I bet you've seen Chris' post about how long it took us to write Good Cop, Bad Cop.
I maintain it was because Chris lives in a time zone I'd never even heard of until I met her. I was living in mountain time (in central now) when we started, which meant when she was going to bed, I was just getting started good on my nightly writing. (g)
Anyhoo, we did finally get it done, and we had a blast doing it, and it ended up being this.
It's a hot little story about undercover cops who like to have sex, and you can find it HERE!
Want a little excerpt? Me, too!
Cody stared at him, what looked like a smirk dropping off his face. He glared at the dog and muttered, "Traitor." Then he held the door open and said, "C’mon in, then. There’s beer in the fridge, if you want one.
"That would be great." He wandered in, the dog breathing heavily on the backs of his knees. Now he just needed to get the man breathing heavily.
Cody pulled open the fridge door and bent over, offering him a wonderful view of that tight ass, his jeans stretched just so. "American or imported?" Cody asked, straightening up with two bottles in his hand. "And stop looking at my ass."
Good thing he didn't have an iota of shame, or he'd be blushing like Cody. "But it's a great ass. I bet you lots of people stare at it. And imported would be great. My cover can't afford it, you know?"
Cody handed him a bottle and the opener that had been stuck on the fridge with a magnet. "Yeah, I guess. The cover, I mean. Not my ass." The blush was back, and Cody was moving, his own open bottle in hand. "Want to check something in the living room. Can come if you want."
He was really getting to Cody. Hot damn. "Sure." Pete followed that tight butt right into the living room, pulling on his beer.
If he hadn’t already seen Cody’s prick he really would have been thinking about the whole big toys for the challenged thing. The truck, the dog, the TV…God, who needed a TV that big?
Cody picked up the remote and tossed himself onto the couch, flicking through the channels. "Want to tape a movie tonight, this’ll just take a minute to set up," he said, lifting his beer bottle and draining about half of it.
The dog tried to crawl up on the couch next to Cody, but Pete neatly cut him off, letting the big drooling mutt knock him down practically on Cody's lap. "Oops. Sorry, man."
Cody swore as he nearly dropped his beer, catching it just before it landed in his lap. Which was practically Pete’s lap. Then blue eyes met his, and Cody just looked at him, his pupils dilating. "Are you?" he asked softly.
"No. Not a damned bit." Pete figured you had to take your chances where they came, and he leaned up to kiss the man, hoping maybe his memories were better than the real thing. They weren't.
Cody made a soft noise that might have been, "Oh, damn," or might have just been a noise, then their mouths were fused together, Cody tasting like beer and behind that, coffee.
The kiss just got deeper and better, and Pete pushed in deep, taking Cody's mouth like he'd wanted to ever since he'd seen him in the parking lot. Cody kissed him back, fighting for control, one hand coming up to the back of Pete’s neck and keeping him there. Like he was going anywhere.
A moment later, though, Cody pulled back and looked at him, his eyes wide and his breath coming in shallow pants. "Shit. I really don’t do this." Then the man kissed him again.
Wow. He'd love to see it when they did something Cody did do.