Taming the Lion by Elizabeth Coldwell Page B

of Reno. He was stripping out of the uniform of a US traffic patrol cop, complete with helmet and shiny black leather boots—which were the only things he still had on in the final couple of shots. In itself, the set-up didn’t seem like anything special. But the arrogant cast of Reno’s face, as though he knew the viewer of the photos was in his power, never failed to turn Kaspar on. That and the fact he also had the biggest cock Kaspar had ever seen.
    As he began to stroke himself, Kaspar gazed at Reno, and weaved a fantasy in which the policeman had pulled him over for some traffic infringement.
    “Do you know just how fast you were going back there, eh?” Officer Reno pulled off his sunglasses as he spoke. He leaned in through the passenger window of the car, fixing Kaspar with an unblinking gaze.
    “No, officer, I’m sorry.” He sat up straighter in his seat, responding to the natural air of authority the cop possessed.
    “The speed limit on these roads is sixty-five, and you must have been going closer to eighty. Let me see your license.”
    Kaspar fished the laminated card from his wallet and handed it over, wondering what kind of trouble he might be in. This was his first time driving on American roads. He’d heard stories that the police in these isolated rural areas could dish out some pretty hard treatment to anyone they caught breaking the law.
    “So, you’re not from round here.” The cop’s expression was somewhere between a smile and a sneer, as though he’d scented fresh meat. “I suppose I could put what you just did down to ignorance of the law but that really is no excuse, is it?”
    “No, sir.”
    This was the moment where the cop would tell him not to do it again before writing him a ticket. Kaspar didn’t know how much a speeding fine might be or whether he had enough cash in his wallet. Why did he have the feeling if he didn’t, this man would be happy to take payment in kind?
    “Get out of the car, please.”
    The officer’s words startled him. He hurried to obey, not wanting to displease this big, brooding man more than he already had.
    As Kaspar stood on the side of the road, Reno strutted over to him. Kaspar couldn’t fail to notice how the muscles of the cop’s arms and chest bulged beneath his khaki uniform. This man exuded raw sex. Apprehensive as he was, Kaspar found his cock stirring as Reno came close.
    “Now, your driver’s license tells me you come from Amsterdam. I may not have traveled much but I do know they smoke a lot of dope over there. That something you’re into, hey?”
    “No, sir.” Kaspar fought to keep his voice level.
    “Maybe I should search you. See if you’re carrying anything you shouldn’t be…”
    His heart thumped in his chest. The thought of this big policeman patting him down had Kaspar’s erection surging up.
    “Spread yourself against the side of the car,” Reno ordered.
    Kaspar assumed the required position, with his arms and legs stretched wide, and his torso pressed to the car’s sun-warmed driver’s door.
    At first, the officer ran his hands over Kaspar’s body in a cool, dispassionate fashion, as if he really were just checking that Kaspar wasn’t carrying drugs. But when Reno reached the tops of his thighs, he kept moving upwards until he brushed his fingertips over Kaspar’s hard dick.
    He chuckled. “Well, what do we have here?” Instead of moving his hand away, he continued to stroke up and down Kaspar’s length through his baggy surfer shorts. “Looks like someone’s enjoying themselves rather more than they ought to be. You like what I’m doing to you?”
    Kaspar didn’t want to admit it, but he knew the cop needed to hear his reply. “Yes, sir.”
    “I knew I had a bad boy here. I just didn’t guess how bad.”
    Reno took both of Kaspar’s wrists in one hand. Metal clinked behind Kaspar and he tried to look round to see what the policeman was doing.
    “Keep looking straight ahead,” Reno barked.
    Almost