for a few months and he got grabby.” She shot the beautiful gypsy a look. “I told my sister not to do anything stupid, but, as usual, she didn’t listen.”

  Stella was supposed to be kicking Eddie’s butt and/or avoiding arrest. Instead, she was standing here like a dummy; wondering about things she shouldn’t be and feeling things she’d never felt before.

  The cop – Drazek – was hot. No doubt about it. Way too tall, too handsome, with arms that were way too muscular. And he was way too good at being all cool and calm. And at threatening Eddie. His huge hands had been warm and strong on her bare arms and his deep voice had activated every goose bump from the nape of her neck to the backs of her calves.

  And his appearance perfectly matched his no nonsense attitude: old soul, whiskey-colored eyes, a sharp Roman nose, and thin-nish lips pressed together in a perpetual grimace. His sandy brown hair was precisely clipped close into a sensible, slightly cool style with a military flair, short all around with a little spike in front that might have been a cowlick. Stinkin’ adorable. The only bit of whimsy in an otherwise very serious scene.

  But unfamiliar men were not Stella’s favorite people in the world. And unfamiliar men who happened to be cops? Well, that particular demographic had been crossed over Christmas list for some time now.

  Anyway, he was probably married, which, knowing what Stella did about cops, meant he had “beat wives” on every street too. A guy that good-looking in that uniform and with that strong, silent type attitude? Stella guessed he’d already banged half of Cleveland. And that he’d have the other half under his belt by Christmas. Married or not. But most likely married. With kids.

  What a pig.

  “No problem,” The Other One said, busting into her bizarro musings. “Glad we could help.”

  “Obviously no report,” Drazek said to Nina, arms crossing back over his broad chest. “We’ll put a 10-15 on paper to document the call, but leave out all the drama.”

  Stella huffed.

  Her sister shot her a look. “Stella…”

  “It’s not drama, Nina! It’s called defending your family.” When Stella pointed at the hot cop’s chest, his eyes narrowed. “You should have let me hit him!”

  “That hit would have landed you in jail for the night and Carla and I don’t have the cash to bail you out,” Nina said. “And neither do any of your other sisters or your father. So you should be thanking this lovely officer instead of giving him a malocchio, Stell.” Nina signaled to Jay. “Let’s get her home.”

  Stella felt his eyes on her as Nina and Jay half-escorted, half-dragged her to the patrol car. Nina did the whole guide-the-perp’s-head-into-the-car-so-we-don’t-get-sued-maneuver and off they went.

  Stella didn’t hear any of it: Nina’s chastisements, Jason intervening on her behalf, or the whir of the warm wind flowing through the cruiser’s windows. She was way too amped up.

  She’d tried to behave, she really had. Stella had gone to work and done an admirable job of remaining focused despite her agitation until about 10:30 pm when Fi had called her on her cell. That’s when Stella had found out that “putting his hands on her” meant Eddie shoved Fi hard enough that she had fallen and scraped up her hands and right leg. Stella had gone ballistic; getting Christopher to cover her patients, jumping into her car, and high-tailing it over to Eddie’s house (thank you, Google). The only mistake Stella made was calling Nina for “back up.”

  Yeah, that had been an error. Next time, I’ll work alone.

  Nina and Jay had arrived right after Eddie called the cops from behind the safety of his screen door. But Stella wasn’t sure what would have happened had Nina not showed up because Eddie had been really pissed and they already all knew his affinity for hurting women. Not that Stella couldn’t have held her own. In fact, with how pissed she’d been, she probably would have won that particular match. But Nina and Jason had shown up, ruining any butt-kicking possibilities.

  Not to mention the appearance of those two Cleveland cops.

  Somehow
Stella managed to make it through the ride home and into her bed within 30 minutes. She thrashed around for a bit, making a mental list of the people she needed to talk to and the stuff she needed to do.

  But mostly she thought about a certain stern cop and how she hoped his wife found out about his girlfriends before she wasted any more of her good years on his sorry ass.

  Chapter Three

  He touched her there. Because when you were having sex with a woman that’s where you were supposed to touch her. She seemed okay with it. She didn’t say anything or make any noises indicating otherwise.

  Although she didn’t say anything or make any noises indicating she’d liked it, so maybe I should stop.

  Nathan moved his hand to the more neutral hip area and waited. Still no response. Figuring the hip area was as good a place as any, he tried concentrating on the intercourse he was about to have.

  They were in her west Cleveland apartment in her boxy, peg-legged black bed, lying on top of a hospital-cornered bold-striped sheet set. Her tidy bedroom was as silent as death and as cold and dark as a tomb.

  Why the fuck am I making so many dying analogies right now? I’m supposed to be having fun. Jesus Christ…

  Nathan gritted his teeth as she touched him there. Hesitantly. Gently. Way too gently. As if she wasn’t sure if it was going to fight back or not. She moved her hand up and down.

  It was jerky and not at all the stuff of even the most basic love scene, but then again, his performance wasn’t either. And this had nothing to do with love.

  Despite his morbid internal musings, self-loathing, and overall awkwardness, Nathan knew he could pull this off. He’d done it before and he’d do it again because even robots had needs. Yes, they were fewer and of a lower standard than normal men made of flesh and bone, but they had them all the same. And those pathetic needs were to blame for the innumerable blind dates and awkward hook-ups Nathan (and his partners) had endured over the years. He’d spent a few years trudging through his fair share of “Badge Bunnies” because they were easy to land and easy to get rid of. Women who chase cops aren’t looking to marry them or even have a relationship. They want to fuck cops because they get off on the authority dynamic. And because they think cops are into sexual gun play and kinky handcuffing.