"Rookie—"
"Danny." The word comes out rougher than I intend. "My real name is Danny. When I fuck you, I want to hear my real name on your lips."
Her breath catches. "Danny."
The sound of my name in her voice, breathy and desperate, almost breaks my control. I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear.
"After I give this statement, you're coming home with me. Understand?"
"I—I have work—"
"Call in sick." My hand slides up her side, stopping just below her breast. "Because once I get you alone, I'm not letting you go until I've had my fill. Until I've tasted every inch of this body. Until that virgin pussy is stretched around my cock and you're begging me to make you come."
She whimpers, and I feel her body tremble against mine.
"Is that a yes, officer?"
"Yes," she breathes.
"Good girl. Now let's get this over with so I can take you home and fuck you properly."
I step back, giving her space to recover. Her face is flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and I can see the outline of her hard nipples through her blouse. She looks thoroughly debauched and I haven't even touched her properly yet.
"You ready?" I ask, gesturing toward the station.
"Yes." She straightens her blouse, trying to compose herself. "Thank you for coming. For doing this."
"Don't thank me yet." I start walking toward the entrance. "You're about to see exactly how much cops hate bikers who tell the truth."
The station is exactly what I expected. Sterile, cold, smelling like coffee and old paperwork. A sergeant sits behind the front desk, his expression souring when he sees me.
"Can I help you?" His tone says he'd rather do anything else.
"He’s Rookie," Amanda says, stepping forward. "He's here to give a statement about the incident with Officer Hayes."
The sergeant's eyes flick between us. "Right. Chief Morrison is expecting you. Follow me."
We're led through the bullpen, past desks where cops stop to stare. I meet each gaze with cold indifference, letting them see I'm not intimidated. Let them look at my leather vest, my bruised knuckles, my complete lack of respect for their authority.
The sergeant stops at an office door and knocks. "Chief? Collins and the witness are here."
"Send them in." The voice from inside is gruff, tired.
We enter to find Chief Morrison behind his desk. Officer Hayes stands beside the desk, his split lip barely healed, a smug expression on his face.
My hands curl into fists at the sight of him. This is the piece of shit who put his hands on Amanda. Who threatened her. Who probably would have done worse if I hadn't intervened.
"Mr. Wells." Morrison gestures to a chair. "Have a seat."
"I'll stand." I cross my arms over my chest.
Morrison's jaw tightens. "This will go faster if you cooperate."
"I am cooperating. I'm here, aren't I?" I glance at Hayes. "More than I can say for your officer, who couldn't keep his hands to himself."
Hayes's face flushes red. "That's a lie—"
"Enough." Morrison holds up a hand. "Mr. Wells, tell me exactly what you witnessed yesterday morning."
