Criminally Supernatural

Jack makes eye contact across the bar. He watches as you wrap your tongue gently around the straw dancing in your drink. He's had one too many whiskeys, forgetting that he's your attending. He's supposed to be mentoring you, not fantasizing about being between your lips.

Worship me Make you believe I'm what you need So beg, darlin', please

He knows it's wrong, but he can't stop thinking about you. It started as innocent, simply smelling your perfume lingering, hearing your laughter carrying through the air, admiring the way your brows pushed together when you were focused.

Now, that's not enough. He needs more. He needs you.

Baby, don't lie It's okay that you crave me Your eyes on my body, you're shaking Get high on me for you're forsaken

He moves towards the bar, eyes focused on you. You're smiling at someone else, holding the straw gingerly between your fingers, and sucking mindlessly.

He stands behind you, his warmth immediate, and goosebumps rise on your skin. He turns towards you, his nose ghosting over your neck, his lips tickling the shell of your ear. He whispers your name.

Pretty when you say my name like that Feel your lips trace down my neck Darlin', don't say nothing, just breathe

He's got you pushed up against your door, finally in the privacy of your home, where he can worship you properly. He has your hands pinned above your head, barely grazing you as your noses touch, lips so close you can almost taste him.

He presses his lips to you, hungry, begging for access with his tongue. You break the kiss and place your forehead against his. He releases your hands, and you place them on his shoulders.

"Knees." There's no question from your lips. He groans as you watch him lower himself.

Pretty when you're looking up like that Pray but Heaven won't let you back Good on your knees

You undo your pants and slide them down your legs until they pool at your feet. His eyes turn dark, his tongue darts to wet his lips. He places soft kisses to your stomach, just above your underwear. He steadies himself by placing his hands on your hips and hooking his fingers under the hem of the only layer between him and what he really wants.

Slowly, he pulls down revealing his prize. He can see how aroused you are, dripping, puffy, and needy.

His tongue finds the spot where you need him most. You run your hands through his curls, gripping at the back, when he groans from the pressure.

"So good for me, Jack." You moan his name, head hitting the door, eyes rolling back. You've thought about this for so long. His lips, his mouth, his tongue.

Whisper, give me your life Yeah, we're both sinners Your body is close, your tongue lingers You feed me the taste of your fingers

He slips a strong finger into your heat. It's sinful the way he's making you feel, but there is no guilt. No, this feels right, good, necessary.

He coaxes an orgasm from you sooner than you would've liked. He's drowning in you, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be. He looks up at you through his lashes, begging for your praise.

"So pretty looking up like that." You're breathless. "Is this what you need?"

He groans into you. You tug on his hair and signal for him to stand back up.

"Beg, darling. Please." You place a hand on the back of his neck.

"Please, please. I crave you." He places wet kisses on your neck towards your collarbone.

There's no time to make it to your bedroom. The couch will have to do. Neither of you can wait.

You step out of your pants and undergarments. Pushing him towards the sofa. He takes the hint, as you start undoing his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to reveal his own arousal.

He's big and standing at attention. You pass your thumb over his leaking head and watch his head roll back. You lift his shirt off, exposing freckled skin over tight muscles. You've dreamed about those biceps holding you.

"Sit." You lightly push his shoulder. You remove your own shirt, causing him to growl at you.

You climb on top of him, using his shoulders to steady yourself over him. You run him over slick center before pushing him in. The sounds leaving your mouths are animalistic.

"Yeah," he breathes, "yeah."

You're gliding up and down on him, chasing another orgasm.

"You're going to finish inside me, okay, Jack?" You look him in his eyes. "You're going to fill me up like I know you've imagined."

His head rolls back to your sofa. He's groaning like you've never heard before. "Okay," he whimpers.

"I'm close, Jack." He doesn't respond. "Are you listening?" You pull his hair.

"Yes, yes." He places his hands on your hips.

"That's right. Cum for me, Jack." You pick up speed. "Right now." You whisper into his ear.

He's never seen stars like that before. His hearing goes. He can't see or hear, but he feels like he's reached ecstasy. He can feel you grip him like a vice and milk him for everything he has. It's been months of him imagining this, and he never would've have pictured the way you look right now.

You dismount and walk to your kitchen. He watches as your ass jiggles, swaying away from him. He hates that you've left, but god, if you don't look downright delicious right now.

You return with a glass of water.

"I knew you could worship me, Jack." You climb into his lap, placing the lip of the glass to his lips. He gulps the water down, missing the taste of you as it coats his mouth.

"I'm what you need."

You made eye contact with Juanito and motioned for him to come talk to you. Sammy watched as the boy made his way to you.

"Listen, I know Sammy is pretty corny and very white knight-ish," you paused, "but he's right."

Juanito rolls his eyes. Sammy sees the way you look at him though, like you know what he's feeling. He isn't sure how, but you do.

"Hey, we all have choices, good and bad. Positive and negative."

"Rich people have choices." He scoffed.

"We all have have choices. You are very smart, and it's important that you try to use that for good, not evil."

"So I should join the explorers?"

"Hell no. Who would want to hang out with those losers?" You smiled back at him. "But, you should try to go to school and keep reading. You have a lot of potential to be something. Something better than anyone could imagine."

"You know... I might need a mentor. Someone who gets me." He looked up at you through his lashes, giving you puppy dog eyes. "Maybe I could call you? If I need help."

You smirked. You reached into your jacket and pulled out a card. "Here. Don't abuse it, okay?"

Sammy couldn't hear your conversation, but he watched you smile warmly at the boy. You chuckled and then bent down, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"You see that?" He beamed at Sammy.

"Yeah, yeah. Get in the car."

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Sammy didn't know how the day was going to end, but he certainly did not foresee arresting the young boy he cared about, nor coming home to find Tammi had been robbed of her computer and camera.

He couldn't deal with everything all at once, so he left. He left and found his way to your door. Knocking gently, he heard your steps towards the door. Deadbolt undone and you before him.

"You okay, Sammy?" You looked him up and down to check for wounds. "Sammy?"

"Can I come in?" He didn't make eye contact.

You stepped aside and let him in. When you closed the door, he turned around suddenly. His eyes finally met yours, and he stepped closer. You backed up against the door.

"Sammy," your breath barely a whisper.

His nose brushed against yours and ghosted his lips over yours before making contact. At first, his lips are gentle, light. As you kiss him back, he begins to become more forceful, searching, needy, desperate.

Your mind comes back to you, and you realize the gravity of what you're doing.

You break the kiss. "Stop," your hands pressed to his chest. "Sammy." You press your forehead to his.

"I just... I need you." He holds your face in his hands, thumbs passing over your cheekbones. "I want you."

"Where does your wife think you are?" Your eyes search his.

He pulls away from you, frustrated.

"Sammy, I... I want you," you breathe, "but not like this. I don't want to be another cliche." He doesn't respond. "You can stay here tonight. I just... we have to keeps things..."

Jack makes eye contact across the bar. He watches as you wrap your tongue gently around the straw dancing in your drink. He's had one too many whiskeys, forgetting that he's your attending. He's supposed to be mentoring you, not fantasizing about being between your lips.

Worship me Make you believe I'm what you need So beg, darlin', please

He knows it's wrong, but he can't stop thinking about you. It started as innocent, simply smelling your perfume lingering, hearing your laughter carrying through the air, admiring the way your brows pushed together when you were focused.

Now, that's not enough. He needs more. He needs you.

Baby, don't lie It's okay that you crave me Your eyes on my body, you're shaking Get high on me for you're forsaken

He moves towards the bar, eyes focused on you. You're smiling at someone else, holding the straw gingerly between your fingers, and sucking mindlessly.

He stands behind you, his warmth immediate, and goosebumps rise on your skin. He turns towards you, his nose ghosting over your neck, his lips tickling the shell of your ear. He whispers your name.

Pretty when you say my name like that Feel your lips trace down my neck Darlin', don't say nothing, just breathe

He's got you pushed up against your door, finally in the privacy of your home, where he can worship you properly. He has your hands pinned above your head, barely grazing you as your noses touch, lips so close you can almost taste him.

He presses his lips to you, hungry, begging for access with his tongue. You break the kiss and place your forehead against his. He releases your hands, and you place them on his shoulders.

"Knees." There's no question from your lips. He groans as you watch him lower himself.

Pretty when you're looking up like that Pray but Heaven won't let you back Good on your knees

You undo your pants and slide them down your legs until they pool at your feet. His eyes turn dark, his tongue darts to wet his lips. He places soft kisses to your stomach, just above your underwear. He steadies himself by placing his hands on your hips and hooking his fingers under the hem of the only layer between him and what he really wants.

Slowly, he pulls down revealing his prize. He can see how aroused you are, dripping, puffy, and needy.

His tongue finds the spot where you need him most. You run your hands through his curls, gripping at the back, when he groans from the pressure.

"So good for me, Jack." You moan his name, head hitting the door, eyes rolling back. You've thought about this for so long. His lips, his mouth, his tongue.

Whisper, give me your life Yeah, we're both sinners Your body is close, your tongue lingers You feed me the taste of your fingers

He slips a strong finger into your heat. It's sinful the way he's making you feel, but there is no guilt. No, this feels right, good, necessary.

He coaxes an orgasm from you sooner than you would've liked. He's drowning in you, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be. He looks up at you through his lashes, begging for your praise.

"So pretty looking up like that." You're breathless. "Is this what you need?"

He groans into you. You tug on his hair and signal for him to stand back up.

"Beg, darling. Please." You place a hand on the back of his neck.

"Please, please. I crave you." He places wet kisses on your neck towards your collarbone.

There's no time to make it to your bedroom. The couch will have to do. Neither of you can wait.

You step out of your pants and undergarments. Pushing him towards the sofa. He takes the hint, as you start undoing his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to reveal his own arousal.

He's big and standing at attention. You pass your thumb over his leaking head and watch his head roll back. You lift his shirt off, exposing freckled skin over tight muscles. You've dreamed about those biceps holding you.

"Sit." You lightly push his shoulder. You remove your own shirt, causing him to growl at you.

You climb on top of him, using his shoulders to steady yourself over him. You run him over slick center before pushing him in. The sounds leaving your mouths are animalistic.

"Yeah," he breathes, "yeah."

You're gliding up and down on him, chasing another orgasm.

"You're going to finish inside me, okay, Jack?" You look him in his eyes. "You're going to fill me up like I know you've imagined."

His head rolls back to your sofa. He's groaning like you've never heard before. "Okay," he whimpers.

"I'm close, Jack." He doesn't respond. "Are you listening?" You pull his hair.

"Yes, yes." He places his hands on your hips.

"That's right. Cum for me, Jack." You pick up speed. "Right now." You whisper into his ear.

He's never seen stars like that before. His hearing goes. He can't see or hear, but he feels like he's reached ecstasy. He can feel you grip him like a vice and milk him for everything he has. It's been months of him imagining this, and he never would've have pictured the way you look right now.

You dismount and walk to your kitchen. He watches as your ass jiggles, swaying away from him. He hates that you've left, but god, if you don't look downright delicious right now.

You return with a glass of water.

"I knew you could worship me, Jack." You climb into his lap, placing the lip of the glass to his lips. He gulps the water down, missing the taste of you as it coats his mouth.

"I'm what you need."