Officer Off Limits by Tessa Bailey

slipped under her dress to run up the outside of her thigh, a moan escaped her lips. Unconsciously, she thrust her breasts upward, in the direction of his mouth.
    “Yes, I see them, baby. I’d taste you there, too.” Slowly, his hand slid around toward the juncture between her thighs. “You came so quickly for me yesterday, like something out of a fantasy. Were you neglected here?” He ran a knuckle along the seam of her panties. “I know how to make it better.”
    A door slammed on the floor beneath them, the noise echoing through the stairwell. Two women in the middle of a heated argument hurled insults at each other from below. In an attempt to catch her breath and calm the craving for more of Daniel’s expert touch, Story pushed his hand away and straightened from the door he’d backed her against. It didn’t help when she met his eyes and witnessed the stark arousal there, mixed with conflict.
    Heart pounding in her ears, she sidestepped him to pick up the coffee cups. She kept her voice low so as not to alert the women fighting on the floor beneath. “What the hell was that, Daniel? Mixed signals much?” She hated the shakiness in her question.
    Pinching his eyes shut, he made a low sound of frustration. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, dammit. My control disappears around you. It doesn’t help when you provoke me, either.”
    She scoffed in disbelief. “Oh, this is my fault?” The argument paused beneath them. A door opened and closed once more, leaving them in silence.
    “It’s nobody’s fault.” He sighed in defeat. “But it can’t happen—”
    “Again. I get it.” She refused to give name to the gamut of emotions burning in her chest. “Can I leave the stairwell now, please?”
    Jaw tight, Daniel stepped aside to let her pass.
    “Oh, and just so you know, I am going out tonight. It will be after dark. And if you have a problem with that, you can kiss my perfectly palm-sized ass.”

Chapter Seven
    “It’s your round, Danny boy.”
    “Huh?”
    Brent, Daniel’s best friend and fellow Emergency Services Unit member, leaned across the shiny bar table littered with empty pint glasses. “I said”—he made a walking motion with his fingers—“it’s your turn to get up and buy a round of drinks. Where is your head at tonight?”
    Next to him, Matt’s grunt of agreement was barely audible among the loud music and buzz of conversation circulating through Quincy’s, their regular hangout. They both looked at him expectantly.
    Daniel pasted a smile on his face, addressing Brent. “Sorry, I just can’t stop thinking about your sister lately. Think she’d date me?”
    Brent smirked, shooing him from the table. “That’s very funny, you prick. You just bought the next round, too.”
    Daniel shrugged and walked toward the bar, glad for a reprieve from his two friends. They were entirely too perceptive to be around in his current state of mind.
    Brent and Matt had gone through the police academy roughly around the same time as him, but the three hadn’t met until being recruited into the Emergency Services Unit of the NYPD. ESU was called in frequently when a situation became too dangerous for regular-duty officers to handle on their own. Its operations included everything from high-rise building rescue to hazmat decontamination. Or in his case, hostage crises.
    When New Yorkers need help, they call the police. When those police units need help, they call Emergency Services. But tonight was their night off.
    Daniel sidled up to the bar and waved halfheartedly at the pretty redheaded bartender to signal for three more beers. When she slid the drinks in front of him with a flourish, she sent Daniel a smile clearly meant as an invitation. Unable to muster an ounce of interest, he returned her smile politely. Brent and Matt watched him through narrowed eyes when he sat back down.
    He tipped his drink to his lips and pretended not to notice. With an air of nonchalance, he feigned interest