A Dance Worth Dancing
by JL Long Genres: Military/Police Romance
Love is a strange thing. It can heal, it can hurt and it can be astonishing. For Rori and Colt, it's a mixture of all of these things.
Rori is a single mom who is looking for love in all the wrong places. Until one fateful night her hero comes to her without her even knowing it. She has too much at stake to risk a dance on the wild side.
Colt isn’t the type to settle down. He’s been there done that and was left high and dry. Colt’s just surviving by throwing himself into his work on S.W.A.T. and living the simple bachelor life with his best dog Tank. Or at least it was simple, before Colt’s greatest demons come back crawling to the surface.
Can they pull through when it seems like the universe is doing everything in its power to pull them apart? Can love really conquer all?
I tried to stay away from her.
No woman wants a damaged man.
The man you see is not the man I am.
You can’t see my scars; I wear them within.
You can’t see the torment that I live with every day.
I never thought I would find anyone or anything to help disperse the
pain I deal with every day.
She took my hand and showed me the light.
A light so goddamn bright; it was intoxicating and I couldn’t get
enough of her.
But, just as fast as she took my hand…
She let me go.
He walked into my life and wanted to stay.
The most beautiful man I have ever seen.
He was broken and keeping his torture hidden.
Battling his demons on his own.
I wanted to save him.
I wanted to be the one that made him whole again.
I had to make a decision.
A choice that would change my world forever.
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Copyright © by JL Long 2015
How in the fuck can one woman pack so goddamn much? Four suitcases. Four. We are only going to be gone five days and she thinks she needs to bring her whole closet. Fairly certain two suitcases are nothing but clothes, the third is full of shoes and the last is makeup. I have one bag. I repeat one bag. A change of clothes for each day and one pair of boots.
Women. I will never understand them.
It’s Tuesday, the morning we are supposed to leave. If this woman doesn’t hurry her ass up we will be lucky if we leave by noon next Tuesday.
“Rori, get your ass out here now.” I hear a pitter patter of feet and then she is standing in the living room, hair full of curlers.
“You got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What?” she asks like we have all the time in the world.
“Baby, we should be leaving right now, but,” I throw my hand out flicking it up and down indicating her, “you aren’t even close to being ready. I’m going to need you to hurry the fuck up.”
“Chill, Hercules. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
“I bet you aren’t.”
A devilish grin appears on her face. “You really want to bet?”
“Fuck, why not baby… I know I’m going to win anyways. If you are not ready to walk out that door in five minutes you have to give me road head.” I smirk right back at her.
“And if I win?”
The grin still in place she says, “You do dishes for a week.”
“Clocks ticking baby, you better hurry your sexy ass up.” No way in hell am I doing dishes for a week. I’ll let those bitches pile up and do them once.
Five minutes later on the fucking nose of the clock and still no Rori in sight. I’m a fucking winner-winner chicken dinner, now I’m really fucking fired up to get on the road. I decide to walk back to the bathroom to share my victory with Satin where I happen to find her flipping a piece of hair. Fucking hell, she looks gorgeous. If I wasn’t in a rush to get her out of the house I would bend her over that counter and fuck her. My cock hates me right now.
“You lose, Satin.”
“Shit, I’m ready, babe.”
“Deal was you have to be ready to walk out the door in five minutes. You don’t even have your shoes on.”
“Fine. I lose,” she grumbles as she scurries around me and grabs her Chucks in the hallway, slips them on, slings her purse that was sitting next to her shoes over her shoulder and hoofs it down the hall.
“Let’s go, Colt.”
She doesn’t seem too happy that she lost. Fuck, but fuck yeah I am. Not that I ever have to beg or bribe her to go down on me but winning a bet does more than make a man feel good. Especially, when you’ve got road head thrown in the equation.