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Authors: Cynthia Sax

Legal Beagle

BOOK: Legal Beagle
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Protect and Serve: Legal Beagle

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011

ISBN: 978-1-60521-641-6
Formats Available:
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Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1046
Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046
www.ChangelingPress.com
 
Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

 

 

 

 

Adult Sexual Content

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Protect and Serve: Legal Beagle

 

Sniffing out the bad guys, one ass at a time.

 

My name is Officer Wright. I’m genetically enhanced as one of the city’s finest, and a normal day for me involves plugging liquid sunshine into rogue vamps, tagging and bagging renegade werewolves, and putting the fear of the badge into all criminals.

 

But these are not normal days. While my partner takes a leave of absence to bang his bunny, I’m stuck on babysitting duty. Yeah, stop laughing. It would be more humorous except the chick I’m tailing is a hot little beagle-shifting judge, and when she takes the bench, believe me, my whole body comes to order.

 

 

 

 

01 Sadie’s Blog

 

I smell him as soon as he enters the stairwell -- the sharp suffocating smell of malice filling the space. It is one of Poe’s vamp goons; it has to be, sent to influence my decision. He’ll try to scare me with threats, tempt me with offers of riches and --

And a ball? Does he have a ball? A ball? Does he have one?

Quiet
. I hush my excitable inner beagle as I hurry down the stairs, my heels ringing on the cement steps. Poe won’t influence me, not even with a room full of bouncing balls.

Ball!

Quiet
. I didn’t earn my place as a high court judge by taking bribes, bending to intimidation, or listening to the animal I share a body with. I snagged the dangerous black robes because I can sniff out the truth.

I may have sniffed up my last ass this time though. The cracking of knuckles echoes, as loud as gunshots. This goon, unlike the slick talker sent before him, plans to influence with his fists.

I may not be a supermodel, but I do like my face arranged the way it is, thank you very much, so I increase my pace, wishing I had changed into my running shoes. Goons should really schedule appointments days in advance, ensuring that I dress appropriately.

The man is gaining on me, his heavy tread attesting to his size. I glance back, spotting a broad, ugly face peering down at me. He’s not the usual tall, thin, anemic-looking vampire. This guy must drain a cheerleading squad every night.

He won’t drain this former cheerleader. I burst through the doors to the parking level. Of course, the doughnut-eating toy-cop isn’t at his station by the stairwell. The police chief had been right about court security. It is regrettably lax.

Run! I love to run! Run!

I take my inner beagle’s advice, and double-time it toward my vehicle -- a sweet little convertible with a shiny chrome bumper that the press calls inappropriate for a judge to drive. I don’t care. I risk my life every day, putting the worst criminals in the city behind bars. I’ll drive what I like.

The stairwell door slams shut behind the goon. He’s not even attempting to be stealthy, and he’s cut the distance between us in two. I really have to work out more.

I run, moving between the parked cars. The goon runs behind me, huffing and puffing like a two pack a day smoker. For a smoker, he’s fast though, and I know he’ll catch me before I reach my car. I have no choice left but to shift as I run -- discarding my clothes and designer tote on the cement parking level floor. My body shrinks in size, my arms elongating, a tail protruding from my ass, my chin stretching into a muzzle.

Play! Let’s play! Play!

Dodging the huge vamp becomes a game. He lunges toward me, and I run between his massive legs, nipping him in the privates as I pass. He roars, clutching his man bits, his pale face twisting in rage. I bark, romp around in a circle, and bark some more. This is fun. My human side doesn’t allow me out very often.

A delectable aroma fills my finely-tuned snout.
Mate! Mate! Mate!
I yip with joy, my tongue rolling out of my mouth. I run toward the scent, my little legs working as fast as they can, with my tail wagging.
I must find my mate
.

The goon chases me. “Come here, you fucking dog,” he orders.

I’m a good dog so I obey. As I approach, he places a hand over his groin, as he’s scared of me, and he should be. I’m a wild animal, and he doesn’t know how I’ll react. I release a haunting baying sound.

Done with the dramatics, I pelt at him at top speed, my ears flopping, and at the last minute, I slide under a big maintenance truck. He reaches out to grab me.
Whack
. His thick skull connects with the metal door.

I bark at him from my position under the vehicle. When his homely face comes into view, I run around him, and bite him on the ass. He roars again, hollering something about not being trained for this, and knowing when to give up.

I turn my head, distracted, the scent of my mate growing stronger.
Mate! Mate! Mate
! Euphoria floods my body as I run. I spot big boots, my mate’s boots. I will chew on them later, marking him so all the other dogs know who he belongs to. Right now, I bark my possession.
Mine
! I jump into the air.

Big hands scoop me up. “Hey there, puppy.” He lifts me so we’re face to face, his warm human nose brushing against my cold snout.

I recognize the blue eyes brimming with humor.
Not mate. Officer Wright. Bad dog
. My human is not pleased with me.

I cower for one long heartbeat, but my enthusiasm can’t be dimmed.
Friend! Friend! Friend
! I lick the officer’s handsome face all over, thrilled and excited and thrilled. He tastes of salty human mate.

Mate
!

Not mate! Bad dog
! My human is no fun. I lick my mate some more to spite her.

“You’re a cute little puppy.” Officer Wright chuckles, his thumbs rubbing my always itchy belly. His touch feels divine.

I’m not a puppy
. I bark, pawing his chest, my nails clinking against his metal badge. I’m a full-grown beagle shifter, and I’m not cute either. I’m a dangerous animal, just like bigger dogs are. I could rip his throat out.

Instead I lick it, and he laughs, the sound low and deep and sexy, setting off a wave of intense happiness within me. I bark, telling him how ecstatic I am to see him, and I wag my tail so hard, my entire ass wiggles.

“You’re too adorable not to belong to someone.” He drapes me over his shoulder, giving me a first class view of a tight ass clothed in snug police pants. I bark my appreciation, and I breathe deeply, inhaling his wonderful, fantastic scent. “You must have a master.”

He’s my master, and I communicate that to him in short, abrupt yips, but he ignores me, opening the back door of his police cruiser.

“You stay here.” He plunks me down on the seat. I tilt my head, staring up at him, not understanding why he wants me to stay there.

He shuts the door on my face. Where is he going? I bark, jumping up on the door. Even if I had hands, instead of paws, I couldn’t open the door as there’s no door handle. I’m trapped. I bark.

“Don’t wreck the car.” Officer Wright shakes his index finger at me, the glass separating us. I don’t like being separated from my mate, and I howl. “If you chew the seats, Drake will have my ass.”

I watch the magnificent ass he referred to walk away.
Bad mate
, I bark at him. He doesn’t turn around.
I will chew your seats
, I warn him. He doesn’t slow down, an arrogant swagger in his gait.

I am a beagle of my word. I nip at the seat, and it tastes good so I chew on it some more.

 

 

 

 

02 Wright’s Blog

 

Damn Drake and his pussy leave. I stomp through the parking level, disgusted that I, one of the city’s finest, am reduced to babysitting duty because my partner needs a week off to bang his bunny.

Sure, the lady judge I’m protecting is a hot piece of ass, with her small, slim form, shapely legs, and the knowledge of a woman reflecting in her big, brown eyes, but it is still demeaning, waiting to escort her between the court house and her home, invisible and unappreciated. I’m a cop, damn it, genetically enhanced to protect and serve, not follow some chick around town as she does her grocery shopping.

The memory of how Judge Sadie touched, squeezed, and sniffed her luscious red tomatoes makes my cock harden. God, I have to get laid and soon, preferably before I escort her to tomorrow night’s yoga class. Damn yoga pants designers.

I traverse the maze of cars, looking for the owner of my newly acquired puppy. I see people, but no one searching for an animal, and I don’t volunteer the information because there are some real sick bastards in the world, and I don’t want any of them touching my dog.

Fuck. She is
not
my dog. I might be a bit lonely, what with that asshole Drake pairing up, and my friend Sarge busy with his new partner, but my loneliness won’t be cured with a puppy.

Though she
is
adorable.

My boot connects with a solid object, and a stiletto heel skids across the cement. What the fuck? I hunch down, bracing myself, expecting to see a body, as parking levels are damn dangerous places.

What I see is a pile of clothes. I pull on the pair of plastic gloves I keep in my pocket for fun moments like these, and I sift through the evidence. There’s an expensive black designer blazer, a sky blue blouse, a black slim suit, and a silk bra and panty set in fuck-me red.

With the city seething with shifters, the clothes don’t worry me, but the lack of purse or wallet sets off my cop sensors. No chick goes anywhere without some cash.

Despite the brain-sucking boredom, I’m not thrilled about the possibility some sexy dressing female is MIA. The dating pool is shallow enough as it is, and we can’t afford to lose any hotties.

I stalk back to the patrol car to call the crime in and I find another piece of evidence, a sexy naked piece stashed in the backseat. Judge Sadie, the woman the boys at the precinct call Judge Sadist, has her perky breasts flattened against the window as she attempts to bust out.

She can’t bust out, the glass reinforced to withstand attacks by paranormals. I grin as I contemplate this new development. Drake, that asshole, may call me a fucking idiot, but I’m not, not truly, and I put two and two together to get a very arousing sixty-nine. I put a beagle in the backseat. I find a pile of clothes on the parking level. I return to find a naked judge in my car. My judge is a beagle shifter.

I fold my arms, leaning against another vehicle, and watch her struggle, enjoying the show. She tries different angles with no luck, and her plush mouth rounds. She’s cursing me out, her face rosy, her fists pounding the demon-proof glass. I imagine her moving lips wrapped around my full erect cock.

Not many women can take all of me as I’ve been genetically enhanced all over. I adjust my belt, my hardening cock pressing into the teeth of my zipper. I’m thinking Judge Sexy can though, especially with the way she is yelling. She’d suck my giant dick into her hot mouth, and work me over like a bone, bathing my cockhead with her wet, sloppy beagle tongue.

Fuck
. That tongue would feel nice licking between my balls.

My naked judge changes positions, trying to kick the window in, the soles of her tiny feet pressed against the glass, her hips raised, giving me a great view of a finely groomed mons. As I expected, with Sadie, the carpet matches the drapes -- her short cunt hair the same reddish-brown as the hair on her head. She is who she is, and fuck everyone else.

Hot damn. She’d be wild in bed. Her ass jiggles as she thrashes about, and I add that toned rump to my list of Sadie body parts to explore. Before the night is through, I’ll slide my cock between her nut-cracking cheeks, and fuck her tight asshole.

When Sadie finally quiets, which takes a while as my judge is a bundle of energy, I retrieve a navy blue blanket from the trunk, and unroll the back window far enough to stuff it in.

I prefer my judge naked, she’s a beautiful sight, but if the media snaps a photo, the perps gunning for her, and they number in the thousands, will force her out of her job. Although we may make jokes about Judge Sadist being a ball buster, she has the respect of the boys in blue, and we’ll protect her.

I’ll protect her… personally.

I seat myself behind the wheel, Judge Sadie’s irate words flowing over me.

“You bastard! You let me out of here right away.” She thumps her hand against the cage. “I’m a high court judge, not a --”

“You’re a naked high court judge.” I meet her gaze in the rearview mirror, and grin. “You have a splendid set of tits, Sadie, my girl.”

Her face flushes dark red, and she pulls the blanket tighter around her slim body. “I wouldn’t be naked if you had escorted me the way you’re supposed to. You’re no better than Larry, the rent-a-cop.”

She compares me to that useless excuse for a security guard? “What are you talking about?” I turn my head, and it is then that I see the damage to the seat, the cushion stuffing pulled out, the covering ripped to pieces. Drake will be pissed.

“You’d know what I was talking about if you did your job.” Sadie continues to tear me a new one, using her judgment of doom voice. I find it sexy when she uses it on perps, not so much when it is applied to myself.

“Tell. Me. What. Happened.” I’m one insult away from yelling.

Her bottom lip curls, tempting me to suck on it. “One of Poe’s vamps was after me, that’s what happened, and I shifted to escape him, no thanks to you.” She sighs, her chest heaving. “Just get my stuff and take me home.” She rubs her forehead. “It’s been a long day.”

It’ll be a longer damn day for all of us.
Fuck
. I slap the steering wheel. She had been running from the vamps. I nearly fucked the dog on this assignment, and got her killed. “Where’d you stash your tote, Sadie?” I ask, knowing the answer.

“That’s Judge Sadie to you.” She sniffs haughtily, threading her fingers through her mussed reddish-brown hair. “It should be with my clothes.”

“It wasn’t.” That damn vamp must have taken it. “Which means that someone, anyone, has your house keys, and can use them at anytime, when you’re in the shower, while you’re sleeping, anytime.” I spell it out for her.

I might have been too explicit, because her face drains of all color. “I’ll change my locks.”

“That won’t happen tonight.” I start the car, not bothering to fetch her clothes. I’ll buy her another pair of fuck-me red panties, a skimpy G-string to tug between those tight ass cheeks while I suck on her splendid tits. My priority is to get her to safety, and the safest place I know is underneath me in bed. “I’m taking you to my house, Sadie.”

She opens her mouth to protest.

“Quiet,” I command. “I’m taking you home, and fucking some sense into you. Then tomorrow, we’ll change your locks.” I pull the car out of the parking spot.

“You’re too young,” she mumbles, gazing mournfully out of the window.

This isn’t an outright no. I lower the window a crack, and her lips curl upward as the breeze hits her face. “I’m old enough to satisfy you.”

 

BOOK: Legal Beagle
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