Pretty Policeman

Fifer Rose

PRETTY POLICEMAN

BY FIFER ROSE

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

References to real people, events, organizations, establishments, or places are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are also used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons – living or dead – are unintentional and coincidental.

All songs titles and lyrics mentioned herein are the property of their respective songwriters and copyright holders.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means – including information storage and retrieval systems – without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Art: Pretty Indie: Book Cover Designs

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.

“Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth

or burn down your house, you can never tell.”

-Joan Crawford

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CONTENT WARNINGS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TEASER

Content Warnings

Please be aware that this book contains crude language, instances of graphic violence, and features at least one character who touts homophobic garbage, using religion as an excuse to do so. Don’t worry, he’ll be swiftly delt with, and any hurt suffered by our main character will be followed up with a heaping helping of comfort.

Oh, this book also contains (extremely) detailed sex. But do we really need a warning for that?

CHAPTER ONE

“Quit staring.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, you are, honey, and I don’t blame you. Those shoulders go on for dayzzz.”

“I feel like you said that with a ‘z’. Possibly multiple of them.”

“Oh, I did, sweet pea. And that ass. I have one word for it: yum.”

“You literally sound like you’re drooling. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been staring, Tessa?”

“Of course, I have been!” She didn’t sound the least bit ashamed about it either. “Look at that gorgeous specimen of a man. If he’s not the offspring of some Greek god’s bastard, I will chop off my right tit.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Even as he pretended to gag over his partner’s declaration, however, Micah found his gaze – and attention – drifting back to the man they were discussing: the supposed descendent of a Greek god.

He was tall, at least a couple of inches past six feet, and the suit jacket he was wearing clung to the expanse of his impressively broad shoulders. Said shoulders tapered off to form a trim waist, under which matching pinstripe pants gripped onto thick thighs – which Micah hadn’t known he had a thing for until now.