Free A Fine Specimen by Lisa Marie Rice Page A

waist.
    Alex had a number of
very, very good reasons not to do this.
    A. Though Caitlin
Summers was twenty-eight, she looked like a teenager. And though Alex was
technically only thirty-eight in human years, he was about one hundred
ninety-seven in cop years. This was not a good match.
    B. He liked his women
savvy and experienced and unbreakable. He was a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of
guy, always had been, always would be. He wasn’t looking for a relationship.
    C. This girl— woman —had
relationship written all over that gorgeous face.
    D. Ray had sent her. She
was Ray’s student, sort of like his daughter. Ray was the closest thing to a
father he’d ever had. Sex with this woman would be like…like incest. Wouldn’t
it?
    E. She was going to be
in the cop shop for a whole week, messing with his head. Sex would make it
worse, make him fumble, make him lose his mojo—because knowing she was around
would make him think with his cock instead of his head…
    He never got to F
because the heat in his dick fried his logic circuits. Her mouth tasted as
luscious as it looked, without the syrupy sensation of lipstick he now realized
he hated. She was so delicious he didn’t even do what he usually did—make it a
delicate, tentative kiss until he got signs from the woman that his advance was
welcome.
    No, sir. He dove in,
licking, sucking, biting, as if she were a cream puff and he were a starving
man.
    It was like plunging
into a sea of warm, fragrant flowers that caressed him back.
    She moved her arms to
cling to his neck and dropped her heavy book bag right onto his foot, probably
breaking a few small bones. He didn’t give a shit. That same heavy heat that
took out his brain cells had zapped down to his feet to remove his pain
receptor cells too. He felt no pain whatsoever and impatiently shoved the bag
out of his way with his foot because it created maybe half an inch of distance
between them and that was totally intolerable. He had to be as close to her as
it was physically possible to be. Closer. His grip tightened as he angled his
head for a deeper taste of her, so incredibly delicious he would have laughed
if his mouth had been free.
    His cock was having a
good time too, way up, hard as steel and happily rubbing against the lips of
her sex. The flimsy material of her dress and panties couldn’t hide the shape
of her. He could feel it all, every little ripple through the cloth. If this
was so great that it felt like the top of his head would come off, wouldn’t
feeling her naked flesh be better?
    Oh yeah.
    Alex’s right hand moved
from her waist. It took only a second to bunch that lightweight skirt over his
wrist as his hand slowly rode up that long, soft thigh, arrowing straight
toward…
    Ahh!
    That was it. He cupped
her in the palm of his hand, tightly. They gasped at the same time, out of
excitement and to get some oxygen, their lips never parting, then Alex kissed
her again, harder, deeper. It was so great he almost forgot what his right hand
was doing. Almost. There was something hugely annoying under his hand, keeping
him out. Impatient, he tugged viciously, barely noticing the ripping sound
because his fingers were there, sliding through the soft, wet heart of her.
Softer than the finest silk. He outlined her with the tip of his finger.
    She moaned when he
entered her with one finger, then two. The sound of her moan echoed in his
mouth.
    She was so wet and so
impossibly tight. His entire world had narrowed to his mouth, his cock and his
fingers. There was no way he could get his cock in her without stretching her
first. He separated his fingers and she jolted wildly, shaking. With every
breath came a little moan, as if she couldn’t help herself.
    And then he felt his fingers
pulsing and with the few brain cells left, he wondered if his hand was coming.
    No, it wasn’t his
hand—it was Caitlin Summers. Coming.
    He’d never felt anything
like it. Her little cunt contracted against his fingers in