Protect and Serve: Badge Bunny

Protect and Serve: Badge Bunny
Cynthia Sax

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Cynthia Sax

ISBN: 978-1-60521-476-4
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Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1046
Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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Protect and Serve: Badge Bunny

Cynthia Sax

Getting arrested has never been so sexy.

My name is Officer Drake. I’m genetically enhanced to be the best damn policeman there is. I can snap a werewolf in two. I can outrun a car. That’s not boasting. Those are the facts.

I’m designed to protect and serve, and when I spot a plush little bunny shifter by the name of Hunny Lapin, that is exactly what I do. I protect her from a strip club owning vampire and serve up her every desire in bed. ’Course, that lands me in a whole heap of trouble, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m a supercop, remember?

01 Drake’s Blog

“When was the last time you got laid, Drake?” This is my partner’s idea of clever conversation. Shoot me now. To clarify, that isn’t partner in the sexual sense. Hell no, I don’t swing that way and even if I did, I’d never be that desperate. We’re cops. Wright’s got my back, most times, when he isn’t juggling two exotic dancers on his lap.

When was the last time I got laid? When was the last time Wright groped a waist wider than a toothpick? Two dancers are needed to fill up the man’s lap. I eye their skinny bodies with disinterest. It would take five of those chicks to satisfy my larger appetite.

I’m a big guy. I prefer to play with women my own size. That means yummy mommies with hand-filling curves, not little girls with pokey elbows and ribs I can count.

“Fuck off, Wright.” I sip my scotch. The other undiscerning dickheads come here after hours for the tits and ass. I come here for the drinks. The Fox Hole doesn’t water down their alcohol like other strip bars do.

“There’s your answer.” Sarge laughs like a hyped-up hyena shifter. Before you give him respect he doesn’t deserve, his rank isn’t sergeant. The asshole just acts like one, barking out orders any sensible cop will ignore if he wants to stay alive. “You know, Drake, you’d get lucky more often if you didn’t act like such a scary son-of-a-bitch.” Sarge pats down his lap mate. I’ve seen him handle his gun with more passion than he’s touching his nearly nude stripper. “Hell, even the badge bunnies leave you alone, and they’ll do anyone in uniform.”

I grunt at his piss poor advice. It doesn’t warrant a proper response, and for your information, I don’t act. I am a scary son-of-a-bitch -- genetically enhanced to be the best damn policeman there is. I can snap a werewolf in two -- those furry buggers are notoriously hard to subdue. I can outrun a car, even one jacked up on rocket fuel. I sniff the recycled air. I can smell strawberries in a room full of sweat, pussy, and cum.

I turn my head slightly. There she is. Golden brown hair frames a round face dominated by a pair of big brown eyes and a twitching nose. That’s a woman. Hunny Lapin -- despite her porn star name -- is everything I consider fresh and clean and wholesome. What’s she doing here? I have no idea. I’ve seen her before so I know she isn’t lost.

She sure doesn’t fit in though. Why? She’s fully clothed, for one. Her plush body is clad in a fluffy pink sweater and a knee-length skirt. For another, she starts at every loud noise. This is ridiculous as she’s in a strip bar, not a library. The tone-deaf DJ throws on a new hip-hop song and she jumps. Naked bodies smack together as they tend to do in strip bars and she trembles. Krag Fox’s men holler at each other, and she flinches.

Meatheads are positioned at all doors tonight. Someone is in deep shit. I’d step in and ensure this someone doesn’t die a slow and painful death in one of the vamp’s backrooms. But this is the Fox Hole. Anyone here I’ll end up either arresting or killing. Fox, bless his non-beating heart, is simply doing my job for me.

The scent of strawberries intensifies and a wave of horniness engulfs me. Hunny is hurrying this way. She doesn’t glide like some high-class chicks do. She bounces and all body parts -- I drop my gaze -- I mean all body parts bounce with her. Damn, she has a fine pair of breasts. I lick my lips, hungry for a taste.

Some men claim that more than a handful is a waste. I think they’re full of shit. The bigger, the better, and Hunny’s pair are at the top of my big breast list. They’re even finer because they’re real. One blast of cold air and those nipples can be listed as deadly weapons. They also jiggle when she jiggles, which is what she was doing now. I’d sit back and enjoy the show except every so often she fervently glances behind her at Fox’s approaching goons. The girl is in trouble.
Help me
, she mouths. Those brown eyes widen with fear.

This is none of my damn business. I recognize that. I don’t know her and if she messed with Fox bad enough to warrant a death sentence, she can’t be as sweet and innocent as she appears. But I’m trained to protect, and Hunny needs my protecting. The cop genes kick in. I pull her onto my lap so she straddles me – panty-covered pussy to pant-covered cock. I grow hard ’cause I’m human. Soft angora rubs against my face. The pastel pink sweater, as nice as it feels, unfortunately has to go. Fox’s men can spot it a mile away. I yank it upward over her head and drop it on the permanently sticky floor.

“Whoa, Drake.” Wright gawks at me, his big mouth open. “It was just a suggestion. I didn’t expect you to get laid right here.”

Oh, happy day. I exceeded an asshole’s expectations. “Fuck off.” I repeat my earlier advice and concentrate on Hunny’s situation. The goons are drawing nearer. I cover her bare back with my big hands. She buries her face in my neck. She’s scared. Her large silk-covered breasts shake against my chest. This drives me a bit nutso, my cock twitching like her cute little nose. She’s soft and warm, and she feels like she belongs to me, which is indeed nuts because I don’t do relationships. I prefer my sex like my scotch, straight up with nothing else added.

I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I hold her until the men pass. When the coast is clear, I murmur, “Not that I’m complaining, Hunny buns, but to what do I owe this pleasure?” against her cheek. Unable to resist, I trace her perfect pink shell of an ear with my tongue.

Her reaction almost makes this tough guy lose control. The musky scent of her wet pussy floods my nostrils. Heat radiates from between her legs. She trembles. There are no mixed messages here. The woman likes her ears touched. That’s just fine because I like touching her ears. I’m a bit freaky that way.

“Slide your hands into my bra,” she whispers, looping her arms around my neck. This lifts her breasts, offering them up for my inspection. “The future of mankind may depend upon it.”

Sure thing, double-oh-sexy. I don’t need the saving mankind excuse to touch her breasts. I’ve dreamed about cupping them since I first saw her. Every dream ends the same way, with me waking up, cock in hand.

She’s fully into this spy business, kissing my forehead, a tender gesture a man like myself isn’t treated to very often. Her honey brown curls fall forward, shielding my search. Duty calls. I slip my hand between silk and skin, two of the softest materials on earth. Her nipples tighten.

“The other one,” she pants, wiggling in my lap, her fingers digging into my bald skull. My cock is pulsing steel. There is only so much wiggling a man can take.

Not ready to give up my prize just yet, I sweep my callused thumb over her nipple. She gasps. I grin. This is, hands down, the sexiest search I’ve ever performed. Put this in the police brochure and we’d get a hell of a lot more recruits, that’s for sure.

She frowns and I switch breasts before she gets pissed. Hot damn, the second breast is as heavy and full as the first. This woman is doubly blessed. I take my time circling her nipple. My fingertips bump up against something hard. I scoop the foreign material out. Fuck me. It’s a data magnet. “What --”

She swallows my words, kissing me deeply, her sweet tongue filling my mouth. The questions can wait, I decide. I palm the data magnet with one hand, and pull up her skirt with the other. Interrogations can be done later at the precinct. Feeling her ass has to be done here and now.

02 Hunny’s Blog

I’m not a whore, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not even a stripper. I’m playing tonsil hockey with Officer Drake because I like kissing. I also like Drake, maybe a bit too much, and this might be the last kiss I ever share.

Krag Fox, my vampire boss, is going to kill me. I wasn’t blowing smoke up Drake’s fabulously tight ass about the future of mankind depending on this data transfer. Taking the data magnet from Drake’s hammer hands, I put it in his shirt pocket, right under his shiny silver badge.

Well, maybe a little bit of smoke. I lift my hips so Drake can trail his now free hand over my panty-clad pussy. I don’t know what information I copied, only that it is in code. That, alone, is cause for concern. Fox is not a discreet crime lord like my Uncle Flopsy. Fox is open, verging on proud, about his pimping and drug running and mafia-style executions. I can’t even fathom what he considers so bad he needs code to hide it.

I clutch Drake’s bald head to my admittedly magnificent pair of breasts, his tongue slipping down the crevice between them. Curiosity killed the cat, and it looks like that saying holds true for bunny shifters. The supposedly reformed hacker in me couldn’t resist copying the code so I could crack it. The only thing that will end up cracked is my skull because I got caught. My exceptional hearing bought me a couple minutes to shake my powder puff tail out of the back office.

Running into Drake was a stroke of luck. I’m not a fan of the boys in blue, having spent some time in the clink myself for the aforementioned hacking, but Drake, for all his tattoos and skull-splitting ways, is one of the good guys. That Fox hates him says it all.

He’ll do the information right, and he’ll do me right. “Fuck me.” I unzip his pants and unbutton his boxer shorts. Wow. That is one hard, large cock. I eagerly stroke it. This last fuck is my final gift to myself. I deserve it for saving the world.

“Here?” Drake comes up for air. His bald head is rosy.

“Here. Now.” We’ll have to fuck in public, in front of his friends. We don’t have much choice. Once I leave the strip bar, I’m dead. I’m nervous, as exhibitionism isn’t my regular style. Like I said before, I’m no whore. I usually don’t even kiss on the first date. But I’ve never faced death before.

The possibility of a public fucking doesn’t faze bad boy Drake. He hardens even more, his cockhead turning a deep purple. I pump his thick shaft, my thumb spreading the dab of cum on his tip. He isn’t moving though, which is concerning. “Please hurry.” I don’t know how long I have.

One flick of his fingers and the ribbons holding my panties together snap. Damn, he’s a beast, all muscle and power. “You’re not going to self-destruct, are you?” His normally grim face lightens with humor.

He is no dummy. His wit is quiet but there. I grin. “I might.” I get down to business, positioning him as he lifts me. The self-destruct thing isn’t bullshit either. If he doesn’t fuck me soon, I’ll explode.

“Can’t have that.” He thrusts me down on him like I weigh nothing. My eyes roll back in my head. He is so large, he stretches me to the point of pain. I like it. I love the feel of him inside me. I clutch his shoulders. “Did I break you?” he asks, genuine concern tinting his voice.

Has he broken women before? My pussy hums in anticipation. I do like it rough. “Not yet.” I wiggle, suspecting that I’m in for a treat. “You’ll have to try harder. I’m no delicate flower.” I’m well aware that I’m four times the size of the naked stripper dancing around a nearby pole.

“Thank God.” He doesn’t seem to mind. He cups my ass, raising and lowering me in long, deep strokes. My breasts jiggle. My extreme support bra is doing nothing so I pull it down, exposing my nipples. He shows the proper appreciation for their bounty. His grip on my skin tightens. As he lifts me, he bends his head and licks a breast. His tongue is hot and wet and rough. I shiver. My pussy quivers. I am so close.

He is too. His jaw clenches. A vein pulses in his tattooed neck. “I can’t last, Hunny,” he apologizes. “You’re too tight.”

There is a reason for that. “It has been a while.” I want him to know that, that he is special, that this isn’t a casual fuck in some seedy strip bar. Maybe then I’ll be remembered by someone, if only for a moment.

I stare into those genetically enhanced black eyes as I ride him, memorizing his rugged face. I’ll think of him as Krag takes my life. Yes, I’ll think of this exact moment, Drake’s thick cock pistoning in and out of my hot pussy, his uniform rubbing against my breasts, his hands on my ass cheeks.

The tremors increase in strength until they sweep over me in hot and cold waves. “Drake.” I arch my back, my hair tumbling over my shoulders. I love my hair. It is one of my best features. That and my breasts, which he’s suckling on, his lips sealed over a nipple. The pressure draws a second swell of ecstasy.

With one final thrust, his hot cum floods my pussy. “Fuck.” He collapses, his face resting against my heaving breasts. “Fuck.”

That says it all, right there. I hold him to me, gulping sex-scented air, my brain fried. Gradually my heartbeat slows and rational thought returns.

“Give the data magnet to someone in the department you trust,” I instruct. It’s unnecessary. Drake is no dumb ass. But I’m dying for this information so I want it handled correctly. “The communication is in code. It needs to be cracked.” I wish I could be the one to do it. A couple more hours and I would have beaten it, but I hadn’t been given those couple more hours and now time has run out.

I also wish I could sit here forever, on Drake’s lap, his cock limp and spent inside me. I can’t. I glance at the door. Only one man guards it. If I make a dash for the exit, I might have a chance. It’s a lie. I am so dead, but I’m telling that lie to myself so it doesn’t matter. I take a deep breath, inhaling Drake’s manly-man scent. I swing my leg over. Wet heat rushes down my leg. I am a sticky mess. What I would do for a shower.

Or another day of living. Or one more fuck. “Thank you for everything.” I kiss Drake for the very last time, caressing his blunt face before I turn and run.