by Ranae Rose
“The condoms are in my top dresser drawer,” she said when he released her and stood up straight again.
Her pose was relaxed, but he could see the tension in the swimmer’s muscles beneath those curves. Her face was flushed, her lips almost ruby. She looked like she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her.
“I’ve gotta warn you,” he said, “I’ve been sweating in this uniform all day.”
He had a feeling that most women didn’t factor the sweating caused by Kevlar into their fantasies.
“I don’t care.” She gripped one of his hands and guided it to the cleft between her thighs.
Succumbing to desire, he stroked her pussy lips.
They were wetter than they’d been just minutes ago.
He had to make himself stop before he buried his fingers to the knuckles inside her.
Turning on his heel, he approached the dresser beside the bed.
The unopened box of condoms was right where she’d said it’d be, in the top dresser drawer. They rested atop an assortment of panties: cotton, satin and lace in all colors. A thrill went through him as the soft fabrics brushed his fingers.
The box was a twenty-four pack. The idea of fucking her twenty-four times hit him like lightning, making him ache from head to toe. For now, he opened it and took out just one, laying it on top of the dresser.
“I can’t keep all of this on,” he said, unbuckling his duty belt.
She rolled onto her side and propped her head on a hand, watching. Lying that way with her long hair spilling messy and damp over her shoulders, she looked like a goddess. Like Aphrodite fresh out of the sea, or however the story went.
He set the belt on her dresser, careful not to nick the wood with his service weapon, cuffs or the other hard things he carried. Then he unbuttoned his uniform shirt, feeling the weight of her gaze on his hands, button by button.
He set the shirt aside before setting to work on his vest’s Velcro fastenings, then finally removed it.
It felt good to have it off. It felt even better to peel off the moisture-wicking t-shirt he wore beneath. It was absolutely disgusting, so he tossed it into a far corner of the room. Then, because it was what she’d said she wanted, he put his uniform shirt back on.
“You don’t have to button it all the way back up.” She flashed him a sultry smile.
He left the top three undone, and then he was finally done fucking with his uniform and free to fuck with her.
He moved in and she met him with open arms, embracing him and pulling him close. If the dried sweat on his skin fazed her at all, she didn’t let it show. Right away, she had her hands and mouth all over him, stroking his chest and kissing his neck.
He buried a hand in her hair, gripped a thick fistful and pulled back until her mouth was tilted toward him.
He kissed her deep and hard, his pulse pounding in anticipation.
Then he felt the jerk of her hands at the fly of his uniform pants.
She made short work of the button and the zipper, and it was good to be free. Even better to feel her hand wrap around his shaft in a tight, hot fist.
He flexed his hips and reveled in the sudden friction until he couldn’t take it anymore.
He stilled her hand at the last second, then pried it away so he could put the condom on.
It’d been a long time, but that wasn’t what his excitement was about. It was about her, plain and simple. The sight of her tangled in her hiked-up, unzipped dress and looking up at him had him ready to burst.
“Closer,” he said, his thighs pressing against the edge of the mattress. “Closer, where I can reach you.”
He still had his boots on, and he kept them planted firmly on the ground as she slid to the edge of the bed, her legs bent and spread, right in front of him.
He groaned as he laid hands on her thighs and lifted her knees up onto his shoulders.
The position slanted her at an angle, her shoulders on the bed and her pussy just below his dick, suspended in air. He held her tight with one hand while he wrapped his other around the base of his shaft and guided the head of his cock to her folds.
He paused for a split second, giving her time to brace herself as his desire built momentum. The compulsion to be inside her snowballed, and his fingers tingled against his shaft. He flexed his hips, splitting her tender skin and delving into tight heat.
She gasped and arched against him, drawing even tighter and squeezing his dick.
He almost lost it. Gripping both her thighs now, he froze, buried to the balls inside her for a couple seconds before he pulled back and pushed in all over again.
She was everything he’d imagined, everything he’d craved: heat, pressure and just the right amount of resistance. Her body was strong yet soft in all the right places, and it yielded to the hard shaft of his cock.
She gripped fistfuls of sheets, just like he gripped her legs. The muscles in her forearms were taut, showing him just how fierce her hold was.
Her hold on his focus was even more intense: all he could see, hear, or think of was her. Her pussy pulsed every now and again, shocking him with sensation that was almost too much, too soon. And the way she looked…
Looking down at her arched up against him, draped over his shoulders with her pussy lips split around his shaft, was something he’d remember for the rest of his life. No detail would escape him, no matter how much time went by – it was a memory that’d serve on the frontlines of his fantasies.
Sound bytes punctuated the moments between each thrust: broken syllables that were something more than breath and something less than words. Some came from him, but mostly, they were hers.
Not that he was enjoying this any less than her. Hell, no. But he strove for near-silence as a test, a measure of his self-control. Because if he gave in to every urge that rushed through his lust-flooded brain, he’d be groaning and fucking her hard, coming deep inside her in a heartbeat.
This was too good to give up so fast. Maybe it was the fact that he’d ached so badly for this, or maybe it was that part of him was too jaded to believe that her interest in him would last. It didn’t matter, because either way, he wasn’t going to let himself finish before he felt her come all around his dick – before she made him.
He looked down and couldn’t look away. There wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t scream for his attention, from her dark hair to her breasts with their hard nipples, to her pussy. And that was where he let his gaze settle. Watching his cock rock in and out of her was a deeply gratifying pleasure.
Just above the sweet slit he’d filled with his shaft, her clit was swollen. Memories of how she’d squirmed and moaned when he’d plied his tongue against it hit him hard. He couldn’t do that now, but he could certainly do something.
He slid a hand down her thigh and pressed his thumb against her clit. It was as much for him as it was for her – he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wanted to feel the tremor that hit her when he touched her there, wanted to hear the hitch in her breath.
And he wasn’t disappointed.
The flaw in her breathing was quickly followed by the first words she’d spoken since he’d put himself inside her.
“I’m so close.”
“Already?”
“Yes. Harder.”
Her pussy echoed the sentiment with a quick tightening, a motion that would’ve milked him dry if it’d been followed by more.
He rubbed his thumb slowly over her clit. She didn’t have to ask twice.
He gave her what she wanted, slamming home with every thrust. The sharp sound of their bodies meeting was underscored by the bed shaking, the headboard knocking against the wall.
It was what he wanted, too. Just like that, unbelievable heat and pressure pooled at the base of his spine.
She reached up, quick as a viper, and surprised him by grabbing the hem of his uniform shirt. He barely noticed a button flying loose as she pulled, and then she cried out so loudly that the hair on the back of his nec
k stood up.
It was like being hit by lighting. Her pussy pulsed around his cock and he couldn’t temper the speed or the immediacy of his reaction. He fucked her even harder, his pace furious and unheeding of anything besides the urge to keep her keening like that and the urge to get off.
He thrust his way through a few seconds of almost painful intensity, and then a climax tore through him, numbing him to anything other than pleasure.
Pleasure so deep it radiated into his bones, erasing everything else: the strain of exertion, of fucking while standing and supporting her weight, even the pain in his mauled leg. None of it existed anymore; all his nerves there played dead as his world imploded beneath the weight of gratification.
He relished it as long as he could, barely noticing the sound of his own rushing breath, until his nerves were overtaxed and the condom suddenly felt too tight.
Pulling out was sweet agony, and he took it slow. Only when he’d fully vacated her sweet, hot body did he realize her thighs were trembling in his grip.
He eased her down slowly, surrendering her to the bed and its twisted quilt.
She rolled over onto her side and made a sound that was half sigh and half hum. He didn’t know exactly what it meant, but it sounded happy.
All he could do was breathe and ease the condom off his cock.
There was a wastebasket in one corner of the room. He tossed it there, and then he was left standing in a uniform that was wrinkled, missing buttons and dampened at the crotch.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m more than okay.” He was on top of the fucking world.
“Your leg… That had to be hard on it.” She sounded worried, but not sorry.
He stood a moment longer before sinking down onto the edge of her bed. The haze of pleasure was slowly fading, allowing him to feel the soreness in his calf. It was nothing compared to the satisfaction rolling through him.
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I would’ve gladly stood with my leg in a bear trap if that was what it took to get inside you like that.”
She laughed. “I’m not into anything that weird. Are you?”
She traced a line down his back, her fingers bumping his vertebrae and setting his nerves on edge again. “Please don’t tell me you’re into pain. I don’t think I could stomach inflicting it, and we can’t count on you getting mauled by a dog every week.”
Her tone was teasing, and so was her touch. It was strange how much he enjoyed it, after what they’d just done. For years, he’d treated sex like a business transaction: pleasure exchanged for the mutual benefit of two parties.
This was nothing like that. He liked the feeling of her hand on his back because it was hers. He’d just felt her come around his dick and he still wanted to make her feel good. He didn’t want to walk away, even though his erection was softening.
“I promise not to bring any bear traps into the bedroom. I’m not into that either, but if you wanted to maul me … well, that might be a different story.”
The mattress shifted, and he felt her weight against his back immediately before he felt her teeth on the back of his neck.
Just a light scrape, and then hot breath on his skin as she laughed.
“You tear up my skin now and I’m gonna walk out of here looking like I’ve been bested by some convict on the job – my uniform’s already in tatters.”
It was an exaggeration, but there was no denying that she’d certainly left her mark on his attire. He had a lot of washing and sewing to do before he could wear it to work again.
“I’m sorry about the buttons – I didn’t mean to pop them off. I got caught up in the moment.”
“Nothing a little thread and needle won’t fix. I just have to make it across the street before anyone notices.”
“I’ll sew them back on for you.”
He turned and arched a brow. “So you want me to leave my shirt here with you and march across the street without it?”
She giggled, then waved a hand. “It’ll only take me a few minutes. You can spare a few more minutes, can’t you?”
“I don’t guess I have much of a choice.”
She smiled.
He returned the expression, unable to help it even though reality was setting in and uncomfortable questions were churning in the back of his mind.
CHAPTER 13
Lucia put on a pot of coffee before sitting down at the kitchen table with her sewing kit. It was more for Jeremy than for her – after a day at work and the way he’d fucked her, he had to be tired.
Even if he refused to let it show, just like the soreness he had to be feeling in his leg.
Heat smoldered in her cheeks as she repaired the buttons she’d accidentally torn off his shirt – something she would’ve expected to happen in a romance novel or movie, but not in her bedroom.
He sat across from her in a black t-shirt, his vest and duty belt lying between them on the table.
“You okay?” she asked when his coffee cup had stopped steaming, and he’d all but stopped drinking.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look like something’s bothering you.”
Maybe she was prying, but she felt deliciously close to him and couldn’t just sit silently while he stared into space, worry lines running between those gorgeous blue eyes.
“Paige is upset with me.”
“Really?” It was a surprise. It was hard to imagine a sweeter girl than Paige, or a more devoted father than Jeremy.
But then, all families had their squabbles, especially during the preteen years.
He nodded, his shoulders shifting beneath an invisible weight. “She wants to go to this birthday party. A party that starts with a horror movie at the theater and ends with a ghost tour of the Wisteria Plantation House.”
Lucia arched a brow. “Whatever happened to cake and ice cream?”
He exhaled in a rough sigh. “Hell if I know.”
“I didn’t even realize they gave ghost tours at Wisteria. I was under the impression it was more upscale than that.”
“It’s a new thing. Apparently the event they put on at Halloween last year was a hit and the owner slipped down off his high horse in order to cash in. I wish he hadn’t.”
“You don’t want Paige to be scared?”
“No, I don’t. I spend enough time being scared for her. I’ve always felt torn between letting her know how ugly the world can be, for safety’s sake, and wanting to shield her from it all. I don’t see where getting scared for fun fits into any of it. Especially at her age.”
“I’m not a fan of horror movies either.”
He nodded. “I doubt the tour at Wisteria will be that scary, but I don’t like the idea of her wandering around in a public place with a bunch of kids and no supervision. Not with everything that’s been going on. Apparently the parents are letting the girls do the tour alone while they set up for cake and gifts afterward in the restaurant on the plantation grounds.”
Lucia was silent for a moment. She got what he was saying, and wouldn’t have wanted any of the girls in her swim class to wander like that, either – at least, not in light of recent events.
“Don’t you have friends who work there?” she asked, thinking back to their recent beach trip. “Alicia, Kerry and Sasha all do, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, maybe you could compromise – have Paige skip the movie, but join her friends at Wisteria. You could ask a friend to keep an eye on her during the tour.”
He seemed to consider it. “Maybe, if one of them will be there that night. I can’t be there myself because I’ll be working.”
She shrugged. “I don’t mean to tell you what to do – it’s just an idea.”
“No, I appreciate it. I can’t help but feel like shit, telling her no, even if I know it’s right. I don’t want her to think of me as just some ass who keeps her from her friends.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t think you’re an ass.”
> He met her eyes, a glimmer of wryness there. “Don’t all kids that age think that about their parents? And there’s just the one of me, so I worry she’ll think I’m twice the ass.”
“She doesn’t think you’re an ass; it’s obvious she loves you. Trust me, I know how to read teen girls.”
A smile flickered around one corner of his mouth, but his eyes still looked worried.
“Her grandma spoils her, and I seem like a hardass in comparison. But I can’t complain – Christ knows she deserves some spoiling, and I can’t give it to her.”
Lucia tilted her head. Why did he think that? “I don’t think you’re quite as strict and stern as you imagine. I never got that impression, seeing you with Paige.”
He shrugged. “I get so caught up in worrying about her, sometimes, that I forget about letting her have fun. I don’t want that to be someone else’s responsibility, while I enforce all the rules.”
“Does your job make it hard to make time for fun stuff with Paige?” A pang of guilt hit Lucia. If that was the case, then she’d be infringing on what little time he had to spend with his daughter.
Slowly, he shook his head. “It’s not that. I’ve booked a lot of overtime, but there’s still enough left over. The real problem is that I’m just not fun. Think I forgot how to be, God knows how many years ago.”
“Oh, come on, that’s not true – you’re plenty of fun.”
His gaze focused to laser intensity, locking with hers. “Name one fun thing we’ve done, or you’ve seen me do.” He tipped his head toward her bedroom. “What just happened back there doesn’t count.”
“Easy. There was the beach trip this past weekend.”
“Yeah, I was a real barrel of laughs, sitting there on a blanket shoveling down fried chicken and trying to pretend I wasn’t noticing the way you filled out that bikini.”
Her cheeks warmed. “You couldn’t have helped that, with your injured leg. Stop beating yourself up – you’re fun, and I know it. You’ve just been so immersed in raising Paige for so long that you can’t see how good of a job you’re doing. Take it from someone objective, who deals with girls her age regularly: you’re a fantastic dad.”
