Hot Cop Novels & Stories

The cop finally stands in front of us. I'm so angry right now at Ashar's stubbornness that I ignore the fear-feeling in my heart. I want to show my resistance to Ashar that I'm not going to fall for his fake acting. "Yes." I answer. "What's the problem?" The middle-aged, dark haired cop asks looking at me, then Ashar. "Hello, sir." Ashar greets him in a casual tone. I look at him in incredulity. He doesn't even look slightest bit intimidated.

The cop shifted into his seat, though dressed in a casual trouser and a button down white shirt for he was an inspector- undercover cop as mentioned in his identity card he'd shown him when he arrived. He moved forward and stared at him judging him to scare him and asked "Did you skip off human trafficking, drug dealing, skin selling by mistake or you are purposely hiding it from me." "Have you lost your mind? What are you saying?" Edwin roared, "Never in least thoughts would I do any of these businesses. "Nice facade Mr. Edwin I should say. Why don't you try Hollywood? You'll give tough competition to Robert Pattison or Tom Cruise" he said sarcastically.

Every headline mentioned my dad. "BRAVE COP DIES AFTER SAVING A PREGNANT LADY FROM A BANK ROBBERY" "FEARLESS COP JOSH WALKER DIES A TRAGIC DEATH" "A COP FOR THE RESCUE DIES FROM A BANK ROBBERY"

His nails dug into my shoulder and hip as his hand started to snake up my side. “Hey…I believe the girl asked you to stop.” My eyes had closed, letting the tears fall, resigning myself to what was about to happen. Now, they were open as I looked at a hand on Nate’s shoulder. Behind him was the cop I had met when I first went to see Charles, though he was in regular clothes now. He had taken the footage from our cameras to check to see that no underage kids had made it into the bar. I never had caught his name but he seemed to recognize me as well. His eyes also took in Nate but he didn’t back down, his hand still firmly gripping his shoulder.

“And now you’re threatening me? You think if I stop covering for you, you’ll just walk free? You think I’d be the only one punished?” Kosta laughed, dark, slow, arrogant. “I’ll still be out of jail, Mikey. I’m not the beloved, squeaky-clean mayor with a public image to protect. Me? I’ve got nothing to lose. Besides…” his tone dropped into something dangerous, almost amused, “the New York Chief of Police still has my back.” My blood ran cold. The Chief of Police. That corrupt bastard. Of course. That’s how Kosta kept slipping through the cracks in New York. That’s how his messes got cleaned up without a trace. He had backup on the inside.

They haul me up, my belly scraping across the bricks, until I’m dumped on the tarpaper. I look up at my antagonists, shielding my eyes against the lowering sun pouring through tattered cloud cover on the horizon. It takes a second to register, but I’m looking at a heavyset Caucasian with a bald spot in a blue windbreaker and khakis and a young Chinese guy in a motorcycle jacket and jeans. Benny Chen, ironically one of the only Chinese cops working the Fifth Precinct. I’ve seen him with Joe on a couple of occasions. “Benny? What the hell? And who’s this asshole?”

he laughed, “I deserved this one though.” “Hot shot. You didn’t even get her number.” Leo winked at her, “Next time.” God, even his wink was sexy as fuck. The officer approached the car and knocked on the window. Leo was back to the respectable, high class professional, as he called the cop sir, and was super polite. The cop wasn’t the dick type on a power trip. But what the fuck dude, when he realized who Leo was after he ran him through the system, he let his ass off with a fucking warning! What the shit? Just how big of a deal were the Clemontes in this city anyway?

The vinyl was cold. "Coffee," Cody said. "Regular or decaf?" "Black." "You look like hell," she said. She poured it into a thick mug. "It’s a long night." "The rain sucks. My roof is leaking. Landlord’s a bum." "They’re all bums." She stopped wiping. "You a cop?" "Does it matter?" "You have the look. Like a funeral." "I’m a detective. I'm finishing a case." "Catch the guy?" "Not yet."

the shortest cop with the graying beard announces with what I presume is a loaded pistol at the side of his hip. I don't make any sudden moves. Or speak. I'm not supposed to intervene. Right? But, homicide? Dom murdered someone? Who? What the heck is happening? Two of the men stand closer to the table. One of them is already cuffing Dominico. The shorter cop, the one who seems to be in charge, is monotonously reminding Dominico of his rights. “A-Aspetta!” [Wait!] I struggle to keep still, pushing down the impulse to scream and run towards Dom.

Was thаt ѕоmеthіng to dо wіth nоt wаntіng mе tо ѕtау, оr does hе just wаnt mе аnd mу nosy ԛuеѕtіоnѕ аbоut the саѕе оut оf hіѕ wау? Mоѕt cops hаtе reporters, аnd thаt’ѕ bесаuѕе wе make thеm accountable fоr thеіr actions. Thеrе’ѕ nо wау I’m gоіng tо let thе NYPD gеt аwау wіth ѕасrіfісіng a witness for the gооd оf a bіggеr саѕе. Thаt ѕtuff may mаkе sense tо thеm, but I’ll tеll thе wоrld іf thеу put Aрrіl іn a single bіt оf unnес еѕѕаrу dаngеr.