Someone led down this path. I start to run every scenario in my mind. What if it was a partner that turned on him, maybe a dirty cop? What if it was a female partner andtheygot too close? Why does that scenario gut me with a stab of jealousy?
“We were in the middle of doing a bust and my partner at the time was younger than me, a bit impulsive. He felt the backup was taking too long and thought that it would be better to do it then. One impulsive decision cost him his life, and me a bullet to my side. I remember I was yelling at him, trying to get him to come back before he busted down the door. It was a clean bullet to the head, and his blood on my hands,” his solemn look crushes me. It explains a lot with him, why he’s not fond of impulsive or explosive decisions.
He continues on, as I grasp his hand in mine, “The kid, I could have done more.” The guilt inside is still eating at him. He barely looks at me.
“Hey, you can’t do that. You did everything you could,” I squeezed his hand, “How long ago was this?”
“A few years back,” he says softly.
“You’ve been carrying around all this guilt. Keola, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I tried to console him.
“I could have been faster, I could have done a lot more,” his voice rises in anger.
Both my hands grab his face, turning it towards me. “Keola Eli, you’ve been carrying around too much guilt for a situation that may have been out of your hands. We can’t bring back the dead, but we can certainly protect the ones that are still here. I’m sorry that you went through that and I can only imagine what it has done with you ever since. But you listen to me, let it go. It has to be time,” I lean my forehead on his, breathing in his scent and his warmth. “And if it isn’t or you’re not ready, I’ll be here when you are.”
I may not know what we are now, but I’d like to consider him a friend. I don’t want to see my friends hurt. His eyes closed, taking a deep breath, like he’s trying to let go of the weight. After all this time I thought he was just grumpy from having a stick up his ass or something. But instead, he has a heart and it has been in pain. I know what that feels like and it’s hard to recover.
“Charlotte,” he says, his eyes still closed.
“Yeah. 5-0,” I giggle.
“You’re making it hard,” he growls.
“Um..” I start to babble. Making what hard? His dick? I mean, well shit I don’t know what I mean.
“You’re making it hard not to fall for you,” he says. Before I respond he captures my lips with need and possession. I drop my hands from his face to his neck, trying to latch on to something. He leaves me breathless, but gives me the air I need. I’m tempted to crawl into his lap. His hands scoop under me, grabbing my ass, releasing a small moan.
There, placed in his lap, I can feel something hard and poking my ass. Yet a small, brief intrusive thought comes through and I slowly grind in his lap, teasing, taunting him. His voice growls and trembles inside my mouth. His hands still on my ass squeezed harder and I began to wonder what it would feel like if he fulfilled his promise of painting my ass red.
He slips in his tongue to take control, giving us a taste. A taste of what may be to come. The moments passing by, in a blur, as if no one else is here. For once, my mind isn’t racing, isn’t wondering. If anything, I want more.
His hand travels my ass to the nape of my neck. “Angel, I’m not opposed to a little exhibitism, but not for the first time.” he murmurs between us.
I pull back, face flushed, heat spreading over my cheeks. This man is intoxicating, pulling me deeper and deeper. When he smiles you just want to melt and say thank you at the same time. The man strokes my hair, and I could just fall asleep. This is by no means a normal date, but between us, there is no normal.
“Are you hungry?” he looks at me, not wanting to let go.
I nod my head, still rendered speechless. He chuckles, “Words, Charlotte. You have to tell me what you want or else I’m not giving it to you.”
“Yeah. I could eat,” I try to sound nonchalant.
“What are you hungry for?” he asks, standing us up, taking my hand in his.
You’re dick.
Jesus, one passionate kiss and I turn into a horny bitch. One intrusive thought turns into another and I respond with, “A sausage.”
No more is the scowled face now it’s a bright smile that can’t contain his laughter, “ I’m sure we can find a big sausage for that appetite.”
And maybe me for dessert.I mentally shake my head, this is just a date to repay a debt in turn to find Cedric.
Between devouring street food and cozying up next to each other, the original goal fades in my mind. It isn’t until Keola takes us back to his place to grab his truck, partially because I don’t need to be an ice cube when I return home.
The rumble of his truck doesn’t compare to his motorcycle and part of me is missing it. He parks it by the corner of Cedric’s neighborhood. Small family homes line up the streets, a street lamp flickering also burning out, it’s enough to send chills down your spine. I keep staring at his house, seeing the front door cracked open from the invasion.
I wanted to go in, but Keola stopped me before going through with the idea.
“We don’t know what came back and if you think I’m letting you go in there, think again.”
