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“Door, Delilah. Now.” She finally takes ahold of the knob, twists it, and it opens without so much as making a noise. I do one last glance around us, my left, my right, and even behind me. My head is usually on a swivel, always on alert when I need to be, but when Delilah is like this, it’s damn hard.
“Now, please stop teasing me.” I slip one finger inside her tightness as we make it inside. Sadly, I have to take my hand off her tit in order to shut and lock the door without it slamming.
“Quiet, baby,” I tell her, using the palm of my hand on the door to close it, sliding down the length of it while taking her mouth with mine. I don’t stop until I feel the latch on the handle, flicking it in the upwards position to lock, and then we’re locked inside the dark room.
“I’m not sure I can,” she says, pulling away from my lips, going to my throat, nipping at the skin with her teeth.
“Fuck, I want to watch as you fall apart on my fingers,” I groan, adding another digit inside her cunt. I flip the switch next to her head, and the bright fluorescent light shows me every delicate feature of the woman I love.
“Yes, Fletch, more.” I lift her thigh over my own, spreading her open.
“You’re going to come, hard and fast. Lift your dress, let me watch as I finger-fuck your pussy.” After a brief moment of me no longer sliding in and out of her heat but instead holding steady, she does as I want. “You’re beautiful, Delilah, and you’re all mine.” I pick up my pace, pulling out before pushing back in, my thumb pressing on her clit as the tips of my fingers move back and forth, and it’s everything Delilah needs and more.
“Fletch.” I do the only thing possible to keep others from hearing her come apart for me. I kiss her like my life depends on it, like she’s my air to breathe and the blood running through my veins.
“Anyone seen Fletch? We gotta rock and roll, buttholes,” Wyatt says outside, and with how close his voice is carrying, I’d bet my damn paycheck he’s standing right outside the door. I swear to Christ if this motherfucker so much as jingles the handle, I’m going to come unglued.
Delilah’s half-shuttered eyes peel open, the orgasm she’s coming down from is gone, and in its place is worry. I shake my head, telling her in not so many ways to keep quiet. My ears stay peeled for his receding footsteps. Once I know the coast is clear, I’ll make sure no one will notice my woman leaving the closet looking like she’s sexed up. I slowly pull my fingers out of her pussy, feeling the fluttering of her orgasm that still lingers, and I’m not wasting time or the remnants of her coming for me. I bring my fingers to my mouth and let her watch as I lick them clean.
I lose my concentration when she cups my cock in her hand. As much as I hate to stop her, we have to get going. If I’m gone for too much longer, they’ll send out a search party, or worse, leave without me. Shit would hit the motherfucking fan. I’d get my ass handed to me, chewed up and down, and everywhere in between, get written up, the whole nine yards.
“Later, sweetheart, promise,” I whisper into her ear, stepping closer and placing a kiss on the column of her throat. Plus, everyone knows the adrenaline rush from coming off a kickass day makes sex ten times hotter.
“You’re sure?” she replies. Delilah is all about giving what she gets. Love that about my woman, but right now, the last thing I need is to have her mouth wrapped around my cock when I need to be mission focused.
“Positive. Tonight, when I get home, I want you naked and cuffed in my bed. I’ll fuck your tits, then I’ll fuck your mouth.” I pull back wanting to see if she’s up for another round in handcuffs. Sure enough, she’s more than ready. Match fucking made.
“Text me when you’re on your way. I’ll be ready and waiting.” Son of a bitch, there’s no way I’m leaving her without another taste of her lips.
“Fuck, yeah,” I murmur before my mouth is on hers. Delilah opens with one sweep of my tongue along the seam of her lips. I swallow down the soft little purr she gives me each and every time we have a moment like this. My hand clenches around her neck, holding her exactly where I want her as I take from her. This kiss is going to have to hold me over. These things take hours, which means getting home at my usual time is out the window. I’ll be lucky to get off by early nightfall.
“I love you, Fletcher Wild. Come home to me.” Delilah Taylor has been around the block a few times with her father being a police chief. I imagine she’s seen him dressed down and dressed in gear.
“Love you, Delilah. No one can keep me away from coming back to you.” It’s a promise I’m making here and now. The other questions that are lingering in the air can wait until later. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” She nods but remains quiet. Yeah, we’re going to be coming back to a much-needed discussion, and very fucking soon.
Chapter 19
Fletch
“Everyone have their comms in?” I ask over the channel. We’re at the second house. The whole team came together for today’s festivities. The last house was a clean sweep. No one was there except for a shit ton of drugs, paraphernalia, and enough illegal guns to supply a cartel. We called in the drug enforcement agency to help process everything and to move this along in order for us to get to the second search warrant.
“Go for Joyfield,” Wyatt says.
“Good for Matthers,” George responds.
“Landry here,” another officer from night shift says into his communication device. We finish going down the line with the rest of the officers we have on the house. DEA decided to wrangle up a few of their officers to make it a mutual effort since the amount we found at the last house was as big as it was. Still, I’m taking lead, and it’s up to me when we barge through the front door.
“Warwick is a go,” Chet checks in.
It’s go-time. “Peach Springs PD, open up!” I bang on the door. “Search warrant!” I finish off, letting them know who’s at the door. I’d rather not break the door down, and sometimes it comes down to it. Everyone is aware of the report I wrote up indicating a child and likely her mother have been seen here.
I repeat the process one more time, waiting for a response, and when none is received, and we’re about to use the battering ram, I yell out, “Stop!” The door slowly creeps open. It only opens an inch, and where I should be met eye to eye, I have to lower my gaze, slow and steady like. There are still too many unknown variables I can’t control. Being lead on this doesn’t help the knots of worry in my gut when I’m confronted with a pair of big blue eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Fuck me running, this day has gone from good to bad in a blink of any eye.
“Is your momma here?” I bend down, going against every protocol we’ve ever been taught. There’s no way I’m aiming my fist, a gun, or a battering ram in her face. It’s clear as day she’s been crying.
“Momma?” The little girl opens the door another inch.
“Wyatt, cover me,” I toss over my shoulder, squatting down until I’m on my haunches, hoping being on eye level will make the little girl trust me.
