Hard for Justice: A Passionate Romance

By Marianne Lowe

Jasmine keeps getting pulled over by Officer Leon Holst. What’s his deal, anyway?
And everytime they run into each other, the sparks between them are almost impossible to escape

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marianne Lowe
• Release date: Jul 8, 2020

Book preview

Marianne Lowe

Hard for Justice

Copyright © 2020 by Marianne Lowe

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

First edition

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

About the Author

Also by Marianne Lowe

Chapter 1

Chapter Separator

The first time, she had totally been at fault. She was running late to work and she was absolutely speeding, so it was understandable that she hadn’t seen the cop hiding behind the brush on his motorcycle. When he peeled out of his hiding place to pursue her, she had groaned but immediately pulled over, always scared of risking her green card if she was found to be noncompliant with the law.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach when she saw him stand up from his motorcycle and saunter purposefully towards her side of the car. That was a big cop. She had a passing thought that he couldn’t be given a squad car because his massive, broad frame probably didn’t fit. He would have been more comfortable kneeling beside her car door rather than how he had had to contort his body to lean down to peer at her through her window.

The visor was still down on his helmet, his voice coming out garbled and almost mechanical as he requested her license and registration. She…she should not be thinking about how sexy his voice sounded even like that when there were more pressing matters at hand. She didn’t even know what his face looked like, she couldn’t see an inch of skin. She needed to get a grip and focus.

She’d handed over her credentials and sat there nervously, hands on the wheel like a good, law abiding girl. She watched in her side mirror as he walked back to his motorcycle, definitely not staring at his pleasantly plump arse. She tried to ignore how sexy he was, sitting only half on the black bike as he spoke into his radio to run her information. One impossibly long leg was extended out to keep himself supported while the other rested on the footpeg, knee curled up with her credentials resting atop a well-muscled thigh. His arms bulged beneath his leather jacket and she wondered how they found one to fit his gorgeously broad shoulders.

She held her breath as he reapproached. Damnit, that was a ticket in his hands. In his large hands, with those long fingers, encased in black leather…she needed to get to work fast so she could get her mind someplace clean.

She nodded along appropriately as he told her to be careful and slow down, their fingers just barely grazing as she took her things from him. A shiver passed through her at that facade of contact and she had to bite her lip. She thanked him (or at least she hoped that was what she managed to mutter) and watched as he retreated through her mirror.

She looked down at the ticket, eyes immediately targeting the name of the cop:

Officer Leon Holst.

* * *

The second time he pulled her over, he’d been minding his own business, casually driving along the highway. Motorcycle cops were pretty rare in town, preferring to stick to the more open roads, and he would rather be on a motorcycle instead of a squad car that would confine his movements.

Leon Holst knew he was a big guy. His shoulders were broad and he had to have his patrol uniform altered in order to have a comfortable full range of movement.

She’d zipped right past him in the fast lane, the light of a cell phone LED catching his attention. Texting was illegal in this state—everyone knew that. There’d been many a news story questioning citizens and what they thought of the law. Many people interviewed—mostly old people—were glad for the ban, while the younger generation bitched and moaned about how unfair it was and that they could multitask. Tell that to the kid that literally walked out into traffic while texting and got hit by a bus. Needless to say, the law didn’t change.

So when Leon Holst saw a little rust bucket bolting down the highway with a distracted driver, he followed her, flicking on the lights of his motorcycle until she’d slowed down and pulled over.

That car looked vaguely familiar, he thought as he walked closer, his footsteps crunching on the gravel that seemed to rest along the margins of every highway road. He kept his helmet on, as he always did, lifting a gloved hand to rap against the window until she opened it.

He was met with a modicum of surprise when he saw that girl again. The one from before, and as he asked for her license and proof of insurance, her name popped into his head. Jasmine Niima. Her driver’s license photo was pretty standard—who took good pictures on those anyway?—but in person, she was incredibly sexy.

You do know that texting while driving in this state is illegal, right, ma’am? he asked around his visor.

Oh. Um. Yes, I do, she stammered, uncertain. She gestured to the phone sitting on the passenger seat. I was just checking my GPS. I swear I wasn’t texting or anything. I could show you?

Would you, please? He answered, voice apathetic. He didn’t really care one way or the other, but he’d seen the light and he had a job to do.

She grappled for her phone, heart hammering as she realized that the first thing that was open on her phone was a text to her friend which said, fuck, I’m getting pulled over, again!!!!!! It’s the SAME ONE!!!!!! But she knew that she didn’t have the moment to close that so she just handed her phone over, face bright pink with embarrassment.

Taking the phone from her, he rolled his eyes, still hidden behind the visor of his helmet. He glanced at the timestamp on the text, seeing that it was sent just a minute ago. Well, she obviously hadn’t sent that until he’d pulled her over. He scrolled up to the last text, raising an eyebrow when he realized it was some private message about how much she wanted to bang some guy. The timestamp read it’d been sent an hour ago, so he legally couldn’t charge her with anything.

He handed back her phone without a word, taking her license and insurance information back to radio it in.

Jasmine looked at her phone, heart hammering. Oh shit , he had read the text she’d sent Colby. But it didn’t seem like he scrolled up too far, so he probably…hopefully…hadn’t put two and two together that the man she wanted to shag was this very officer. So what if Colby had been teasing her relentlessly about it ever since he caught her moaning a bit too loudly? So what if her life was so dull that she had to resort to masturbating to the thought of the cop who had cost her a few hundred dollars? Whatever. Now that would definitely stop, especially since he was about to cost her another few hundred more.

He listened as the operator on the other line ran her information, coming back to give her the all-clear. Stalking back to her car, he paused, eyeing the back of it for a second. He pulled the ticket pad off his belt and clicked his pen, scribbling quickly into the little space. He ripped it off the notepad, placing her license and insurance card on top before handing it all to her. You’ve got a tail light out. Make sure you get it fixed.

Jasmine accepted her things, this time making absolute certain that they did not touch at all. Yes, sir. I will, sir.

Luckily the ticket he’d given her wasn’t a real one, just a warning to get her tail light repaired. She’d figure that out eventually, though. He wasn’t going to put it into the computer or worry anymore about it if he could help it. Those hazel eyes of hers seared themselves behind his eyes and as he went to sit back on his motorcycle, he took his helmet off for a second to adjust the strap on it and finally feel the wind against his head for all of three minutes before he went back on patrol.

* * *

Now the third time, Jasmine was positive that it was on purpose. She was trying her hardest to not speed, always warily watching the two spots he had pulled her over and sure to keep her phone down and out of sight. So when she heard that siHolst and saw the flashing lights, connected to that black bike that carried him, she immediately bristled.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so frustrating if last time she hadn’t just been given a fix-it ticket, a clear pity gesture. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so frustrating if it wasn’t just always him. And perhaps it wouldn’t have been so frustrating if she hadn’t gone home last time and still gotten off to that mysterious broad man in his motorcycle helmet with that garbled voice.

When he approached her window this time, she couldn’t hide her snark.

May I help you, Officer Holst?

I’m seeing you a lot lately, Miss Niima. I’m starting to think you’re getting into trouble on purpose, he didn’t ask for her license and insurance this time. He simply braced one hand on the edge of her window where it connected to the roof and peered down at her, his eyes hidden by the visor. Grateful she couldn’t see him, he scanned over her body, taking in the slightly skimpy clothing she was wearing on this hot summer day.

She squirmed under his scrutiny, not needing to see his eyes to feel the heat of his gaze. She was suddenly very aware that she was in a pair of jean daisy dukes and a white off-the-shoulder crop top, white and blue wedges that wrapped up her calf on her feet. The strings of her blue bikini were visible around her neck and just over the top of her shorts. She was on her way to a pool party with her friends, the first of what she had hoped would be many this summer. Typically she didn’t dress this…freely, but Rose had insisted she wear something enticing, as there were to be a lot of boys attending. And heaven knew that she needed some male attention, desperately.

I haven’t the faintest clue what you are referring to, Officer Holst. May I ask why I’ve been pulled over this time? Jasmine asked, her tone clipped.

Smirking slightly, he tilted his head at her. "You didn’t use your turn signal