Chapter 87: Cuffed and Stuffed by the Alpha Cop -1

Rooker Veldt slammed Tavian Ash against the wet concrete wall of the underpass and in one hard click, cuffed his two hands together.

Rain poured through the broken ceiling and soaked them both. Tavian was laughing, even with his face pressed to the cold stone.

"You finally caught me, Detective. Took you long enough."

Rooker pulled him back and spun him around. He kept his voice flat as he spoke.

"Tavian Ash, you are under arrest for multiple counts of grand theft, breaking and entering, and evasion of justice. You have the right to remain silent."

Tavian tilted his head and smiled wider.

"I never stay silent around you. You know that."

Rooker marched him out of the underpass and into the waiting transport. He shoved Tavian into the back seat and climbed in after him.

The ride to the station was quiet except for the rain and the engine. Tavian kept glancing over smiling, his scent was already starting to rise in the closed space. Rooker ignored it and stared straight ahead.

At the station Rooker processed him himself. He stripped the soaked clothes, issued the thin gray prison pants and shirt, and walked Tavian down the hall to the isolated holding cell.

He pushed him inside and locked the door. The cell held only a metal bunk, a toilet, and a single camera in the corner. Rooker stayed on the outside of the bars and opened the file in his hand.

"Sit down, we are about to start the formal interview now."

Tavian dropped onto the bunk and stretched his legs out. He looked completely at ease.

"Come inside, Rooker. The bars make it hard to talk properly."

"We can communicate fine like this. Start with the gallery job from last month."

Tavian leaned forward and rested his cuffed hands on his knees. His scent thickened in the small space, it was sweet and deliberate.

"I have a better idea. Let me tell you what I thought about every time you almost caught me."

Rooker did not look up from the file.

"I am not interested in that."

"Yes you are. You have chased me for seven years. You know my scent better than anyone. Sit down and listen."

Rooker stayed standing. Tavian kept talking anyway, voice light and warm.

"The first time you almost had me was on that rooftop in the rain. I jumped the gap and landed hard. My ankle twisted and I went down. I smelled you right behind me. I imagined you landing on top of me. Then pinning my wrists above my head and shoving my pants down right there on the wet tar. I thought about how your knot would feel pushing inside me while the rain hit my back. I came in my hand later that night thinking about it."

Rooker’s jaw tightened. He turned a page in the file.

"The gallery. Names of your buyers."

Tavian released another slow wave of pheromone. The air in the cell grew heavier.

"You always sound so cold. I like it. The second time you nearly grabbed me was in the museum basement. I heard your boots on the stairs. I hid behind the crates and stroked myself while I waited. I pictured you finding me on my knees. I wanted you to fuck my mouth first, hard and deep, until I choked. Then I wanted you to bend me over one of those crates and knot me so full I could not walk. I kept that fantasy for weeks."

Rooker closed the file and looked at him at last. His eyes stayed flat.

"Stop talking."

"Why? You came back every time. You kept hunting me. You must have thought about it too."

Tavian shifted on the bunk and spread his knees wider. The thin pants did nothing to hide the growing bulge.

"I used to lie in whatever safe house I found and work myself open with my fingers while I said your name. I imagined your cock stretching me. I imagined the exact second your knot locked behind my rim and you started pumping me full. I always came hardest when I thought about you holding me down and telling me I was done running."

Rooker stepped closer to the bars. His voice dropped lower but stayed controlled.

"You are attempting to manipulate the interview. It will not work."

Tavian smiled and let more scent pour out. The smell of aroused Omega filled the cell and drifted through the bars.

"I am not manipulating anything. I am telling you the truth. Every close call made me harder. Every time I heard your voice on a radio or smelled your cologne on a doorway I got wet. I wanted you to catch me. I wanted you to cuff me and take what you wanted."

Rooker gripped the bars with one hand. His knuckles turned white.

"Give me the names of the network that moved the paintings."

Tavian stood and walked to the bars until only the metal separated them. He kept his cuffed hands low.

"I will give you every name you want after you admit you thought about knotting me. Just once. Say it."

"No."

"Then I will keep talking."

Tavian leaned his forehead against the bars and breathed out slowly. His scent spiked again, thicker and sweeter.

"The night you cornered me in the warehouse three years ago, I almost let you take me. I was so close to dropping to my knees. I wanted your cock down my throat while you still held the gun on me. I wanted you to decide whether to arrest me or fuck me first. I jerked off in the escape tunnel later and came so hard my legs shook. I kept whispering your name while I did it."

Rooker’s breathing changed. He still did not step back. Tavian watched the line of his throat and the way his free hand stayed clenched at his side.

"You can stay cold all you want," Tavian said.

"I know what Alpha control smells like when it starts to crack. You are hard right now. I can scent it. Let me ease it for you. Unlock the door and I will get on my knees. I will take every inch and thank you for it. I have practiced for years in my head. I know exactly how to suck you until your knot swells against my tongue."

Rooker released the bars and stepped back.

"Sit down."

Tavian stayed where he was.

"Make me. Come inside and put me on the bunk yourself. Put your hand around my throat and tell me to open my mouth. I will. I have wanted it since the first time you almost touched me."

Rooker opened the cell door. He stepped inside and closed it behind him. The pheromones hit him fully.

He grabbed Tavian by the front of the shirt and shoved him down onto the bunk. Tavian landed on his back and kept smiling.

"There you are," Tavian said.

"I knew you would come in."

Rooker planted one knee on the bunk between Tavian’s spread thighs and leaned over him. He kept his voice ice cold.

"It’s either you give me those information or you sit in silence. Those are the only options."

Tavian lifted his cuffed hands and rested them against Rooker’s chest.

"Or you can put your cock in my mouth and I will talk after. I have imagined the taste of you for seven years. Let me have it. Just the tip at first. Let me lick the head while you decide how deep you want to go."

Rooker stared down at him. His pupils had blown wide. He did not move for several long seconds. Then he pushed off the bunk and stood.

"Interview is over. You are staying here overnight. Someone will move you to general holding in the morning."

Tavian sat up slowly. His smile never faded.

"No problem, I’ll be here waiting, it’s not like I can go anywhere. When you do come back I will already be wet for you. I will tell you every dirty thing I ever thought about while I waited for you to finally lock me up."

Rooker locked the cell door and walked away without answering. He made it to the end of the corridor before he stopped.

His cock strained hard against his uniform pants. The smell of Tavian’s arousal clung to his hands and his shirt.

He leaned one shoulder against the wall and closed his eyes.

Behind him, Tavian’s voice carried clearly through the quiet hall.

"I am going to touch myself thinking about your knot, Detective. I hope the camera catches every second. Come watch if you want. I will put on a good show for you."

Rooker forced himself to walk the rest of the way to the empty locker room.

He stripped the uniform shirt and threw it aside. His cock jutted out heavy and flushed.

He wrapped a fist around it and started stroking.

The memory of Tavian’s voice and the thick Omega scent flooded his head. He stroked again and bit back a sound.

He stopped himself before he finished. He cleaned up, changed into a fresh shirt, and sat on the bench with his head in his hands.

The cold mask stayed in place on his face, but his body had already answered.

He had spent seven years hunting the elusive art thief, praying for the day he would finally catch him. He just wasn’t expecting that he would make him so hard.