Maybe Swearing Will Help (SWAT Generation 2.0 3)
By the time I was shrugging off the undershirt and exposing my bra, Ford realized rather quickly where I was going with this.
It was only when I was shimmying out of my panties and bending over to do it that he came unstuck.
The door that I’d gotten naked in front of slammed closed.
The lock clicked home.
And when I turned around, it was to see Ford staring at me like I was exactly what he’d always wanted.
“I’m tired of playing this game, Ford,” I said softly. “Either we do this, or I’m leaving. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. It’s slowly killing me.”
And I was sure he knew what I meant.
If he said no, there’d be no more fighting. There’d be no more teasing.
There’d be no talking at all.
There would be nothing, because I couldn’t be here and not have him anymore.
Not when I knew what I was missing now.
Before, when we’d both been hating each other—or pretending—we hadn’t realized what we could accomplish when we were together.
Then, when we’d taken that step, I’d thought for sure that I could pretend that it’d never happened.
But I’d underestimated Ford’s power that he wielded over me.
I didn’t realize that I would think about him day and night.
I couldn’t work next to him and no longer feel a thing.
Because my body knew what it was missing now.
It was missing Ford.
Badly.
My fingers no longer cut it.
Hell, the dildo I’d ordered off of Amazon wouldn’t even cut it.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I told him. “Working with you, seeing you…” I moved until we were only inches apart. Dragging my fingers down his chest, feeling the hardness of the Kevlar vest underneath my palms, I said one last thing that broke his control completely. “All I think about is how you felt inside me. How full I was. How right it felt. How hot and wanted and needed I was. Ford… I want you. I’m done trying to deny it.” I looked into his eyes. “Either fuck me or leave me alone.”
He didn’t leave me alone.
In fact, he did quite the opposite.
I should’ve expected it after the kiss today.
But his desire. His need?
It was like a pasture fire deep in the middle of a Texas drought.
He went from one extreme to the other.
A whisper of smoke to totally consumed in point five seconds.
His arms went around my naked body as he bent down and picked me up.
I gasped at the feel of his gun belt pressing into my hips. The way his fingers dug in just a little too tightly. The way his uniform shirt rasped roughly against my nipples.
And then he was tossing me down on the bed and following me down, his body leaning heavily into mine as he situated himself between my thighs.
I forgot about everything after that.
Only focusing on the way he felt pressing against me—and boy, there was no hiding his cock and how hard it was digging into my mound.
I didn’t feel the gun belt digging into my thighs. Didn’t feel the pile of socks that he’d somehow forgotten about and laid me down on top of.
I didn’t even question the near subzero temperatures that he kept his place at when he wasn’t there.
All I focused on was the way his mouth consumed mine.
The way he felt like he was saying goodbye without moving his body away from me.
Then a thought occurred to me, and I shook my head violently.
“No,” I said, pushing away. “No. Either say yes or let me go.”
He didn’t get up off of me, which was when I realized how cold I was. How lumpy the bed was underneath of me. And the way his gun was digging into my inner thigh.
And not even the good gun.
The solid metal one that was cold and had a really scratchy barrel.
“I’m not saying no,” he said, sounding tortured as he stood up and divested himself of his gun belt. “I’m saying yes. Goddamn me, I’m saying yes.”
I watched, enraptured, as he slowly unbuttoned his uniform shirt. When he got to the bottom, he shrugged out of it, the fabric carelessly falling to the floor as he kept his eyes on me.
I swallowed thickly when he left the vest in place and started to unbutton his pants.
I moaned in the back of my throat and started to twitch and writhe on the bed, my eyes going positively molten as the thin black cloth of his boxer briefs came into view.
His grin was wicked when he pushed his underwear low enough for his cock to pop through.
My thighs slapped shut as I once again got a good look at his cock.
Jesus. Christ.
He was so big that I already knew I’d be feeling him tomorrow morning.
Thank God I didn’t have to work. Because I could already tell that I’d be deliciously sore.