I Want To Know What Love Is Read Online M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 8083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 40(@200wpm)___ 32(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
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“Well, shoot hun. Let’s get you over to your district manager. Give me a few moments.”

“Great thanks.”

“Jodi?”

“Yes?”

“This is Calvin, your district manager. I will walk you through as much as I can today and fly down tomorrow.”

“Fly down?”

“We are headquartered in Minneapolis. The regional manager position is vacant as of today as well as are most of your store’s positions. She was the person who hired you. I can probably get someone from the Baton Rouge store to help you but again that would be tomorrow.

“Okay. I understand. Can you walk me through the cash register, the alarm system, and how to roll the metal door thing down?”

“Sure,” he says and begins to give me the crash course in all things B. Dalton. “Now, you’re not going to quit on me are you?”

“Of course not. I am happy to be here.”

“I’m giving you a raise,” he says chuckling.

“Thanks. I appreciate that. My first customer. I’ll call you back if I need anything else.” He gives me his direct line before hanging up.

I can do this.

And I did. All day. No breaks, just a steady stream of customers and so many sales. I actually liked that I got to decide how to do things. I am reorganizing a book display that’s been driving me crazy all day when I feel something hard pressing into my back.

“Move. Don’t scream or I’ll shoot you,” the man’s voice says. It’s hard and unyielding as he uses what I am pretty sure is a gun to push me over to the cash register. “Empty the cash register or I’ll shoot you,” he demands, when I open it, I pull out the cash and hand it to him silently. For the first time, I get a glimpse of his face. It’s the dick that quit this morning, but I don’t let on that I remember him.

Thankfully, he leaves without another word. I can’t help the tears that are coming down my face. I pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency,” the operator says.

“I was,” I begin and of course as soon as I started talking, huge ugly sobs break out.”

“Calm down, sweetie. Tell me what happened.”

“I was robbed at gunpoint,” I sob.

“Where are you?”

“B. Dalton’s at the Pine Grove Galleria.”

“I have an officer on route, I will stay on the line with you until he gets there.”

“Thank you,” I reply numbly.

Seconds later, a really, really sexy cop runs into the store, weapon drawn. I drop the phone and put my hands up just like they do on TJ Hooker and Miami Vice. Then I hear it. I Want to Know What Love Is by Foreigner finally plays. Of course, it would play while I am staring at my sexy cop. I was scared but now? Now I am unbelievably turned on. Mega turned on.

“Officer 69 responding to the scene. No gunman on the scene will take the victim's statement,” Sexy Cop says into a walkie talkie. His Louisiana accent is pure heaven. His growly voice does things to me. “Are you alone, sugar?” he says to me. I nod. “Answer me, sugar. I want to hear your voice,” he demands.

“I’m alone. The last customer left twenty minutes ago,” I say, still nodding.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, sir.”

“Let’s lock up, and we’ll sit over here and chat, yes?” he asks. I nod again. “Words, sugar.”

“Of course, I have the keys here.”

“Very good.”

Somehow, I manage to walk over to the doors, lower the gate, then shut and lock the glass doors. Then I walk over to him. He leads me to a soft chair, and I sit.

“Now, let’s start with your name, sugar.”

I’ll never ever think of the word “sugar” the same way again.

Paul

“Jodi Hall,” my sweet, sweet angel says. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine. As soon as I walked into the store that song from Foreigner started playing. I Want To Know What Love Is. The lyrics hit me in a way they hadn’t before. It was a sign. This beautiful girl is going to be mine.

“Alright Jodi, why don’t you tell me what happened,” I say.

“Sure, Officer Lochlan,” she says, reading my badge. “I was organizing that display right there,” she says pointing behind me, “when I felt something digging into my back. I didn’t recognize the voice, but he ordered me to give him all the cash in the register. When I did, I recognized him, but I don’t know his name.” I look up from my notebook at her. She’s staring at me with such intensity that it takes me back for a second. She’s not shy. I’m ninety-nine percent sure she wants me also.

“And how is that?” I’ve heard plenty of things in my day, but this is interesting. Usually, robberies of this nature are done by complete strangers to prevent ever getting caught. I’ve been a beat cop for eleven years. The last two with this parish. I’ve had the opportunity to advance, but I like my beat. Being a Baton Rouge Parish Sheriff has its perks, one of which is that I don’t have to deal with New Orleans crime or Mardi Gras celebrations gone wrong anymore. It’s quieter here, just the way I like it.



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