#ovulation writes

The city was oddly quiet for once. At least just enough. You've been patching him up in intervals ever since Los Angeles was almost flipped upside down by the Red Ring, and although you weren't a superhero, you still used your powers to help out in some capacity. Robert couldn't be anymore grateful. For everything.

The warm breeze that came through the window was no bother. Your place was always the go-to even before he was nearly flat broke. Your apartment was far cozier and generally livable. You insisted that he move in but after the thirtieth try, he admitted that he'd feel like a burden. And that there wouldn't be a point if he's just going to be gone all the time. He had this sentiment when he was doing hero work and it still holds now that he's a dispatcher. Even though you wholeheartedly disagree, you digress. Your boyfriend's wishes came with great respect because of everything he does for the city and you just love him that much.

It was dark but the city lights illuminated parts of your room, cascading over the side of your face. You were just...mesmerizing. He could stare at you for hours. Funny, because he actually has. The few photos of you together that are hung up in his room? On those off days, there's not a single part that goes overlooked. And, honestly, he might be overthinking it but he swears he finds something new about your appearance every time. He legitimately cannot get enough. It's impossible.

"...but I still don't feel bad at all about throwing that spaghetti at him-" he grunted softly at the same time you were patting a deep scar on his shoulder. A look of concern replaced your focused one.

"Too hard?"

"If you're asking about the cotton ball, no," he said. This sentence could've easily worked as a general sentiment if he wasn't kneading the fat of your thighs. You narrowed your eyes, shifting your weight by a centimeter. His jaw flexed and his calloused palms slid up to your hips clad in your conveniently short nightgown. "You're trouble."

"I don't know what you mean," you lightly shrugged and went to clean a cut on his temple. It went smoothly until he grunted again.

"Ya know, when you suggested that sitting in my lap would make me feel better while you tended to my wounds, I didn't think sitting pretty on my dick was included with the care package."

You pulled back and folded your arms, smushing your breasts together. He almost already forgot what the conversation was about.

"You didn't say no."

"Well, yeah, because I thought it'd take my mind off the ghost-knife wound in my side."

"Is it not?"

"Oh, it definitely is," he claims, "it's just difficult not to keep going back and forth between wanting to muster the strength I have left to bounce you in my lap or let you do your job. Pain or pleasure type of thing."

You didn't respond immediately to feel how his body was responding.

"The twitching says otherwise," you comment, "I can't finish if you're going to be impatient."

"And I can't finish if you're going to be patient," he pauses for comedic effect, "looks like we're at a crossroads, baby."

"Looks like it," you agreed. You were having a face off but he folded within the minute. Robert always felt so greedy when it came to you. Every time he catches a whiff of your hair or hears your laugh or catches you staring in the mirror too long trying to figure out if your outfit is on par, his heart could explode out of his chest.

"You have such pretty eyes," he said softly, one hand brushing your cheek. "I ever tell you that?"

"Only all the time," you said. He chuckled.

"Then I take it back." he added. "I love you."

Now it was your turn to melt. He didn't say it often because he didn't want it to lose meaning. To save it for the moments he knew you'd 100% appreciate hearing it come from his lips.

"I don't say it nearly enough as I should, but-"

"I know," you gently cut him off and held his hand before releasing it and wrapping your arms around him. "I love you more."

He playfully scoffs. "Impossible," he murmured, daring to pull you a little closer to his chest while leaning in closer. Your lips ghosted his and he spoke softly again. "Don't tease."

"But you're so pretty when you beg," you whispered and kissed him slow. When your hips started to rock a bit he moaned into your mouth. The soft pads of his fingers squeezing your sides when you lifted them just enough for it to move from cock-warming to almost riding.

"Please, baby, please..." he whispered against your lips. You smiled and kissed him again. He's had a long few days, so you decide against making him work for it. This time.

You sank back down and felt him tense beneath you. Not out of discomfort or pain from his recent wounds, but because nothing compared to being snug inside you. It was like a warm embrace.

"Wanna make you feel good," you muttered while setting a slow pace. His cold hands long since slipped under your nightgown. He shuddered and gently guided you, eyes half lidded.

"You always had a knack for that," he replied and closed his eyes for a moment. Pure. Fucking. Bliss.

You slid the gown down past your shoulders so it would fall and pool at your hips. When he opened his eyes, they were stuck on yours for a long moment before drifting down to your bare upper body. Watching you ride him and how your breasts bounce every time your thighs meet his. This was nothing new for him. He was unfazed by many things in his life, but this one thing. You. Sometimes he genuinely cannot believe you're his.

He looked up at you getting yourself off. Listening to your sighs and soft gasps. Occasionally breaking eye contact when you'd drop a certain way that had him hit the angle that gets you there quicker.

When you felt him harden and look up at you with those perfect brown eyes, you knew you had him. That he was finally letting himself go. Finally letting himself feel.

Feeling his hands grip your hips tighter, you leaned down to kiss him once more. This time rougher; more passion. He groaned into your mouth, hips bucking up to meet yours as the pleasure struck his veins. You could feel him throbbing inside you.

Breaking the kiss, you sat up and braced your hands on his chest. You started to move faster, your breasts bouncing with every roll of your hips.

The sounds that filled the room were downright sinful. Moans and groans increasing in volume every up and down. Sweaty skin slapping against each other.

"You were right," his deep voice cut through the fog that was your mind. "I feel so much fuckin' better, baby. More than you could- fuck imagine."

His words only spurred you on, causing you to pick up the pace. Riding him harder. Faster. You both could feel your climax approaching, your walls starting to flutter around him.

"Who makes you feel this way?" you asked, sliding one hand up to cup his jaw. "Who makes you feel good?"

"Only you," he nearly cut off your second question. His eyes flicked between your face and your chest, drinking in the erotic sight of you losing yourself in the pleasure. "Only- you-"

His eyes shut tight as he came faster than he thought. He cursed and exhaled deeply, but that didn't stop him from helping you chase your high. He wasn't going to let this end before you got what you deserve.

"Don't stop," he grunted and held you tighter, looking back up at you, "don't fuckin' stop. I got you. Use me."

Each drag of his thick shaft against your sensitive spots sent jolts of electricity through your body. You changed the angle of your hips and cried out in ecstasy as he hit that sweet spot dead-on, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck-"

Your movements became erratic as you chased your rapidly approaching climax. The room filled with the symphony of making love to one another. The creaking of the bed, the slick glide of flesh on flesh, and the increasingly profane desperate sounds spilling from your lips. One of many states he finds you the most beautiful in.

Finally, that coil snapped. Your orgasm was like a slingshot as the force hit you without preparation. Your walls clamping down around him like a vice as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Robert held you tightly as you rode out your high.

"I got you...I got you..." he whispered into your shoulder. You may have painted his lap with slick but he didn't give a fuck.

As you both calmed down in each other's arms, he used the bit of strength he had left to gently flip you into your back. He couldn't stop himself from peppering your face with soft kisses, starting with your heavy, tired eyes.

"I know you have another in you," he mused quietly then kept kissing you. You playfully scoffed and wrapped your legs around him.

"One more before we go to sleep?"

He backed up slightly with a genuine small smile, the softest he's spoken in a minute.

Clark moped around like a dog. You've been intentionally avoiding him the past few days and he's been taking it hard. You gave him plenty of chances and let go of most of his excuses because he didn't seem like a sleazy guy. Just one who was really shitty at lying to the only woman that has his eye.

He'd been subtly following you around. Peeking past doorframes of rooms you were in and pretending to do something just so nobody would be suspicious. He'd shyly put your favorite hot drink on your desk while you were in meetings--and only a few have gone cold. Clark knew he fucked up, missing the one thing he kept reminding himself of before going out and saving people.

The deadline.

It's literally circled multiple times on his calendar and he forgot. He missed the deadline to your biggest story yet. Didn't even shoot you a text. And boy were you pissed. But that's what was killing him. You're the type to not sugarcoat much. You don't get paid to cushion the blow. Beating around the bush doesn't win awards or earn anyone's respect. You were silently angry with him.

You walked past him without so much as a glance for the past few days. Like he didn't exist. You kept leaving his messages on read. And most of all, you didn't even seem upset. You spoke and joked with people like Lois, Jimmy, and Cat like normal. But even they noticed--including Perry--that you were ignoring Clark.

Yet the absolute worst part of all this is that...he was kinda into it.

Yes, he knows it's terrible what he did and will never stop apologizing profusely until you verbally him to stop, but...you're so hot when you're like this. Intense. Blatant or subtle. It was an all out war between sheer guilt and pure attraction.

It was when you set a pile of copies on your desk and went to use the bathroom, the descendant clicking of your heels caught up to Clark's hearing in an instant--you had to go the second floor since the one on the first was being cleaned. Once you finished in there, the moment you stepped out, there he was, standing there like a scolded child trying to lessen his sentence. You could see him physically flinch at your scowl.

"Clark," you said his name so casually. Too casually. Too calm. "You're in my away."

Clark gulped audibly--almost cartoonishly--his heart pounding in his chest as he met your stern gaze. He knew that calm demeanor all too well. It was the same one you used when you were absolutely furious but refused to cause a scene. The same one that made his palms sweat and his stomach twist into knots.

"I just...I just want to talk."

Your eyes narrow as you take a few steps forward, seeing the 6'4 man shrink under your gaze.

"After work." You grit. All he does is nod and watch you walk away with that irritated pep in your step. Ass popping in that pencil skirt and those moisturized legs reflecting light like nobody's business. Clark didn't fear much, especially when fighting alien beings on nearly a weekly basis, but you are definitely the scariest, toughest woman--no, human being he's ever met.

And it's so..so fucking hot.

-

"I just don't understand," you scoffed while shedding your jacket and peeling off your heels. Taking your hair down with an annoyed huff because it decided this time to be difficult. "I don't understand how one can 'forget' such a big step in my career. Our career."

He watched you, again, like a scolded dog. Standing awkwardly at the door with his bag still strapped to his chest. Those pretty boy eyes never worked on you. At least...not openly. You were just in your skirt and blouse now half-open. Bra almost fully visible. Whether or not if it was intentional was the last thing on Clark's mind.

You poured one, two, three glasses of wine to relax. Luckily Perry didn't penalize you both and gave a second chance to release said story, but that didn't make it any less irritating. You weren't the type of person to be late, let alone put out a big story late. And the fact that you had to depend on Clark, your loving boyfriend that you wish you could smack upside the head sometimes, didn't hold his weight still got to you.

You put the glass down on the counter with a heavy sigh, cutting an eye at him. The wine wasn't helping. When you walked to your bedroom, you didn't hear his footsteps following behind. So, with a quick glance over your shoulder that said it all.

He basically jumped out of his shoes and tossed his bag to the ground trying to reach you--without raising suspicion, of course. No super speed even though he would've appeared in your room seconds before you.

He fell back onto the bed with a surprised noise leaving his lips. Pupils dilating. Your blouse fully unbuttoned, bra on full display.

"Undo your pants."

He obeyed. Hands scrambling to unbuckle his belt and zipper. He didn't go any further because you didn't tell him to.

The woman of his dreams has no idea that the strongest being on the planet is the weakest in her presence.

Your blouse hit the wooden floor with a soft thud. Bra still on with no intention of removing it. You swiftly pulled down your underwear and kicked it off, skirt pulled up to your hips as you climbed on top of him.

Nothing beats the sensation of the first push; the first time entering someone's body. He shuddered and closed his eyes for just a second before he felt his jaw getting grabbed and forced to face forward.

"Look at me."

He did. Cold stare into those glossy blues while setting a fast pace already. The furrow in your brows, the way they knitted together with determination. A clear goal: getting yourself off.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. Trying in his truest best efforts to hold those eyes still. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to. Your grip on his jaw tightened slightly, nails digging into his indestructible skin as you continued your relentless pace.

"Please," he whispered with strain in his voice. Mouth squished. Chest feeling a thousand times heavier for pissing you off this badly. The only other time he's seen you this mad was when Vicki Vale got to a scene quicker than you and stole your entire story. "I'm sorry."

The squeezing feeling of your walls enveloping him was overloading his heightened senses. It was pure ecstasy. Pure bliss. And yet, this festering tension of pent-up frustration and anger that only served to make him incredibly more horny.

Your breaths started to become irregular. Grip wavering on his face, thighs trembling a bit. No matter how hard you tried to suppress your moans through heavy breathing, they still shined through. He knew that this was your way of punishing him. Of making him pay for his unforgivable mistake. But damn...if it wasn't the hottest thing he had ever experienced in his life. The way your body moved above him, focused solely on chasing your own pleasure. Using him like a toy. A mere object.

Your breasts bounced with each roll of your hips, the swell of your cleavage straining against the confines of your bra. He attempted to reach out and hold you, but you slapped his hand away and leaned forward to change the angle by a fraction and that was enough to get you to reach climax a whole lot faster.

You buried your face by his neck, still bouncing in his lap as you indulged and selfishly took in his scent just to overwhelm him even more in a short span of time. Moans and groans playing beautifully against his ear drums. His own end was on its way... and you knew that.

A few seconds before he could reach bliss in tandem, you let go of his face and rolled over on your back next to him. His eyes shot open, looking at you like he was offended. Hurt.

"I didn't say we were done."

Clark sat up and hovered over you, gasping at you suddenly pulling him down by his tie. One inch from your face as he stumbled fixing his glasses with urgency--he remembered you liked when he kept them on during sex.

The tip rubbed and poked at your heat like it was politely knocking. A guilty boyfriend at your door with flowers hoping and praying that you'll open the door.

"Go on," you said, "show me you're sorry."

You don't have to tell him twice. He thrusted forward before your sentence even finished, earning a shuddering, deep whine. Music to your ears. He set the same pace you did earlier, and watching the resolve on your face slowly fade was this close to getting him to cum on the spot.

"I'm so sorry," he said breathlessly, eyes shut tight as he held himself up and forced himself not to kiss those perfect lips. "Please, please, baby...I'm sorry."

Your body ran cold one second and struck hot the next. Goosebumps decorating your body as pleasure began to overtake you again. You tried to stay mad, and you were doing a great job. But it's the look of desperation on his face; in his voice. He won't be complete until you forgive him. Even if he came right now, it wouldn't matter. He needs those three words in order to feel whole again.

"It won't happen again, I swear, just- please forgive me."

"Say it again," you huff, wrapping your legs around his waist and loosening your grip on his tie just a little. He fixed his glasses again to hide the stinging tear threatening to fall from his eye.

"Sorry," he whispered, eyes opening to meet yours again. Eyebrows twitching.

"Say you're sorry and you won't forget again."

"I'm sorry and I won't forget ever again."

Your second orgasm was starting to move like blood in a vein. Clouding your thoughts and hindering you from making him say it again.

"Can I cum?" He asked, pleading your name. "Please?"

"Not before me," you said between your teeth, pulling him closer by the lapels and kissing him. Sloppily.

It hit you harder than before. Both of you swallowing each other's cries and Clark took that opportunity to let himself go; emptying himself inside in the height of the moment. Half-moaning your name into your mouth and stilling his pelvis against the back of your thighs.

There was a few moments of quiet. The room only filled with soft pants and light squelching from the aftermath. He pulled away and let you take off his glasses to kiss the tear beads staining his lashes. Foreheads resting against each others as the ache started to settle into your muscles, but you didn't mind it. You got it all out.

"I'm sorry," he whispered one more time and kissed the inside of your palm with a soft sigh. You give a nod and look into his eyes with gentleness for the first time in days.

You froze. It's like you could already feel his eyes on you. His beer breath on your neck and his voice drippin' like honey. You tried to keep the fact that you were itching to wait on him to yourself, but your biggest mistake was looking over your shoulder. He was staring right at you.

While Minnie was talking him up and pretending to care about the hardships of a hardworking man in uniform such as himself, he kept stealing glances at your back side. And he definitely wasn't even close to paying attention to your once freshly pressed curls being a little frizzy from the busy day in the diner.

You cleared your throat and filled the register as Minnie waved the note in front of you.

"It's his usual," she said, "I'm gonna take the new customer and you're gonna go get the meal he's been dyin' to have all day from the back. He left a hefty tip the last time you were here so, I can trust you'll work that pretty girl charm again, yes?"

Your hand twitched--unnoticed--as you kept your excitement in and saluted her. "I won't let you down."

"Good," she said and patted your shoulder. She was about to go through the doors when she paused. "How much?"

"$78.09."

She whistled and gave an approving nod. "Told you, you're the cutest in the family."

You playfully rolled your eyes before going closing up the register and greeting a small family that came in. Minnie came back out with a clean tray and handed to you like she was passing off a torch. It was a funny thing between you two because she did it all the time, but acted like it was the first time or this was the moment.

"It's go time, beautiful," she said, "And don't worry about mama, I won't tell if you won't tell."

Her eyes briefly met yours, a clear I can promise I won't plastered on your face. But what you definitely won't tell neither your mom nor your sister is that your delightful attitude and quality of service ain't the only reason he keeps leaving a ten dollar tip. Sometimes fifteen is you've been really good.

You had high ambitions. Who wants to work in a shabby diner their whole life? Not you! Not to mention your mother keeps nagging you about finding a husband so...

What she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?

Your switch completely flipped. Just like Minnie taught you. You sauntered over to the Sheriff-To-Be with a sweet smile, puffing your chest over his food so those little white buttons curving over your breasts were the first thing he saw.

"Evenin', Deputy," you said, a tiny hint of sultriness in your tone as you set the tray down. He watched you like a man who hadn't seen a woman before.

"Please," he rasped before he cleared his throat and sat back in the booth--his booth. "I told you Bucky is fine after hours, sweetheart."

"While I do appreciate you allowing someone like me to drop formalities," you began, placing his two patty burger, large fries, and beer on the table one by one while leaning over the table. You could see him fighting not to let his eyes fall to the curve of your ass in this little waitress uniform.

Thanks, Minnie.

"I respect you and your work too much to disregard your hard work, sir."

You straightened out and tucked the tray under your arm. "But if there's anything else you need...you know where to find me."

You lingered for one second longer and sauntered on back to the counter, placing the tray back on the rack and tending to the small family that came in.

His gaze was attached to your hips the entire distance you walked back to the counter, following the curves of your body as you retreated away from him. Bucky couldn't help the low chuckle that rumbled in his chest, a sound dripping in pure satisfaction.

Even as you busied yourself with the customers, Bucky's attention never wavered from you. He sat back and leisurely watched you move gracefully around the diner, effortlessly charming your way into the hearts and wallets of every patron who passed you by. His own dinner and a movie.

Every now and then, his eyes would rake over your figure. Every curve, every line on your body, every time you bent over to grab something. It was like he was mapping out his favorite spots in his mind before he got to touch them.

That's the thing though. He's never even seen your body past maybe that one time you were unaware of the new uniform being a size too small and you accidentally flashed him, and he occasionally beat off to that exact memory almost every time he had free time. Safe to say he's grown addicted to just the idea of, in his mind, "deflowering" you. He didn't know if you were a virgin or not but it didn't matter to him. Because after that first time you jerked him off in his patrol car and made him see stars, he was on a mission to scratch that itch. Satiate that craving.

Bucky took a long swig of his beer before setting it back down with a satisfied sigh. When he finished off the last of his burger and fries, it was like you appeared out of thin air. He fished in his pocket to drop a crumpled $5 to cover the meal and tip, watching you holding back a look of disappointment. You got so used to him dropping tens like it was nothing, sometimes in exchange for a...well, let's call it a happy ending. You took the five and gathered his dishes. His stood up from the booth with a grunt, sparing a glance at your ass with no shame.

"You wanna earn the rest?" he rasped quietly in your ear. He pulled a crisp ten from that same pocket and waved it in front of you like a carrot. Knowing good and well how desperate you were for money. He folded it real nice and put it back in his pocket before making his leave. You could hear Minnie bid him a cheerful farewell as the door chimed.

You sighed. Not from anything short of motivation to wrap up your shift until it was closing time. Which was in a half hour. You wouldn't be telling the truth if you said that didn't just set not only your priorities but your desires on fire too. Sure, using a corrupt Deputy for money shouldn't be your life right now, but...damn it is it so fun.

You went to the back and handed off the plates before grabbing a cigarette from your apron pocket, holding it up for Minnie to see.

"Goin' for a quick break," you said and she gave a thumbs up before returning to a customer at the counter.

The second you stepped out, a hand found your wrist and pulled you from under the building's lights casting down over the dumpster. You gasped and dropped the cigarette when a pair of lips met yours. When you registered the taste of beer and fries, you slowly smiled and tipped his hat up higher to kiss him better. Unable to stop the giggle of mischief that left you.

"Mm, such a fuckin' tease..." he whispered in between kisses. His large palms smoothed down your back and slipped under your uniform to feel your ass. This is always as far as it went. Always feeling you up like you actually belonged to him. And always in the dark; after hours where he can't be seen with you.

You smiled, "I'm sorry, Bucky," you whispered back and let him touch you anywhere he wanted. "I'd like to make it up to you."

He backed up, wiping your bottom lip with his thumb and admiring how you look with barely any light on you. "That's my girl." he said in a mock-encouraging tone just to see you squirm at how much you loved his praise. He took your hand and gestured towards his cop car that was so conveniently parked in a vacant part of the parking lot.

"There's money to be made if a man of the law is careful and...doesn't get a big head." he said, grunting breathlessly with his head thrown back on the headrest and an arm slung around your shoulder.

"I wanna get outta this diner, Bucky," you said softly in his ear while working your soft, pretty hands on him. His eyes widened a bit as he had to come up with a quick excuse.

"I told you, sweetie," he murmured as he turned to face you, your noses brushing against each other. "It's only a matter of time. No more parking lots...no more Pepsi cups. Just a big ole bed...Yeah." he smirked. "People like me in this town. You know that, honey."

You nodded, "Mhm," you hummed softly and stroked him faster--oh how he loved when you did that.

"Yeah...I'll get myself elected." he exhaled with rasp as he got closer, "Get a...cushy place up in Brewer Heights...You seen them..." he whispered. He was never a man for show. You didn't know if it was because he still wanted to look all manly in front of you, or if he just didn't want to give you that satisfaction. God forbid the day you realize the power you actually have over a damn officer. He'd have to start packing his shit the next day.

He grunted, gripping your shoulder tighter as he thrusted into your hand a few more times then came with a low groan, right into that Pepsi cup he had on hand. "...that was good," he panted, slowly coming down from his high with a smug smile as he looked down in his lap. "You get it all in the cup?"

You gave it to him with a look of pride and wiped your hands off on the small towel you reserved for these occasions. He tosses the cup out the window and stuffed himself back into his pants, turning to you once he caught you staring.

"Oh, right, almost forgot," he says while taking the ten out and gave it to you. You put it into your bra but didn't make a move to get out the car yet.

"Um," you started with a sheepish look, "Can we go back to your house tonight?"

He inhaled through his teeth with an uncertain expression, trying to figure out how to let you down easy. "You know I can't do that, baby..." he said. Translation for absolutely the hell not.

You pouted, giving him those eyes and rubbing his thigh with a light squeeze. "Please, sir?" you leaned closer to press your breasts against his bicep. "I'll make it worth your while..."

He was about to give a firm no but then he remembered...he still hadn't seen you. All of you. He shuddered a bit when your palm brushed over his knee.

"Alright," he said softly, watching you beam. "Only for the night. Go on and close up shop. I'll be right here." You kissed him on the cheek and went back in to help Minnie close.

You went back into the diner with a new pep in your step as you helped Minnie wipe down the counters and flip the chairs onto the tables. It didn't take long for the two of you to finish closing, and before you knew it, the clock struck midnight and you were locking the front door behind you.

You got back into the passenger seat, the leather was cool against your bare thighs, and you smoothed your uniform down as Bucky looked you up and down. It was game time. You were eager to make this night worth it and he was eager to see you the way his dreams do. Those filthy, raunchy dreams of you. And the only consistent factor was you in that uniform.

He licked his lips and started the car, the engine rumbling to life beneath you. The drive to his place was a blur and your mind raced with all the nasty things you wondered about him doing once you got there.

When you finally pulled into the driveway of a modest ranch house, Bucky put the car in park and turned to face you. "Home sweet home."

The place was nice and surprisingly neat. Minimal decorations but he had all good academy stuff on display. You took off your heels at the door and just looked around.

"My, my, Deputy Barnes," you said as he came up from behind you, already lighting a cigarette. "You clean up real nice."

"That's mighty kind of you," he responded in a low purr as he passed you and went to the kitchen to grab a glass and get some water from the sink. He was going to say something else when he "accidentally" spilled it all over the little island counter, cursing under his breath while apologizing for being so clumsy.

You jumped at the opportunity to clean it up for him--you know, like how a good wife would do. He pretended to insist that you're a guest, blah blah blah then he paused. He took a step back and watched you work. Intentional or not... this was exactly like how he envisioned one of many possibilities.

He took a drag and puffed out the smoke before putting it back between his lips. "Keep doin' what you're doin'," he said with pure hunger in his eyes. He slowly rounded the counter and stood behind you, taking another drag. Your panties could not get any more soaked at his proximity. You knew what he was doing. What he was going to do. So, you kept on wiping. Even though all the water was cleaned up.

"Just like that," he murmured as he flipped up your dress and dragged his free hand down his face. Jesus fuckin' Christ. He hooked a finger around the band, playing with it a little before dragging them down your legs and watching the fabric pool at your feet. He watched you clench around nothing and this really just confirmed you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

He unzipped his slacks and dragged the tip along your folds just to hear you whine, see your knees buckle. A dark chuckle left him as he took another drag, sliding in slowly and carefully. Savor the moment. More for him than you. And comfortability or whatever.

"I'll be damned," he said as you held him snug with a breathy moan, taking him like a champ. The sounds were disgustingly sweet and he hasn't even started fucking you yet. "Keep wipin'... good girl."

Your pussy had an iron grip on him the second he bottomed out and a whimper left your lips. His praise, his authority, his voice, his- God damn it, it's everything!

"I know, honey," he said after blowing smoke in the other direction and started thrusting at a steady pace, "I know it's big. But you can take it, right?"

You couldn't respond immediately, having to pause on pretending to wipe down the counter because your mind was buzzing. But the Deputy don't take too kindly to feeling ignored. A medium hard smack met your ass to jolt you back to reality with a yelp. "I asked you a question, girl."

"I can take it," you replied with your knees touching and panting as your body tingled all over. He soothed where he hit and gripped your hip to brace himself and pick up the pace.

"Damn right, you will."

You braced yourself against the counter as he started to really move, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The obscene sound of skin on skin filled the kitchen as he fucked you hard and fast, just like you knew he would. How you dreamed he would.

"Keep wipin'." he grunted with the cigarette between his lips. But, again, it was extremely difficult to focus with a dick size you were new to sliding in and out of you at a harsh pace. An even harsher man behind you. He said your name in warning, making you grab the rag again but that's all you did. Grip it for dear life. "You ain't listenin' to me?"

He stopped abruptly, fully inside you and sent a stinging sensation through your body, a loud groan of pain and pleasure ripping from your throat. He took another drag and finally out the cig out on a nearby tray before fiddling with his utility belt. You were slumped into the counter. Legs shaking and body aching. He pulled out and spun you around, taking a second to appreciate the fucked-out look on your face. Your wrists were cuffed in front of you then he proceeded to lift you into the counter. Everything was happening so fast you just went along with it. Your arms were pressed to your chest and he slid back into you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your head hit the counter with a soft thud while he continued to use you like a doll made for his pleasure alone. He hovered over you and licked his lips at the sight of your contorted face and the sounds of you not holding back your moans any longer.

"Pussy's all mine, ain't it?" he panted. "You oughta be ashamed of yourself, pretty girl. Askin' to be ruined at an officers home with just them eyes. I should give you my babies just to teach you a lesson."

You don't say anything because your climax was near, but you heard everything. While you want to dare him to cum inside you, you still had a future to think about and your mom would have your head.

"Gettin' close," he gritted, pounding you without a care in the damn world. "Should make you my pretty little housewife," he strained as he chased his high. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes!" you cried out brokenly and nodded frantically. Then, that coil in you unraveled and popped, making you see stars. Your cum leaked down onto the counter and some got on his pants. He chased that peak with three more thrusts then pulled out just in time. He came on your stomach, some getting on your dress, but you didn't care. He exhaled deeply and leaned on the counter as he pulled his pants back up, not even bothering to zip them up again.

He thought about how eagerly you wanted to impress him and how you indirectly agreed to be his "pretty little housewife." He said that just to say it, but...perhaps it was something to think about. But now was not that time as he checked the clock. He un-cuffed you and helped you down, watching you wobble and lean on the counter for support. With a pat to your butt, he pressed a kiss to your cheek before briefly gesturing to you and the counter, heading to his room.

Three hours until your shift ends. You were lucky you're a bartender veteran at this point because of all the personalities that walk through that door. You knew summer was about to begin with the sounds of motorbikes speeding through nearly every road in Baltimore. It was a custom, really. The second that air went past 68°, here came the loud engines coming to a halt right outside the bar you work at. Thank goodness this was the county and not the inner city, so the patrons were a little more diverse than groups of noisy, weed smelling rascal teenagers trying to impress grown ass women.

You're wiping down the bar counter when you look out the window and see the evening coloring the skies. It was gorgeous. Nothing beat watching the sun go down through the fingerprint-smudged glass you told your younger coworkers to clean up six times today. There were still some stragglers who were either alone or small groups of two or three hanging out by the jukebox.

When you started to organize some of the bottles behind you, in came that recognizable sound of the lively Baltimore County police unit that didn't go a day without stopping by. You gave them a smile as they greeted you--first name basis, some nicknames here and there--when your eye caught the newbie. You didn't recognize him but you made eye contact like you knew him for years.

"Alright, boys," you tapped the counter as they congregated in front you like anticipating kids, "who's the hotshot tonight?"

The new guy stood in between two of them before pulling out a hundred dollar bill and sliding it towards you with a smile.

"That would be me."

You caught his eye as you grabbed the bill and put it in the register.

"Alright then," you said with an impressed smile. "Payin' customer goes first. Pick your poison." you added while gesturing to the big wall of alcoholic choices. Pretty nifty for a corner bar.

He looked at the wall of alcohol as if it were the toughest decision of his life. He looked directly at you, examining your face and taking in your features. Then his gaze landed on the name tag pinned to your chest.

"Well," he began, stating your name while holding back a smile, "what would you recommend?"

"Hm...for you? Easily a neat whiskey sour to start. I did the same for these knuckleheads here and they haven't changed their selections since."

Two of the guys David came in with audibly agreed and clapped him on the back.

"I guess I'll take a whiskey sour," he said with that award winning smile and leaned on the counter, watching you prepare it with ease.

"Make that five," another officer, Mikey, chimes in. You gave him a look while shaking up the drink but don't say anything. He belly laughs and puts his hands up. "Please."

"There we go," you said as you poured David's drink and got out five other glasses.

"She's a tough cookie," Mikey leaned over to mutter to David. "Heartbreaker, too."

David furrowed his brows. "Aren't you like 50?"

"42. Asshole," Mikey huffed and playfully shoved David's shoulder. "And your point?"

"My point is she doesn't look a day over 26," he replied, "you're the last one to be calling someone a heartbreaker."

"Hey, can ya blame a guy for trying?"

"Uh, yeah. I can."

Mikey rolled his eyes before grabbing his glass and settling down a few seats away to talk to the other guys. David took a swig as he shook his head, turning his attention back to you making the other glasses.

"So," he says, you look over at him pre-amused, "how long have you been bartending here?"

"Seven years," you replied, sliding the other drinks over, "my aunt owns the place and she didn't let me bartend until I turned 23--hence the seven years. I was waitressing here when I was around 16, though."

"That's cool," he said with an impressed nod. "I've always had a special type of respect for bartenders. You're all like anthropologists or something. Being so good at reading people."

You chuckled and tucked your small towel in your belt, "You could say that," you muse. "It's an art, really. And, in this business, ya kinda have to be able to know who's coming through that door everyday. Otherwise you're just not good at your job."

He hums, intrigued as he takes a seat. Full attention on you. "Tell me more."

Right as you were about to continue, two more customers walked in, immediately recognizing you. You tapped the counter and winked at David before going to serve them. He watched you the entire time. Lively and social as ever like you knew these people personally. They came in looking a little down, but were now beaming because of you. And that's when that funny feeling in his chest started to arise.

Damn it. He just met you.

"Holler if ya need me!" you waved them off before they went to chill in a booth near the jukebox. You came back over and already started grabbing some beer off the shelf. David gave a slightly confused look before three of the guys he came with reached out towards to grab them. All that was said were casual thank-yous before they turned back to their conversation about a particularly crazy drug bust on Liberty.

"So, as I was saying," you said while leaning on your elbow, "knowing every regular face here is an art form. Being born and raised in this little city, ya have to know people. Bartending in this little city? It's like having a hundred cousins."

"One hundred cousins," he repeated in amused disbelief.

"You heard me."

"So, what about these knuckleheads here?"

"I didn't say everybody earned that title."

That got a genuine laugh out of him. You're witty. He likes that. He took another swig with a satisfied hum. "This is a damn good whiskey sour."

You shrug with a growing smile. "Hasn't failed me yet."

"You guys get any regular talent here?"

"Oh, do we?" you stood up straight and planted both hands down, looking him in those pretty blue eyes that had your pulse jump for a split second. "All types. Rappers, singers, dancers, musicians, theatre kids, wannabe directors, comedians, anything under the sun."

"Yeah?" now he seemed even more interested. "Anybody actually make it big?"

"That I can't say. I never really got to keep up with them. Well, there's this one girl that was on a TV show a few years back. She came here a few times to practice her craft. Oh, and another rapper whose name I'm forgetting but also on the same show. But there's Rico Nasty, who's the biggest name that started out in a place like this. That's all I can think of off the top of my head."

His brows raised and he tapped his glass in thought. "Huh," he said, "so this place must be the goldmine for underground talent."

"On occasion, yeah..." you thought out loud. "But there's also the occasional ones who, uh...suck."

"Shit, I didn't even think about that." he laughed to himself before finishing the rest of his drink.

"Another one?" you asked while pointing to the empty cup. You were like a machine when it came to this sort of thing.

"Mm...a coke and a beer is fine for now."

"You got it. Cup or bottle?"

David thought for a few seconds.

"Surprise me."

You pulled out a bottle of coke and a bottle of beer cause he just seemed like that kind of guy.

"Thoughts?"

"Perfect." he said before you handed him the drinks. "Tell me about the worst talent you've ever had while working here."

"Oof, well," you began, "there's one guy who comes in every two Saturdays specifically at 6pm and sings the same song every. Single. Time."

"Damn, that...is crazy," he said. "Let me guess, he's not on the road to being the next MJ?"

"He's not even the next Milo Stanton."

"Who?"

"Exactly."

One of the other customers that came in earlier called you over so you excused yourself once more.

The Friday night rush was just about over. The other cops left, but not without their little remarks about you two. It's true he's been eyeing you most of the night. Trying to play it cool especially when he barely drank that much compared to them--using up that hundred real quick.

He finally finished his fourth beer while you were wiping down the counter. A quick glance his way and a shake of your head, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

"What?"

"You know it's closing time, right?"

"So I've heard."

"And... you're still here."

"That is also true."

You tossed the mini towel in a bin nearby and left the bar to start stacking chairs.

"Gonna help or just sit there trying to read my mind?"

David sighed dramatically but was quick to get up and help stack some chairs. "I wasn't trying to read your mind," he says, " I'm just...fascinated by you is all."

"Fascinated?" you inquired while putting up two more and heading back to the bar.

"I know it sounds, like, corny, but I'm serious. I don't go to the bar that often and even when I do I've never had a conversation longer than my order followed by my gratitude."

"Huh," you leaned on the counter, eyes narrow. "Are you flirting with me right now?"

"Is it working?"

You pause. "No."

"Then, no," he shrugged with a small smile. Damn those dimples. "I wouldn't wanna break Mikey's heart."

"Oh my God," your head hung low as you laughed. Genuinely laughed. "He told you? That's ballsy."

"He was looking out for me. Said you're a heartbreaker."

"He's smart," you say with a sigh as you glanced at the register. "I gotta close up shop."

"No problem," he slid on his jacket and headed for the exit. "I'll wait outside."

"You don't have to do that," you said. Not that you didn't trust him since he came with guys you know; cops. You didn't want to inconvenience him.

"I know," he said, flashing a softer smile this time as he left. You sigh again and start counting the money. Mind running rampant. He's cute, you thought. Whatever he was doing was, in fact, working. But you couldn't afford to be going all in and jump the gun like you did seven years ago with your boyfriend at the time. You looked at him like he hung the moon, and you paid the price. He wasn't a bad man, just wasn't ready for a child, and you had to make that decision the night she was born.

Not to mention that's usually a huge turn off for some of the men you encountered in the mean time.

You locked the door behind you then saw him standing a few feet to your left, typing away on his phone.

"Another day complete," you said. He looked up and smiled again. "I'm sure you have a hell of a day ahead of you in the morning."

"I do, yeah..." he pauses, "but I just, uh...I was going to say not all restaurants are closed yet."

Bold, David. Real bold.

"I dunno- I haven't had dinner yet, so it could be just the hunger talking for me-"

"You just met me, uh-"

"David."

"David," you repeated his name, "And I thought you said you weren't flirting with me."

"I was just making a mere suggestion."

"You normally ask your local bartenders on a date after their shift?"

"What if I said yes?"

"I'd say you're crazy."

"Then, yes."

You stare at him before letting out a huff of laughter. "You are a trip."

"Speaking of trips..." he hinted. You cleared your throat and got a little more serious.

"While that sounds fun," you began, "I should head home. To my daughter."

His eyebrows shot up for a moment in shock. Uh oh. That was for sure the nail in the coffin.

"Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Totally understandable," he said--and now he was the one clearing his throat. "When's the next time you work?"

You... were not expecting that.

"Um...Monday afternoon...But we're closing early for the holiday."

"Works for me."

"Wait- what works for you?"

"Oh- my bad. I should've asked first. Would you be available to go on an actual date after work?"

You blinked. Twice.

"David-"

"Too forward?"

"No, it- ...no, it should work fine. I just didn't know cops could take holidays."

"It's a whole scheduling thing, I'll be fine. I can't pass up another good conversation with you."

"Wow."

"Yeah, that might've been overkill."

"No, no-"

"-like I already got the 'yes' to the date and I'm just- I am hungry and sleepy."

"You sure you'll be alright to drive home?"

"Aw, worried about me already?"

You playfully rolled your eyes before pulling out your car keys. "Go home, David."

"You too," he said your name and pulled out his own keys. "Safely."

"Just had to one up me?" you jokingly said in offensive over your shoulder.

"I'm getting you used to it!" he called out as he watched you wave goodbye and head for the parking garage. He wasn't sure how he'd manage getting to you on time given his actual schedule, but he was determined to make it happen. There was just something about you that made him want to keep coming back. Finding out you have a kid was a little shocking, but only because you didn't have that vibe. Let alone look that old. But, hey. Shit happens and that wasn't going to steer him away from getting to know you.

He also didn't miss how you tensed up a bit when mentioning your daughter and he made it his mission to not make a big deal. And maybe, just maybe you'd deem him worth your time.

"How old is she?"

"Seven," you said while eating a fry. He hummed in thought. You could tell he was trying to do math and make guesses in his head. "I'm 30."

"Ah," he mused, "A year older than me."

"That a problem?"

"Not at all. I'm into older women."

"Yeah? What if I wasn't into younger men?"

"Then it's good to know before I spend 86 bucks."

You laugh, he smiles. He likes your laugh.

"You're quick."

He shrugs coolly. "It's apart of the job."

"Of a first date?"

"Being a cop."

"Mm. What's that like? I imagine you've done work in the city too."

"Not easy, but I love it. Figuring people out and approaching different situations in different ways is probably my favorite part of the job."

"Really? Not the drug busts or making the streets a little safer?" you teased.

"Baltimore and safe in the same sentence?"

"Hey! I'll have you know I live in a nice neighborhood."

"Yeah, thanks to me."

"Right. Well, thank you for your service."

Your phone flashed with a notification, a text from your mom.

"Shit, it's getting late," you said.

He checked his watch and sighed softly. It was 9 already?

You were having a small conversation while waiting in line for checkout when it was your turn. A lady brought up a kid's meal and packed it with your leftovers.

"How much is that kids meal?" you ask.

"$6.97."

You reached for your purse when you saw him already handing his card to the cashier. Before it could hit the reader, you gently grabbed his wrist.

"Woah, woah, wait," you slightly panic, "I can't ask you to pay for my kid's food."

"I didn't think you were going to," he says. So chill. Like this was an everyday thing. "Seriously, it's fine. You can cover the tip."

You watch him pay with a subtle frown because you hated feeling indebted to people. After he paid, you gave a generous tip and grabbed your bag before heading out.

"What's your Venmo?"

He looks at you, confused. "Why?"

"So I can pay you back."

"It was a little over 30 bucks. It's not a dent in my pockets."

"I know, but-"

He stopped in his tracks and said your name, gripping your shoulders. "I don't need you to pay me back." he said slowly and firmly. You sigh and just accept his generosity.

"Is this some ploy to get into my pants?" you tease.

He cracked a smile and crossed his arms. "Is it working?"

"David."

"I joke, I joke. I had money to spend so why not, you know, spend it?"

"And you really don't want anything in return?"

"No. Well," he paused as his smile grew wider. "A second date would be nice."

You smile back and nod. "I can do that."

Weeks flew by. The second and third date went well. Not only did your respective coworkers keep commenting on your moods being particularly elevated throughout your shifts. David was oh so eager to tell you--vaguely--about a case he's been put on and you've been eager to tell him about the shenanigans that happen in and out the bar. Even your kid noticed your mood change, commenting on it the second you got home from your first date--in a long, long time.

He took you home after a night out since your car was in the shop and he wasn't going to let you go home alone on the bus. This is the first time he's been over. Your parents were watching your daughter as your mom insisted on you going out and having fun him, whom she exclusively calls "Dimples."

You busted out the wine that's been sitting in your cabinet for about two years, unopened. After a few glasses, he was impressed by your tolerance.

"I didn't think you could become any cooler."

"It's wine," you said with a small laugh.

"You'd be surprised."

You hummed and took another sip, setting it down on the counter before returning to the living room where he was standing and still checking out your home decor.

"Who made this?" he pointed to a small clay statue on your shelf.

You said your daughter's name fondly while walking up next to him. "I couldn't get her out of the dirt when she was a toddler."

"Means you're doing a great job," he said as he glanced at you.

"Letting my kid play in dirt?"

"Ten times better than an iPad. And is that not what we did as kids?"

"Touché."

There was a short beat of silence before he spoke up again.

"No judgement," he started, "could I ask what happened to the father?"

"It's nothing deep," you reply, honestly surprised it took him almost a month to ask. "He was a good guy. Just not ready to be a dad."

He stayed quiet for a few seconds. "I think he missed out."

"I'm actually kind of glad he's not in the picture."

That surprised him, but he let you continue.

"He was nice, but a big love-bomber and some of his priorities were questionable. Neither me nor my little girl need that kind of stress in our lives."

"You said she's seven?"

"Mhm."

"When's the last time you went out on a date?"

You didn't respond but he caught onto the context quickly.

"No way," he turned to face you, "Seven years?"

"Technically eight."

His eyes widened.

"I told you before. I have an example to set."

Those pearly blue eyes softened upon the sincerity in your voice. The respect he held for you was only growing by the day, and that was the icing on the cake. Willingly staying alone for almost a decade to be a role model for your kid. He can't even imagine.

"Well…what about now?" he asked softly, but didn't move just yet. "It's just us."

Goodness gracious.

"You raise a good point," you said. The air suddenly grew thicker and like time was slowing down. His eyes dropped to your lips and his hand slightly twitched before meeting your eyes again.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. You were completely speechless. So speechless all you could do was give a little nod.

There was no hesitation when he cupped your cheek and leaned in close. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He took it slow at first, caressing your cheekbone before both his hands slid down to your waist. You could feel yourself getting overwhelmed already. It's not like you were getting cold feet, but really it's just been that long. You nearly forgot what this was like. Genuine intimacy.

You both backed up to catch your breath, inches away from each other's face. He looked just as dazed as you and all you did was kiss. A phantom smirk appeared on his lips as he held you close.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Very," you said with a small smile and wrapped your arms around him. "Just know that I intend to take this slow." you added.

"Of course," he said while idly rubbing the small of your back, "you have an example to set."

You huffed and shook your head in amusement. "That also means we won't be doing anything further unless this is real. I have much more to lose this time around."

"You know, it's funny you say that because I've been trying to find the right moment to ask you a very important question."

He watched you tilt your head curiously, but it was obvious you knew what he was going to say next.

"I was wondering if…you would do me the honor of being my girlfriend."

Your smile grew wider as you kissed him again more eagerly this time. It quickly deepened and he pulled you flush against his chest, a surge sparking between your bodies. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him as embraced you like you were as delicate as a bouquet of flowers.

You found yourself getting lost in the moment, your body pressing urgently against his. It's been too long since you'd felt like this, so wanted, so desired. And as David's hands roamed over you, you couldn't help but feel like the only woman in the world.

You felt his breath hitch slightly as your fingers curled into his shirt. His pulse thumped he like a ran a mile and you were so close, it was almost like he could feel your heart beating. He slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you with a soft grunt, causing a soft gasp to escape you as you pulled back slightly.

"Which way is-"

"-That way," you breathlessly answered and pointed down the hall, "second door on the right."

Your back gently hit the soft blanket. He started to peel off his own clothes first and you just… watched. He had an athletic build. Not too much, but not too little either. Which would also describe the very clear bulge behind his zipper. He now stood in his boxers, hovering over you to peck you on the lips.

"Your turn."

You undressed with swiftness, kicking off your shorts and tossing your bra to the side with more impatience than anticipated. He sighed softly and licked his lips. Sheer disbelief on his face.

"I am so fuckin' glad I went to the bar that day."

He leaned down and slowly kissed your jaw, working his way down your body with intention. He took his time savoring every inch of exposed skin. His lips trailed down the column of your throat, pausing to nip and suck at your pulse point. You whined softly, tilting your head to give him better access.

His hands roamed all over you, mapping out the dips and swells of your body. Then he kissed down further, leaving a path of heat across your skin until he reached the curve of your breast. He paused there, his breath hot against your skin as he gazed up at you, seeking permission. You nodded and ran your hand over his hair, urging him towards your chest. He took the silent offer and captured your nipple between his lips, suckling and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

His other hand came up to knead the soft flesh and your head fell back against the mattress. A soft, needy moan escaped your lips. Your back arched off the bed. He hummed against your skin and unconsciously ground his hips against the foot of it. He released your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air across the damp skin before switching to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. This went on for a few more seconds before he heard your pleading whisper.

"David…"

"Hm?"

"Please-"

He released you again and looked up at you through his lashes. Your eyes still closed. "I thought we were taking it slow?"

"I change my mind," you replied with a quiet shudder. "I need it. Now."

There goes that stupid smile that made your heart thump. He hooked his index finger around the band of your panties before dragging them down your thighs. His bulge painfully stiff behind his boxers. Just the sight of your essence glistening between your legs was enough to send him over. He fished a condom from his pocket and put it on with urgency, not wanting to keep you waiting any longer.

"Someone was prepared," you tease, face still flushed, eyes still dazed. You clenched around nothing trying to stop yourself from staring right at his impressive size. He shrugged and hovered over you, placing tender kisses on your lips. He slowly pushed himself inside you, swallowing your whimpers and not paying any mind to your nails digging into his biceps.

"I had a good feeling this time around," he murmured.

As he bottomed out, he paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of your welcoming heat enveloping him, before starting to move. He set a slow, reasonable pace, his hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that had you writhing and taking short breaths.

He adjusted his position to grip your hips and pull you into each roll of his. Your body moved on instinct, hips lifting to meet his thrusts, chasing the building pleasure that coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach. You could feel everything with each stroke. He thoroughly enjoyed watching your tits bounce with each thrust before you reached out and pulled him back down chest to chest. Your nails raked his back with every increasingly deeper thrust. The only thing keeping you aware of your surroundings was the sound of your headboard softly hitting the wall.

"David-"

"I know," he muttered, increasing the pace as he chased and chased. You gently bit his shoulder as that coil was coming to a snap. "C'mon, baby. C'mon." he grunted. "Cum for me."

His movements became sharper and more precise as he got near to the edge. You could feel sparks fly as you came upon him hitting a certain angle, vision blurring for a second. You held him tight while your orgasm ran its course. Thighs trembling and your moans of ecstasy muffled by his shoulder.

David cursed and pulled out, quickly leaning up and pulling the condom off like it was choking him. He groaned and heaved as he pumped himself over your torso. Spurts of warm cum splaying across your sweaty, spent body. He let out a short array of whimpers at the sensation and how pretty you looked in this state.

"Fuck- fuck," he exhaled as the last drop came out. He leaned on the bed for support as you both calmed down and gathered your thoughts. After a few moments, he stood back up and looked down at you with…fondness. It was an honor he was the first man you actually chose to let into you and your kid's life. He could tell the path ahead of him was bright.