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Chapters (37)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copper Script
  3. CHAPTER ONE
  4. CHAPTER ONE
  5. CHAPTER TWO
  6. CHAPTER TWO
  7. CHAPTER THREE
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FOUR
  11. CHAPTER FIVE
  12. CHAPTER FIVE
  13. CHAPTER SIX
  14. CHAPTER SIX
  15. CHAPTER SEVEN
  16. CHAPTER SEVEN
  17. CHAPTER EIGHT
  18. CHAPTER EIGHT
  19. CHAPTER NINE
  20. CHAPTER NINE
  21. CHAPTER TEN
  22. CHAPTER TEN
  23. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  24. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  25. CHAPTER TWELVE
  26. CHAPTER TWELVE
  27. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  28. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  29. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  30. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  31. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  32. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  33. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  34. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  35. Author’s Notes
  36. About the Author
  37. Also By KJ Charles

Well, Joel had managed to ruin a perfectly lovely interlude very effectively. He glared at his side view of Aaron’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said again. “Do you want me to go?”

He did, actually. He wanted Aaron to piss off and leave him alone with his humiliation at having made and voiced a silly assumption. And Aaron doubtless knew it because the tension was back in his tone, and Joel could tell him to piss off now and he’d leave and never come back. And then at least Joel would be able to tell himself he’d told Aaron to piss off, rather than being rejected, which would make all the difference.

Grow up, you ridiculous child.

“Ah, not yet,” he said. “I’m too comfortable. You make a good pillow.”

“Pillow?”

“A very manly sort of pillow. Full of muscles. It’s like lying on a sack of walnuts, actually, not comfortable at all.”

“All right, all right,” Aaron muttered, and Joel felt him relax a fraction. “You’re remarkably easygoing.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a stroppy bitch.”

“Also that. I meant—well, thank you for understanding my position.”

“Oh, well. Better to take what you can get and enjoy it than sulk because there’s not more.”

Aaron’s arm tightened. “That’s not right.”

“It’s how it is. You know that as well as I do, Mr. Detective Sergeant.”

“Yes.” Pause. “I suppose you think I’m hell’s own hypocrite.”

Joel attempted a shrug. “You’re hardly the only one. I know a lad who services a High Court Judge weekly. He dresses up in a garter belt and stockings—the judge, not the lad—and gets spanked. Then he sods off back to the Bench and sentences people.”

Aaron exhaled long and hard. “It’s contemptible. I know.”

“A bit, but what’s the option? And anyway, this country runs on hypocrisy like a motor-car on petrol. I don’t see why you have to be better than anyone else.”

“Because I’ve taken on a job that involves enforcing the law on other people. You can’t justifiably do that and break them in your spare time.”

“Bad laws ought to be broken,” Joel said. “First, because obeying bad laws is a mug’s game, and second, because if nobody breaks them, why would anyone see the need to change them?”

“Change?”

“If enough people say I’m not doing it your way, they’ll sodding have to change it, won’t they? It’s like you said about the police. If people stop agreeing to be ruled, the authorities have a problem.”

“That’s true, but—”