Page 1 of Take Me Slow

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Chapter One

Blaze

There’s a light mist in the air as I make my way across the street towards the alley. I had gotten a call from our tip line stating that a prostitute would be waiting, looking for customers. We’re working this area heavy looking for girls we can bust, bring into the station, and then find out who has them out here. The sex trafficking problem is so massive in our city that every time I see a young woman walking the streets after dark, I want to rescue her. Taking this assignment merely is my duty to help fix this massive problem.

Before long, I see a girl standing with her back pressed against the old stone wall in front of a timeworn apartment building. She has one foot propped up on an old stump for support. Her stance shows off the six-inch red heels she’s wearing. Besides her being in the location mentioned on the call, I know it’s her just by the nasty way she’s standing there watching me approach her. Suddenly, wearing a suit that costs more than my truck, and a watch that’s even more expensive, doesn’t seem like the right move. She’ll probably recognize me as a police officer just by looking at me. I start to second guess all of my fancy clothes that are on loan from my homeboy, Terry, who is an investment banker downtown. His clothes are the exact things a police officer would wear when they’re trying to fit in. What was I thinking?

“You can borrow this outfit under one condition,” Terry had warned me.

“What’s that?” I had asked warily. I already didn’t want to do this assignment, and he knew it, which is why his response was to further taunt me about it.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare get any cum on it. I swear to God, Blaze, I will kill you if I see some on my jacket.” He had the nerve to look dead serious.

“What the fuck? I’m not actually going to have sex with these women; you know that, right? I just need to look the part so that I can make a deal with the prostitutes. Then, we’re picking them up. So, chill man. It’s nothing like what you’re thinking.”

“Alright, I’m just saying. I don’t want cum on my shit, Magic Mike.”

“Whatever man,” I said and gave Terry a handshake before I made a break for it with the clothes. I didn’t want to hear anymore Magic Mike jokes. I should never have agreed to watch that movie with him. I definitely wouldn’t have if I knew this assignment was coming up. Magic Mike’s not even about prostitutes, either. It’s a good thing we didn’t watch Pretty Woman—

My only comfort is the fact the girl I’m about to approach looks even fancier than I do. She has ridiculously big hair with a head of ringed curls, and a thick black sweater dress that hugs onto every curve on her body. Her red heels have to be at least six inches. She’s trying too hard like she’s using her hair and clothes to cover up the fact that she’s just a nervous little girl.

Instead of enraging me, as I would expect it to, seeing her makes me feel protective. I want to wrap the girl up in my coat to cover her up so no one else can see her, take advantage of her, or belittle her. Then, I want to take her home and feed her something warm. I’m getting soft.

Despite the overcompensation with her clothing and hair, the vivaciousness in the girl’s body is unmistakable. My eyes catch onto her thick-looking thighs and flat stomach, peeking out from the cut of the dress, and my mouth goes dry. It literally feels as if I’ve been eating cotton. None of what I’m feeling is appropriate for an undercover cop. I’m perving on someone who looks barely old enough to buy liquor.

I should be preparing to turn the girl around and cuff her to send her off to jail, but what I’m thinking about are all the other reasons I could roll her over. Number one, she has a really nice ass.

The closer I get, the more my nerves spike. What the hell was I thinking signing up for this assignment to pick up prostitutes? I guess I wasn’t expecting any of them to catch my attention like this girl.

The only thing that helps me relax is the way her eyes keep darting over to a screen in a nearby bar as if she is checking the score of the game to pass the time. It’s such a reasonable thing to do that it makes me feel comfortable as I approach her.

“Hey there,” I say, once I’m close enough to be heard. My voice comes out thick and husky, surprising me. I sound like I’m trying to be sexy. Magic Mike… Terry’s jokes come back to haunt me, almost causing me to chuckle.

She jumps at the sound of my voice, then seems to catch herself. Licking her lips, she looks up at me through her long lashes. And wow, now that I’m closer, I can see she is far from being a kid. Oh no, this isn’t some teenager playing dress-up. She is all woman. She looks to be about my age, and she’s built like a brick house, which doesn’t help my simmering attraction to her one bit. My guilt of lusting over a young girl dissipates quickly and opens the door for me to admire her even more.

“Hey yourself,” she says, the sound of her sultry voice causing a stirring of warmth in my gut that I immediately cool down.

I concentrate on my training. Warm the perp up. Get her comfortable.

“You lookin’ for a good time tonight?” I ask, and instantly I want to cringe. I sound like a sexual predator. Way to go, Blaze.

The corner of the prostitute’s mouth turns up into a half smile like she’s trying not to laugh at me.

“Depends on what’s a good time for you,” she replies. “And… what’s in it for me?”



Tags: Shani Greene-Dowdell Romance