Possessive Alpha Cop Read online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
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Possessive Alpha Cop

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Flora Ferrari

Language:
English
Book Information:

I might be a law-abiding girl, but I’m hungry to taste this badass alpha cop’s primal passion.
This is a week of firsts, and Marston Rivera wants to give me my first everything.
My first real job. My first kiss. My first taste of carnal obsession.
From the offset, this possessive older man wants to make me his. But I’m just trying to get on my feet after being involved in a horrible crime. My life and my passion was stolen from me. Can he bring it back?
I’m just a naïve orphan and I don’t know if I can be the woman he needs. Marston Rivera is a six foot seven silver fox, an ex-boxer, a man of means. Do I have what it takes?
I’m scared, and not just about not being good enough. I’ve been tricked in the past. It’s what led to me being part of a really messed up case in Miami. Is this silver fox the cop to finally put me to right?
Or am I destined to crash and burn? In all my eighteen years, I’ve never felt anything like what this forty-two year old alpha male makes me feel. And I’m oh-so-ready.
Books by Author:

Flora Ferrari



Chapter One

Marston

I stare down the barrel of the gun with rage surging through me like wildfire.

The man has long black hair that hangs over his eyes, so thick I’m surprised the prick can even see through it. His shirtless torso is covered in scars and tattoos and in his non-gun hand he’s holding a knife, gesturing at a puppy on the floor as though, not only will he shoot me if I try and come closer, but he’ll kill the dog, too.

“If you touch that pup,” I growl, “I’m not taking you in. I’m putting you in the ground.”

The walls of the crack den are covered in damp and the wallpaper is peeling and yellowed. A sick feeling moves through my stomach when I think about the kinds of things this man and his scumbag friends get up to here.

“Have you gone loco, old man?” the gangbanger laughs, a coked-up look to his eyes. “Just do yourself a favor and leave.”

“I’m here to arrest you, Diego. Don’t make it worse than it needs to be. You’ve already pointed your gun at a police officer.”

“You come in here, to my house, without backup and expect to arrest me?” He makes a tsk noise. “You really are a madman.”

From the hallway behind me, the men I’ve already dealt with make groaning noises, causing Diego’s face to twitch when he realizes what’s in store for him if he doesn’t come quietly. The fury in me makes my veins feel hot, as though there’s a primordial firework flaring inside of me, over and over.

“Drop your weapons,” I snap. “I won’t warn you again. You give heroin to kids. I’ve seen it. Taster bags. You don’t want to push me.”

He moves his tongue over his teeth as though searching for more powdered drugs, and then grins ear to ear. “Maybe you think you’re tough,” he says. “But nobody’s tougher than a bullet.”

He pulls the hammer back on his revolver and I nod slowly, keeping my eyes fixated on it, staring at it intently as though all my attention is aimed laser-like on it.

But the thing men like Diego don’t understand is that they’re not as smart and tough as they think they are, and they can be fooled by simple tricks.

In one sudden movement, I snap my gaze to the side as though somebody is entering through the door to his left. Time slows as I watch his eyes flitter to where I’m looking, and then his mouth drops when he realizes his mistake.

He spins back to me.

Bang.

The gunshot is deafening in the small space.

The puppy starts yapping loudly and running in circles, terrified.

The bullet hits the wall behind me and then I’m on him, surging forward like a force of nature. I grab his wrist and squeeze with the power of a vise, causing his bones to crunch and the gun to drop from his hand.

He slashes at me with the blade, making a whistling noise as it slices through the air. I duck backward and slip to the side, letting it move harmlessly past my torso, and then pull back and crunch forward with the mother of all head-butts.

“Ah,” he grunts, his knees buckling as his whole body falls like melting Jell-O to the floor.

I lean down and put my knee on his back, tucking his knife and gun into the back of my pants and then slapping the cuffs on his wrists. He moans quietly, the words lost in the general garble of his dazed state.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, reaching across for the puppy. It’s some sort of black and white sheepdog, its eyes covered in different colored fur. Its tongue hangs out and it pauses, tilting its head at me. “It’s okay. Come on. It’s all going to be okay.”

The puppy swallows its next bark and then pads slowly over to me, sniffing the ground before coming the rest of the way. It hops up on its hind legs, doing a little wiggle, and then jumps into my lap and starts licking the back of my hand.

“That’s my dog,” Diego says, finally waking up. “That’s my fucking dog.”

“And you were about to slit its throat,” I snarl, pressing my knee harder between his shoulder blades. “You’re lucky I don’t do worse. Now shut your mouth while I call for backup.”

My partner, Angelo, sits back in the cafeteria cradling a coffee that sends steam rising up around his face. He’s a short man with a carefully tailored black mustache that hugs tightly to his upper lip. His eyes are narrow and perceptive and his Hawaiian shirt is open to reveal his detective’s badge and a generous smattering of coarse black hair.

“I don’t know how you can wear suits in this heat, Marston,” he says.

I smirk, but say nothing. I take a sip of my jet black coffee and let it writhe hotly down my throat.

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