Handcuffs and Lace 25 - The Policeman's Balls by Mia Watts Page A

held very still.
The officer drew closer. The light stayed on Brian’s face, blinding him to everything but the hint of broad shoulder and height. The man had four inches on him, easily. The stale scent of dry cleaning solution on his uniform, and fading Polo Black aftershave gave Brian a strange tightening sensation in his gut.
Officer Severn reached around him. Fingers fumbled at Brian’s ass cheek, dipped inside the back pocket and pulled out his wallet. The light made Brian’s eyes water, and the distinctive pre-sneeze tickle had seized the bridge of his nose. Fortunately Officer Severn retreated.
Brian inhaled sharply. His arm darted up to cover his nose and mouth as he sneezed in triplicate.
The cop didn’t flinch. “Bless you, Brian McCray of 5497 Chamblin Path.”
“Thanks,” Brian sniffled. “Officer Severn of Grand Rapids P.D.”
“Walker P.D.” he corrected, handing Brian back his wallet.
Officer Severn lowered his flashlight. Not that it did any good. Brian had been thoroughly blinded. He made out the officer’s reach for his shoulder radio attachment in silhouette. Officer Severn called in his status.
“Any chance you can help me break in to my own house?” Brian asked. “You really ought to have a duplicate with a neighbor or a friend.”
“I do. She’s an eighty-four-year-old woman who goes to bed around seven every night. My option is waiting for her to get up at five or bust in.”
“Ola Jackson?” Officer Severn asked.
How did he know about Brian’s neighbor?
Officer Severn must have seen his confusion. “She called in the burglary. How about we go over there and put her mind at rest, get your key, and end this night on a high note?”
Brian’s shoulders drooped with relief. “That sounds like a great idea.”
The officer chuckled, motioning with a shadowed arm for Brian to lead the way. Brian walked passed him, inhaling the man’s scent before he realized what he was doing. He’d never thought of dry cleaning as an aphrodisiac, but it certainly gave him a chubby now.
Mrs. Jackson’s front stoop light flickered on. Feeling a little guilty for disturbing her, Brian nonetheless rapped on her door. Through the side panel of windows, he saw the interior lights come on. Mrs. Jackson pushed aside the gauzy window dressing and peered out at him. He was actually relieved to see the thin pressed lips and familiar scowl.
“Hi, Mrs. Jackson. It’s me, Brian.”
The door swung open. “I know who you are, boy. What are you doing on my doorstep in the middle of the night?”
The broad shoulders pushed passed him. Brian got an eyeful of navy blue uniform and the wisping tendrils of dark brown hair along his collar. This close, Brian couldn’t help but notice the perfect fit of the navy blue shirt that spanned his wide back.
“Mrs. Jackson, I’m officer Severn. I responded to your call about a burglar. Your neighbor locked himself out and was trying to get in.”
“Well, for heaven’s sake, Brian. Why didn’t you ring my bell and ask for the key?” she scolded.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” Brian defended.
“So you scare an old lady out of her beauty sleep? Come here so I can smack you.”
Severn stepped completely between them. Brian smiled at the protective gesture, as though Old Mrs. Jackson could actually inflict harm on him. “Can we just get the key, please ma’am?”
Mrs. Jackson harrumphed, looking up at him in a squint. It was the look Brian called the stink eye . She muttered something about mannerless young men and hobbled off, leaving the door ajar.
“Thanks,” Brian offered the blue back.
Officer Severn turned, looking down at him. “You’re welcome.”
His dark brown eyes warmed Brian like freshly brewed coffee. Brian intended to say something witty. Honest. But staring into those deep, bottomless eyes sucked every clever word right out of his vocabulary.
“Hi,” Brian breathed, stupidly.
Severn gave him an odd look. His gaze darted between Brian’s eyes. “Are