Studying the room like something in it might have changed in the last few minutes, my gaze fell on the security camera mounted to the ceiling behind where Officer Todd had been sitting. I was pretty sure it had once sported a red light. Not anymore though. Curiously, I turned around in my seat, finding that the second camera had also gone dark. Maybe because the interview concluded?
Absentmindedly, I started drumming on the steel table. The acoustics in the room weren’t bad. The table was bolted to the floor. I banged out a quick riff before shifting into a Flock of Seagulls’ solo. It didn’t take longfor me to forget where I was and how probably super fucking inappropriate it was to be beating up police station furniture.
I was standing up, lost in a third epic solo, visualizing a filled arena, when the interview room door swung inward and Officer Todd returned.
I’d just happened to open my eyes seconds before, and I froze in place. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” I blurted out sheepishly.
“Was that Chocolate Chip Trip?” As he asked, it was like a different person emerged. He seemed to shake off a shell he typically carried here as an Omega surrounded by mostly Alpha police officers.
“You know Tool?”
“IloveTool,” he breathed out. He closed the door behind him, locked the knob, and walked towards me quickly, as if he didn’t want to give himself time to change his mind. “You were flirting with me earlier, right? I’m shit at it.”
“It being flirting?” I teased.
“It being pretty much all types of human interaction,” he admitted in a shy, low voice. “Your dimples are fucking hot,” he suddenly rushed out next, his face going crimson after he realized what he’d said.
“You like dimples?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Weak for them.” He played nervously with the collar of his uniform, tugging at it as if he could release some of the heat building in his body.
“Before I say anything else, you understand why I’m here today, don’t you? You didn’t magically forget that I’m the kind of guy who hops into bed, and then directly out of it again. I’m not looking for anything deeper.” My inner voice started whispering that I was a dumbass, but I didn’t listen.Was I trying to scare the guy off?His next words surprised me though.
“We’re not scent matches. You don’t smell good enough. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’rereally hot. I want the fireworks though, and my best chance for a pup. Sorry.” He gave a polite shrug.
“Why sorry?” My voice went husky. “We don’t have to be a match to enjoy ourselves. We can just smell good and feel good.”
“True,” he murmured.
I closed the gap between us, pinching his chin with two fingers and tilting his face up. “Those cameras are off, right?”
He gave an almost imperceptible nod. I leaned down, pressing my mouth to his, and giving him a taste of what he could have... for a night.When I pulled away, his electric green eyes were hooded with need.
“I get off in twenty minutes,” he breathed out, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Meet me at the Roosevelt. I’ll be checked in under the name Mister Carey. Just say you’re my guest and they’ll give you a key.” I leaned down, tilted my head, and bit his earlobe gently before whispering. “One night. One unforgettable night. And just so you know, I’m a giver and a taker.”
I waltzed out of that police station like I owned the world.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I unlocked the Jag.
CeeCee: Are you done at the station? These fucking Morgensteins think they’re untouchable.
Me: I’m always getting in trouble for touching...
I followed that up with a GIF of a kid repeatedly touching a sign that says no touching.
CeeCee: What am I going to do with you?
Me: You could touch me, but, alas, you keep telling me you’re old enough to be my mother.
CeeCee: I am not that old, Tray.
Me: Sorry, I’m losing connection. Can’t hear you.
CeeCee: Come back home!
Me: Just... getting... static...
