Staying With Her

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“Are you afraid?”  “No,” she gasped.  The cuffs clicked against her skin, “You should be,” he growled, tearing off her lace he exposed her to a burning passion that had her craving for more... The last thing Officer Blackhawk needed was to find a woman in his bed. She ignited a spark to his flame. It’s just incomprehensible. She’s his stable force, his stability in a chaotic world. The atrocious homicide investigation rooted him to a battle of an infinite insomnia. She needed help. He would do anything to have her in his bed again. Here’s the catch-she wants commitment. Something he’s not game for.  Clarissa needed him. He dominated her; his sinful body covered in come-hither ink. When the thought of Blackhawk taking control had her to her knees. Yet, waking up fucked by a stranger wasn’t part of her plan. Once she’d gotten a taste of him, she couldn’t resist. Her boy needs a father, and she needed love.  Can Blackhawk give her the love she deserves?

Romance / Mystery
4.4 18 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter ONE

Blackhawk sat with Officer Martin, on the outdoor patio of the West Precinct–Seattle Police Department. He lit the cylindrical roll of ground tobacco with steady fingers and inhaled the toxicity. Officer Martin smoothed the crook of his neck all while pacing the length of the patio.

"I don't get it..."

"What's not to get?"

"Why all three?"

Blackhawk puffed his lips with a blow of toxins into the bleak sky, strengthening the pollutant dome, "Ulterior motive," he said. Flicking at the end of the bud, he stood from the concrete step, his strong hands dusting off invisible flecks of dust. When assured, he strolled over towards the vinyl columns where the distressed officer gazed at the real world of mothers strolling with squalling babies down the pathway and bustling cars.

The officer sighed, his breath mingling with the neighboring air and went into the mist. Blackhawk placed a support on the man's shoulders, giving him a little pat before slipping it into his black khakis. They stood in silence, giving the usual melody downtown to clog their eardrums while sharing the addicting flavor of the fading cigarette.

"Don't dwell on it, we'll figure it out," he lowered his voice to a gruff and spoke out the side of his mouth as he released the excess smoke. "we always do."

The doors opened and out, walked Kate, the lead detective on the bar case. She was cold and kept a light-brown cardigan wrapped around her shoulders as she strolled towards the gaping men. She was one hell of a sexy woman. Blackhawk examined the gorgeous woman from her black leather boots to the elegant knitted beanie, warming her brunette head. She looked like a woman on a magazine cover with her delicious curves and big round ocean eyes with the skin of the palest olive. Her ivories were on display and she settled in between the two bulky men.


Officer Martin rushed, throwing the bud onto the concrete before stomping his heavy boots onto it. "Detective, any leads?"

"We're leaving for interrogations. Join us."

She peered up into the eyes of Blackhawk. Kate felt the intensity in the air, vibrating arousal through her, causing her to tremble inside. He was the most charming man Kate had ever known. Officer Martin stood zero chances at exceeding the man's perfection. She masked her admiration into a solemn facade.

Martin nodded, jolted up the mass of stairs towards the backdoor, and into the office filled with occupied officers. Blackhawk stood with one hand in his trouser pocket, pretending to lounge in front of her instead of exposing the amount of lust that covered his mind as he surveyed her coolly. Her dark lashes blew over her eyes and swept the skin below it. He noticed every detail. From the scattered freckles across the bridge of her nose to her shuddering because of potential coldness. However, he'd like to think his maleness started it.

She broke the electric feeling in the air. "He's keen."

Blackhawk shrugged. "He's part of the furniture. He's bound to crack." He shifts his eyes from the beauteous woman to glance at his wristwatch, "It's almost noon, where's the place?" He met her eyes again.

"Western Avenue," she looked down at the deflated bud. "Back to old habits I see." She smirked, cocking him a skilled eyebrow.

He moved around her as he heads to the doors. "That's a nine-minute drive. Let's get a groove on Detective."

• • •

"Is there anything else you'd want to tell me?"

Kate gripped onto her black notepad for composure. The man irked the hell out of her. Richard knotted his brows into a tight line, thinking back to the incident that had occurred over four months.

The crippled man tapped his fingers against the base of his scruffy chin, clawing at the rim of the bar stool, "Yola left an hour earlier that day...said she had family problems." He nodded.

Kate bit onto the inside of her cheek. "Had she mention any family problems before?"

"Nah, come to think of it...she was alone."

"As in no family?"

"Yeah, she'd always gush over that ugly pussy of hers but never have I heard her mention anything about family."

Kate straightened her posture and flipped to a new page of her pad. She had received little information from the bar owner for six minutes after arriving. She needed a drink and fast. Clicking at the end of her black bullet point pen, she wrote the necessity details from the man's vague description. Blackhawk stepped out from the men's bathroom, a hand on his zipper as he slid it up.

He slid his hands into his trousers. "How're we looking?"

Kate set her jaw and stared at her notepad.

"I'm waiting," he said.

Kate grabbed a hold of his bulging wrist and led him toward the small built-in stage. Blackhawk allowed the persistent woman to drag him into the darker corners of the empty bar. She stopped and scrunched her hand into a fist as she held it up to his chest.

He folds his arms across his broad chest. "Are you going to hit me, detective?"

She groaned an lowered her fist into the pocket of her cardigan. "He's as thick as two short planks."

She pressed a laugh and moved to drive the notepad into his hand.

Left work earlier, usually at 2 a.m –F̶a̶m̶i̶l̶y̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶b̶l̶e̶m̶s̶.

Moronic boss.

Blackhawk released a deep-throated laugh, pressing her buttons. Even his laugh had her on the edge for sounding seductive. His scent invaded her nostrils as he bent down to grab his knees. A mixture of cinnamon and musk.

He stood to his full height. "You've been doing this for a while detective," he said. “What makes him special?"

She sighed. "I'm short-tempered."

"How did you get on the force?"

She didn't like men. Not after the horrendous deed that her ex-husband, Donald had committed. They disgusted her. She'd sworn to never fall for another man again, to never trust their venomous promises and to never let him into her heart.

"I'm quick on the uptake."

Blackhawk snorted. "If it weren't for Donald, you wouldn't be in this position."

Kate gasped. Her professional facade had now vanished, exposing her deepest scars and rage. The nerve of this man! She knew that he knew about their disloyal relationship. How could he not? He was with her when she signed the agreement with her then-husband. Heck, he bolstered up her unloved marriage to her boss.

He threw it into her face like a dirty rage. How would she be able to respond to that? "Yola–"

Officer Martin marched through the doors of the bar. "Blackhawk!"


Martin retrieved his cellphone and handed it over. "We got a lead."

Blackhawk's eyes scanned the note sent from Lieutenant Carter at the Precincts Department. 'The men headed to 2nd Ave.' It said.

She got narky with waiting for the axe to fall. With a nod, Martin strolled over towards the calling officer at the front door, discussing the new information.

Kate's face paled at the sight of the words written by Lieutenant Carter and the horrific picture accompanying it. Body found. She placed her hand on top of Blackhawk's wrist, briefly closing her eyes as she clutched onto it for dear life. She dropped the phone to the ground and dashed out towards the woman's bathroom.

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