Page 25 of Cocky Jerk

Of both Mr. Cash and melons—specifically hers.

“I don’t know what you’re up to…”

“I’m not up to anything,” I tell her. Admitting I’m using produce to get into her pants will only send her running. I pull out a piece of pineapple and offer the stick to her. “Try it.”

She narrows her eyes for a split second before dropping her gaze to the piece of fruit. Pulling the pineapple off the stick, she pops it into her mouth. A satisfied grin spreads across my mouth until she closes her eyes and moans loudly. The busy precinct seems to come to a standstill, and everyone turns their attention to Antonia.

“Oh…yes…so…good.”

Her eyes open and lock with mine as her pink tongue sneaks out and runs along her lips. My hands tighten around the bouquet as I struggle to remain unaffected by her shenanigans. My dick doesn’t get the memo though, and twitches against the zipper of my jeans. The boys in blue hoot and holler as I bite back a groan and a smug expression washes over Antonia’s face.

“What’s your game, Pirelli?” she asks as she crosses her arms against her chest. I lose the battle, and my gaze lowers.

“Eyes up here, officer,” she snaps. “Answer me.”

“Uh…what was the question?”

“Why did you send me an edible fruit arrangement?”

Shrugging, I set the bouquet on the desk and glance around the packed precinct. Everyone with a badge is waiting for me to respond, including Richie and Tony. I focus on my partner.

“Can you finish booking the perp?”

He gives me a nod and I turn to the desk sergeant, Judy. She’s in her late sixties and a bitter old tool who hates me. Seriously, I’ve tried my hardest to get the broad on Team Pirelli. I bring her coffee in the morning and last Valentine’s day, I got her a box of Godiva chocolates. She told me she threw them in the trash, but I caught her stuffing her face in the break room later that day.

“Hey, Sarg,” I call, flashing her a grin. I don’t know if she’s lost control over her facial expressions or if she’s had too much Botox, but she never smiles. Actually, that’s not true. She smiled the other day when I fell down the stairs.

“Here, this is for you,” I say, pushing the fruit toward her.

“Hold up,” Antonia interjects. “You mean to tell me I carried that ridiculous thing on the subway so you could give it to her? Oh, hell no.”

Judy takes the arrangement from me just as Antonia lunges for it.

“Give me back my melons,” she demands, leaning over the desk.

“You heard the man,” Judy says. “They’re my melons now.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I suppress a laugh and step around the desk so that I’m standing beside Antonia.

“Enjoy, Judy,” I call over my shoulder as I take hold of Antonia’s elbow. “Let’s go, Curly Sue.”

I start to lead her away from the desk, but she pulls free. Turning to me, she pushes both her hands against my chest and gives me a hard shove.

“I’m not going anywhere with you! You just gave that old lady my edible fruit arrangement!”

I flinch at her choice of words and quickly take her hands from my chest, lacing her fingers together.

“You just called Judy an old lady. We better make a run for it.”

I’m only partially teasing but considering Judy isn’t rushing to kill Antonia, I think she might’ve missed the dig. To my surprise, though, Antonia doesn’t snatch her hands away from mine.

Look at us making progress.

Testing the waters some more, I pull her closer. She lifts her chin and stares up at me skeptically and as predicted, I get lost in those brown eyes.

“Fuck the fruit. Let me take you to dinner, instead.”

Her eyes widen and she looks at me as though I just suggested we take a trip to the moon. Then she bursts out laughing.

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