Double Tap (Code 11-KPD SWAT 2)

“You weren’t there. I needed you, and you weren’t there,” she whispered brokenly.

My heart broke.

“I didn’t know,” I rasped.

She slumped into me. “I wanted you to come to Houston so bad. And you never came. I called you so many times, and you never came.”

“I did come, though. I may not have been there in person, but I was there with you. I thought about you nonstop. Not once, in the last eight years, have I stopped thinking about you,” I said adamantly. “I would’ve come down and helped you celebrate your graduation just so you had someone there if I hadn’t shot that stupid bitch who was trying to kill Luke. I’d have been there. I’ve known where you were since six months after the accident. I’ve gone down there every month since I got out of the Navy.”

She looked shaken. “You knew where I was? But why did you never stop by?”

I leaned my back against the counter and shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest. “You weren’t ready. I knew you’d come back when you were.”

Her mouth dropped open and the hair that’d been threatening to fall out of the messy bun she’d put it in, finally gave way, spilling her beautiful wavy hair out across her shoulders and partially covering her face.

“What would you have done if I was never ready?” She asked painfully.

“I’d have been one hell of a lonely man. You’re it for me, Georgia. You have been since you were that shy girl who stole my heart,” I said truthfully.

I would’ve waited too. However long it took. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was a sixty five year old man, there’d never have been another woman for me.

“But…” she shook her head. “If that was the case, why did you never return my calls?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know about any calls, Georgia. I’ve had the same number since I was fifteen. If you’d have called, I’d have answered.” Then I amended. “If I was able. What number did you call?”

Her brow furrowed. “The same one that I’ve been calling you on.”

I took the phone from her hand and started scanning through her contacts, finding two numbers. One under Nico, and one under Nicolas.

“Which one have you been getting calls from me under?” I asked, scanning through her call log.

Nico.

Pulling up the other number in her phone, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You have my dad’s number under my name.” I wheezed.

“But…if I had your dad’s number that means… Dear God. I left your dad all these voicemails. I practically poured my heart out in all of them!” She nearly yelled.

I shook my head. “It’s okay, Georgia. My dad doesn’t even know how to work his phone. He still has a flip phone, if that tells you anything. I don’t think he’s checked a voicemail in all that time. In fact, if the phone was capable, it’s probably still on there.”

She slumped and walked forward into my arms.

I caught her up, burying my face into her neck.

She smelled like hay and the laundry detergent she used. A cotton smell that was oddly attractive. It was also something I was beginning to smell like myself since she’d been the one to do my laundry the last time.

“I just can’t believe it. All these years I’ve been calling your dad. How did I screw that up?” She asked.

“Dad’s and my number are one digit apart. His ends in 2122, and mine ends in 2123,” I explained.

She sighed, and the feel of her breath against my chest was enough to make my mind turn from the fight we’d been having to making up.

We’d never had make-up sex before.

But we were about to if the feel of her hand running up my bare side was anything to say about it.

“Georgia, we need to talk about birth…” I tried, but the feel of her lips running along my nipple made me lose my train of thought.

My hand went up, tangling in her hair and I said, “I didn’t think that nipple play would be what did it for me.”

It did, though. It made my dick go from half-mast to full blown, raging hard on in milliseconds.

She whimpered when she pressed herself against me and felt the way my cock tented the front of my jeans.

Her mouth switched to my other nipple while her hands went down and found the belt of my jeans.

My hand went down to the gun that I had at my back, and I withdrew it, then set it on the counter.

In the nick of time, too, because in the next moment my pants were down around my ankles, as were my underwear.

My erection bounced free, smacking against her belly like a heavy weight.

Pre come oozed from the tip, wetting her shirt where it came to a rest on her stomach, but she didn’t care.

Instead, she ripped the shirt free from her body and threw it across the room.

It hooked on the faucet, the tail end hanging down to trail in a pot that I’d had soaking in the sink.

Neither one of us paid it another thought as she started in on her bra next.

It was one of those ones that clasped in the front, and it took her practically no time at all to get it unlatched.

Her breasts fell free and bounced, finally settling in place with her nipples pebbled. Breasts heavy with arousal. Her chest and face were flushed, her eyes dilated.

I took all that in at a glance, waiting to see what she’d do next.

In all of our sexual encounters, it’d always been me who initiated sex.

This was new for me.

It surprised me how sensual she was.

How eloquent her movements were.

The skirt she had on would’ve been next to go, except she surprised me, yet again, by yanking it up to pull her panties off rather than removing it all together.

Then, without another word, she turned around and bent over the kitchen table.

Saliva pooled in my mouth as she looked over her shoulder at me, wiggling her ass.