SCOUT
Desi was impatient.He ripped my panties down my thighs and his fingers moved quickly, spreading me wide.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said as he knelt between my legs and pulled me to him. I squealed in delight as he ran his fingers along the inside of my thighs, sending delicious tickles through me. His finger slid between my folds, and he chuckled. “Sucking my cock gets you wet? Good to know.”
He pushed my legs further apart and leaned in, using his hands to relax me. His tongue rolled around and found my clit, sucking it as he hooked his finger deep inside me. My hands found his dark hair, and I pushed him deeper, begging him not to stop.
He kept going until I couldn’t take it any longer, and I exploded. My release came hard and it felt like time had stopped as my body pulsed against Desi’s fingers.
He released me and sat up with a wicked grin.
“You didn’t have to do that.” I sighed contentedly. “I enjoy doing that for you.”
He smirked and reached for his pants to pull out his cigarettes. “Yeah?”
“I do.” I nodded eagerly and wrapped my arms around him from behind. “I like making you come more than myself.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you could see yourself.” He stood and pulled me up. Careful not to burn me with his lit cigarette, he took my hands and we danced slowly to the music. “I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you are when you’re coming.”
I blushed. His words sent butterflies through my belly. “Desi…” I gulped. “What you said, earlier…”
“You think I said it because we were in the heat of the moment?” he asked, reading my mind. He pressed a kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on him. “No. I said it because I meant it.”
“But we barely—”
“Who gives a shit about time?” he huffed and backed away. He took a drag of his cigarette. “Time means nothing. I’m in love with you, and more time isn’t going to change how I feel. The better question is, how do you feel about me?”
My heart raced, and my mouth suddenly felt dry. How could I confess to him that I felt the same? We were twenty-six years old. Adults with jobs, bills, and responsibilities. We couldn’t be confessing our love like we were fifteen and ready to run away with each other.
Would that be so bad?
I opened my mouth to express my thoughts when there was a loud bang on my front door. We both looked toward it, and the banging came again. Quickly, I pulled on my clothes, and Desi pulled on his pants.
“Police! Open up!”
I froze and turned to Desi. Had they discovered what he had done? Desi’s expression darkened, and he put his finger to his lips. I nodded.
“Desiderio Amato, we have reason to believe you are inside. We have a warrant for your arrest.”
On Thanksgiving? My chin trembled as the fear set in.
“It’s fine. It’s a misunderstanding is all. Stop crying,” he ordered, tilting my chin up.
I wiped my tears, straightened, and went to the door just as they were knocking again. I opened it quickly and glared at the same two officers from before.
“What do you want?” I surprised myself with how firm and cold I was toward the policemen. Bright red and blue lights were flashing from their car. My neighbors peeked out from their curtains.
“Is Desiderio Amato here, Miss?”
“I am.” Desi stepped forward. “And?”
“We have a warrant for your arrest. Now, if you step outside, Miss, we can do this peacefully,” the policeman to the left said, waving a small packet of papers.
“What’s the warrant for?” Desi crossed his arms. The officer to the right snatched the papers. The look on his face told me they were prepared to send him away for a long time.
“Where were you Monday evening?”
Desi’s blue eyes flicked to me. “Why?”
