She laughs in my face, but I can see she likes the challenge. “Sorry, I don’t go home with strangers. It’s the hotel next door or the cab of my truck. Take your pick.”
I don’t say anything. I just keep looking down at her. Her clear blue eyes are locked on mine. I’m dominant by nature, and control is something I need. I’m not backing down from her demands, nor do I think I would get what I want from her if I did. I can feel her emotional struggle to ‘win’ this battle, but I stay silent and let her figure out her next move. She breaks the silence.
“You’re hot, but I don’t see you getting me off. Most hot guys are lazy because they just rely on their looks. I have to do all the work to get what I want, so I’ll take that bet.”
If guys are lazy with her they’re fucking crazy. The idea of making her cum over and over again with my fingers, mouth, and cock is the hottest thing I can imagine. It’s so hot, thinking about this strong-willed woman screaming my name because I gave her uncontrolled pleasure. I’ll eat her pussy until she can’t move, just so she has to stay in my bed.
I lean in to kiss her lips again, but I stop before I make contact. Despite her no-kissing-on-the-lips rule, her head tilts up in anticipation of a kiss, her body pushing against mine. No matter what her brain is telling her, her body is enjoying the show.
I look into her ice-blue eyes and think about the first time I saw her. It was a week ago when her file landed on my desk. I opened the folder and there she was. The one.
Most people would say I was crazy. Lucky for me, I don’t give a fuck what most people think. I come from a big Italian family where everybody has an opinion on how you should live your life, but my pop is the one I respect the most. The day I saw her picture, those glacier eyes of hers looked back at me and I was done. I got up from my desk and went to see my pop. My father understands. He saw my mother for the first time when he was ten years old, and he knew he’d spend the rest of his life with her. I never thought lightning would strike twice in our family, but that day, I was done. She is mine, she just doesn’t know it yet.
Once my pop hugged me and told me everything would be all right, I got to work on finding out why this little sharp shooter was involved in stolen guns.
I’d wanted to be a cop since I was a kid, so going into the FBI was a dream come true. I’ve put in over ten years of service and worked my ass off to get to where I am today. This road isn’t easy, but it’s the one I want. So finding out my girl was mixed up in stolen guns was a kick to the nuts.
I got involved in this case because I work in the Violent Crime and Major Thefts division at the FBI in Kansas City. The Feds love anything to do with stolen guns, and I’m head of the department. Anything this size goes through me, and after seeing her picture, I knew this was a case I would handle personally.
One of the stolen guns was found at the scene of a double murder, and from what our research uncovered, it once belonged to a Mackenzie Straight. Her file is long, listing all her personal achievements with the Air Force and subsequently her sniper skills in other branches of the military. It boasts pages of her service to her country, so I was baffled as to how she was caught up in all this. At first it seemed like a mistake, but the more I dug, the more I found. It turned out Mackenzie is wanted for questioning in Texas for a homicide case, so not only is she caught up in stolen guns, she may be involved in a murder.
The day I got her file and went to see my pop, I left his place and did a drive-by outside her house. Well, I meant to only drive by, but once I got there I decided to park for a bit. I wanted to see if I could catch a glimpse of her, and then I would leave. At least that’s what I told myself.
The sun was just setting as I pulled into an empty spot among some trees across from her place. Luckily I only had to wait about five hours before she pulled up, so by the time she got home, it was completely dark.
I heard her before I saw her, the rumble of her motorcycle making her arrival known. As I watched her pull into the driveway, I hunched down in my seat, so she wouldn’t see me. When I heard the bike cut off I rose a little and watched her climb off. I watched her as she stood there and shook her hair out. I was hard instantly just being this close to her, and I started to rub my hand across the front of my slacks. I never bothered to change when I left work, so I was still in my standard work suit. I reached up and pulled at my tie to try to get more oxygen into my body. Suddenly I felt as if I was suffocating.
I watched her turn around and look in my direction, as if she felt me there, but I knew I was completely concealed. After a moment of hesitation, she turned back around and went into her house. I was too hard and too worked up. I had to do something about it. I kept rubbing the front of my pants, but I knew I needed more to get any kind of relief.