Officer Scott

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Motherfricker.

All I wanted to do was go home.

That's it.

But, there I was stuck in traffic. I had left work exactly an hour and twenty-seven minutes earlier. And, I had taken a route that usually made my travel time thirty-two minutes long. But, it was taking nearly three times as long as normal because of motherfucking traffic.

It wasn't like I was in a rush to get anywhere, but I was tired from work and I had a TV show on, so yeah, I wanted to get home. Plus, I had been stuck in a pencil skirt and heels all day and I just wanted to take off my makeup and clothes, take my hair down, and put on some sweatpants.

The traffic finally cleared up after a bit, so I put my foot on the accelerator and zoomed down the motorway. I wasn't going too fast, I'm not an idiot, but I was going over the speed limit. Just like, by ten miles per hour or so.

It only took three minutes for me to hear the whoop whoop of a siren. I glanced in my rearview mirror and let out an aggravated moan once I saw a police car behind me.

Well, crap.

Only more of a delay until I could get home and be lazy.

I pulled over and quickly adjusted my hair in the mirror. I wasn't going to stoop down to flirting my way out of a ticket, but I figured looking nice wouldn't hurt, right?

Oh, how wrong I was.

In the U.S, if you get pulled over by a cop, you stay in the car. And since I had only been in England for like three months, so I hadn't had the opportunity to have a brush with the law yet.

There was a tap on my window. The cop was standing right next to the door, so I couldn't see anything but his belt buckle and the top of his pants. I rolled down my window as quickly as it would go, which wasn't very quick, so it made the situation quite awkward.

"How can I help you officer?" I asked politely.

"Please step out of the vehicle." A husky, deep voice demanded. I unlocked my car door and clambered out not-so-gracefully. He motioned for me to follow him, and I did, to the other side of the vehicle. The side that was against the grass, not the motorway. I guess it was safer that way, no chance of getting hit by passing cars.

The police officer was a lot taller than I thought he would be. His full height loomed over mine easily. Brown curls were smothered by a peaking police officer's hat. I couldn't see his eyes, which were covered by aviators, but I could feel his intense gaze on me. He crossed his arms over his chest. I don't know if he planned it, or if he was unaware, but his uniform had long pants and short sleeves. Short sleeves which showed off the bulging muscles in his tattooed arms as he crossed them.

"Miss, are you aware of how fast you were going back there?" He asked me in a slowed version of the British accent I had grown accustomed to.

"Umm... not exactly."

"You were going nine miles over the speed limit." He explained. I narrowed my eyes in confusion and stared up at him. That was it? I got pulled over for that? There were people zooming passed us who were going faster than that.

"I'm sorry, sir." I apologized quickly.

My mother used to flirt her way out of parking tickets. My father used to lie his way out. My grandmother used to use the sympathy card. I learned that it was best just to keep it honest and polite. It went quicker and pissed off the cop less, meaning there was less of a chance of a ticket being administered and more of a chance of just a warning.