Possessive Policeman_An Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 2

  And from the snickers that sounded a lot like gossip and complaining that I heard before class these boys are displaying a kind of behavior that is anything but “alpha”…a word they love to use.

  The boy in front of me is wearing non-prescription “fashion” glasses and an oversized T-shirt that is so long it should more accurately be labeled a dress.

  I’m all for doing whatever floats your boat, but there’s no way any of these guys have what it takes to put the motion in my ocean.

  But I’m still angry at Mr. Armstrong.

  And maybe even more angry at myself. Yeah, I am angrier at myself. Definitely.

  Why did his jerkish behavior turn me on so much?

  “As women graduate from college and enter the workplace in greater and greater numbers when compared to men there are more and more challenges to face head on and they start here, in college…the place where we first leave the safety of our cocoons that we know as home life only to be welcomed to a world of passing exams, relationships, peer pressure, drugs available at every turn, and the possibility of being raped.”

  She’s definitely not holding back I see.

  “And once we finish university what do we have to look forward to? Securing housing, employment, transportation…even utilities and our home Wi-Fi getting hacked. This is the world we live in. A world where life comes at us head on, and fast. A world where we constantly are faced with choices, some of which are literally a matter of life or death. Choices. Choices. More choices. And many are terrifying especially when faced for the first time. Which leads me to…”

  She turns back to the chalkboard and writes “Old fashioned men.”

  “What’s the appeal you ask? Why would one of these dinosaurs thrive in our modern society? Simple. Imagine the pterodactyl spreading his protective wings around you and all those decisions and bad things just bouncing away, never even reaching you. He takes responsibility for everything, even things you aren’t even aware of because he doesn’t tell you. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t use Instagram to say, ‘Hey everybody look at the good thing I did and give me some social rewards for doing it.’ No, he’s not that at all. To him, the reward is in the doing, not in the recognition. The recognition cheapens the doing.”

  She pauses.

  “Imagine that millennials.”

  Holy cow.

  No wonder she’s a well-respected and well known professor. High school was basically a series of memorization tests. This is waaaaay different. This is critical thinking.

  And this is exactly what I was trying to understand, but didn’t even know it…let alone get my mind around the concept.

  Professor Magnusson just laid out the concept and directed it in…I look at my watch…under three minutes.

  That still doesn’t exactly explain what he did, nor does it offer an apology for it.

  But it does tell me he won’t be explaining it either, nor will he be apologizing.

  He’s an older man from a different time, which I always kind of knew but never on the scale of what happened yesterday.

  Yesterday was…I’m still not quite sure.

  But now I’m sure of one thing.

  That secret crush on him I’ve had the last few years is very warranted.

  He’s a real man who makes no excuses and pulls no punches. And if someone at college didn’t understand their gender role, as today’s lecture is titled, and tried to lay a hand on me? Well, I have no doubt he wouldn't hold back any punches then either.

  And the idea of him spreading his arms around me and offering me that protective shield from all the ills and harms of society suddenly sounds even more appealing.

  And not only does it help me understand him a little better.

  It helps me understand myself…and why I’m so damn attracted to him.

  CHAPTER 5

  Julian

  I hit the button and the passenger side window in my Mustang slides halfway down.

  The first of the students in her class exit the building and I keep an eye out for her.

  “And…there…she…is,” I say right when I see her exit the building.

  My cock hardens instantly. Damn, she looks so incredibly good.

  No dress today. Just hip hugging jeans that show off that bubble butt of hers and those athletic thighs. And that tight white top.

  Are you kidding me?

  Her face still looks so young and innocent, but that body is screaming the opposite.

  Damn she grew up in a hurry. I remember helping her dad hang that tire swing in the backyard like it was just yesterday.

  She’ll have to walk right this way to get to the sidewalk so I’ll catch her attention in just a second now.

  Or more.

  Seems something has caught her attention. Or someone.

  Hell no.

  I’m out of the car and on my way to her immediately. The door’s still open because I’m not going to be long.

  Just get her and go. A quick extraction and get her the hell out of here.

  I’d use the police car except I’m off duty and cops aren’t allowed on campus anyways.

  The cop car would let these clowns know just how serious I am about this. And they are clowns.

  “Hey!”

  Her head turns ninety degrees to face me as does this new friend of hers. I make a mental note to check out this new girl. I need to know who’s she’s hanging out with at all times.

  “What’s up grandpa’s ass?” I hear and realize the two boys near them were actually trying to talk to them. From my angle in the car it looked like they were having a separate conversation but they weren’t. They were trying to talk to them.

  And trying is the right word because they’re not saying another word to her. Attempt failed boys. Thanks for playing. Now beat it.

  “Let’s go,” I say, the depth of my voice causing both girls to jump and the boys to take a step back and center themselves.

  Then I see the look in their eyes and I recognize who they are and that they’ll be more than happy to have found themselves a fight if I give them one.

  And the only one happier than they are to throw blows right now is me.

  Protect and serve, Julian.

  Protect and serve…even the scum of society.

  It’s the two star football players on campus and much more importantly the ones who got off on a sexual assault last year because their damn athletic talents are more important than their character…at least to the university.

  Not me.

  And not the parents of those two girls they forced themselves on.

  They’re big corn fed boys but I don’t give a good god damn they’ve met their match today.

  Hope you ate your Wheaties, bitches.

  Abigail takes a step toward me, but one of the boys hands darts out and he grabs her by the wrist.

  You just fucked up son.

  I take two giant steps forward closing the distance between me and him and giving space between me and Abigail.

  I may look like a loose canon right now, but I’m controlled. I’m the eye of the storm and I take one last deep breath not to calm myself but for the exhale that I need to…

  Twist from the hips and explode I throw my entire body landing my forearm to his jaw dropping him like a feed sack.

  Good night, corn fed.

  His buddy grabs the arm of the other girl as Abigail shrieks and runs toward the car.

  “Let go of me!” she yells.

  “You heard the girl,” I say as I pivot on the ball of his foot and introduce his chin to my elbow making sure his nose gets a passing introduction as well.

  That’s the mistake rookie fighters make. First of all you don’t take hostages when I’m around because I will end it quickly and safely for the hostages…not for you.

  And second of all if they had tried to punch me, as boys always do, they would have thrown fists.

  Amateur hour.

  The forearm is much thicker, stronger, and can dish
out way more pain.

  As the two boys who are out cold have just learned.

  “In the car,” I tell the other girl and she takes off after Abigail.

  They’re in the back seat before I even walk back to the driver’s seat.

  I peal out as kids takes stupid camera shots of me leaving. No doubt this will get reported once they run my plate number.

  And it’s also no doubt I’m not leaving Abigail’s safety up to the campus cops.

  What if I wasn’t here?

  Does Abigail even know who those boys are? What their history says about them? Some people deserve second chances and some people don’t.

  Those pricks already got theirs and it’s obvious they didn’t learn a damn thing.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Courtney Washington,” the girl says.

  I’ll run her record and call her parents later to let them know what happened…as a citizen to citizen responsibility.

  “What are you doing?” Abigail says from the back seat.

  “Where do you live Courtney?”

  “Off campus. Washington Street.”

  “Number?”

  “1844”

  I pull up a picture of the map in my mind and make a hard right at the intersection.

  “I’m taking you there. And if anybody asks you where you live don’t tell them Washington Street. Give them a landmark that’s not in eyeshot of your home. Courtney Washington on Washington Street is way to easy for anyone to remember. You don’t want people to know where you live. Keep that information to yourself. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Her eyes scan the car nervously.

  “And don’t get into stranger’s cars. Anyone. Not even me.”

  “Who are you?” her voice trembles.

  “It’s okay. I know him,” Abigail says from the back. “I think.”

  Courtney’s got the door open and flying towards the front door of her apartment before the Mustang is even completely stopped. It’s not like I can tell her to file a police report on what happened anyways. The worse those boys could get charged with is likely assault as they grabbed her wrist and detained her, but not long enough for it to count as much in the eyes of the law. I made sure of that myself.

  I get out of the car and walk around shutting the door.

  I’m back in the driver’s seat and on my way to Abigail’s off campus housing a second later.

  “Those guys were huge,” she says. “They’re going to be professional football players in a few months when they graduate.”

  “Not anymore,” I say.

  “What’s gotten into you?” she asks.

  You. You’ve completely consumed my thoughts and my entire being and I will have you all for my own one day very soon.

  “You need to be more careful,” I say.

  “Careful? I was standing in front of my lecture hall in the middle of the morning.

  “Trouble doesn’t give a warning before it strikes. Remember that,” I say.

  “Why don’t you ask me instead of telling me?” she says.

  Now we’re talking. She’s getting tough and I like that.

  “You think those boys would ask you what you thought if they had you pinned down and gagged in the upstairs bedroom of a loud house party?”

  She doesn’t reply.

  “Huh?”

  “No.”

  “That’s right. And I know damn well you’re not that kind of girl to put yourself in that kind of position but guys will try anything. They’ll slip something in your drink. They’ll use innocent pretenses to get you alone. I see that crap all the time and it drives me crazy.”

  A moment passes.

  “Those two boys. They’re four years older than you. Seniors. And they outweigh you by well over a hundred pounds each. And they have records…long records. But the school does everything it can to keep anyone from finding out because they bring the school so much money. It’s disgusting. And I’m not going to let anything disgusting, or anything at all for that matter, happen to you.”

  I roll to a stop in front of her house. That was fast.

  “You want to be a lawyer right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do me, and all of society, a favor and get up there and figure out a way to prosecute guys like that without plea margins and money involved. Got it?”

  “Okay,” she says. Her tone has calmed now that she knows my intentions are good. My intentions are always good, except for the bad things I want to do to her.

  I run around the side of the car and open the door for her and help her out of the bucket seat in the back.

  She takes a step towards her house and stops. She turns her head around. “Mr. Armstrong.”

  “Call me Julian. You’re an adult now.”

  The slightest of smiles cracks her lips. “Ju…lian.” She’s so well mannered and after all these years she almost can’t say it. She so used to being respectful to elders. Damn, this girl is a gem.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “Don’t thank me. Have dinner with me.”

  “Dinner?”

  “You need food to fuel that incredible brain of yours.”

  She smiles.

  “I’ve heard about your academic achievements from your old man. I know you’re sharp as a tack.”

  “Not exactly, I just—“

  “I’ll be here at seven. When you see me pull up come out. Not before. Understand.”

  “Okay.”

  I turn and go back to the car. I pull on the handle.

  “Mr. Armstrong. I mean Julian.”

  “Yes.”

  “Does that mean we’ll be out after sunset?”

  “You’ll be with me. You’ll be safe.”

  “Okay. I do feel safe when I’m with you.”

  “And wear your hair up,” I say as I slide into the driver’s seat and pull away before I do something I’ll really regret.

  CHAPTER 6

  Abigail

  “Was that that cop again?” Katie asks as I walk into the house and see she’s got her face pressed up against the window.

  I ignore her.

  “Oh my god, Abs. It’s all over social media already. He dropped Chad and Keith like they were nothing. Nothing! Those two are huge. Massive.”

  I pivot on my foot changing my direction from the kitchen to my room. I really don’t want to talk about this right now.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “Fine. Thanks,” I say as I bound up the stairs. “I’ll be in my room studying. Alone.”

  Three seconds later my door is locked and I find myself on my bed again reliving what just happened all over again in my mind.

  I really didn’t like the way those guys were talking to us. Their language was rude, crude, and uncalled for.

  It’s like they could just come up to any girl they want and basically tell them that they’re god’s gift to women and that we should get on their knees and well…

  And then Julian came out of nowhere. Literally out of nowhere and saved us from the embarrassment and possibly a lot worse.

  But there’s no way he just happened to be at the right place at the right time like that.

  Only campus cops are allowed on campus and he had his regular car and not his patrol car.

  Was he waiting on me?

  Why?

  And do I really want somebody basically standing over my shoulder all the time fighting all my battles for me? I mean that wasn’t technically even a battle to be fought. It was just a couple jerks trying to talk to some freshman girls.

  Then I remember what he said. I reach for my phone and Google their names. Nothing but a bunch of sports accolades and praise.

  I keep scrolling through the results and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling.

  Nothing. But that doesn’t mean anything. Julian would have access to information that other people wouldn’t.