Tuff Enough

by Samantha A. Cole

  One of Tuff’s hands delved into Chet’s hair, drawing her closer, until his mouth smashed against hers. He teased, tasted, and tantalized her with his tongue and lips. His other arm went around her back, squeezing her until her chest crushed against his. Chet moaned as her nipples hardened even further. The bulge in his pants told her he was just as aroused as she was. She ground her pussy against his cock, soliciting a moan from him.

  Putting her hands against his shoulders, she pushed away and climbed off his lap onto her knees in front of him. Heat flared in his eyes as her hands went to the waistband of his shorts. “You don’t have to do that, my sweet Concetta.” She knew he was referring to a blowjob—he was giving her an out if she was uncomfortable with giving him one—but there was no mistaking the anticipation and need in his voice.

  “But I want to.” That was no lie—Chet had been dreaming of him fucking her mouth, as well as her pussy, for days. She made quick work of the snap and zipper, eliciting a hiss from him when her fingers brushed against the satiny tip of his hard shaft.

  His eyelids fluttered shut as his hips bucked. “God, yes, baby. Touch me, please!”

  It was a heady feeling knowing she could make this gorgeous hulk of a man beg. He lifted his hips and helped her push his shorts and boxer briefs down past his knees. His erection bounced against his abdomen, and she took a moment to admire it. Like the man it was attached to, his cock was a thing of beauty. She wrapped her hand around its girth, watching as pre-cum wept from the slit.

  Tuff’s hand plunged into her hair again, and she lifted her gaze. His nostrils flared, and his jaw was as stiff as his cock. She knew he was holding back, letting her take the lead, not wanting to push her too quickly. Well, he had nothing to worry about; she was completely on board with how fast tonight was going.

  Tilting his dick toward her, she leaned down and licked the tip. The hand in her hair tightened, lighting up the nerves in her scalp, but Tuff still didn’t take control. She wondered how long he would hold out. This was a man who needed to dominate his sexual encounters, she was sure of it, yet his restraint made her want to push him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Her gaze shifted to the side where his other hand was clutching the couch’s armrest. His knuckles were white.

  “Lick me again, baby. Take me into your mouth.”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice. Opening wide, she gave the thick vein on the underside of his cock a swipe of her tongue, before closing her lips around the tip and sucking it into her mouth.

  “Damn! Oh, shit, don’t stop! Mmm, yeah, do that again—just like that.” His thin thread of control was slipping, and the hand on her head began to apply pressure, indicating the pace he wanted her to set. His other hand left the couch and reached out to tease her nipple. A jolt of electricity went straight to her core when he rolled and pulled on the taut peak.

  Chet moaned around the hard flesh she was laving and sucking on, then took it to the back of her throat and swallowed. The hand in her hair tightened again as Tuff growled. “Fuck! Let go, woman. If you keep that up, things will be over far too soon.”

  With a grin, she gave his cock one last swipe before releasing it. “Can’t let that happen, now can we?”

  Tucking his hands under her shoulders, he helped her to her feet. There was no mistaking the lust in his eyes as he kicked off his sneakers, shorts, and briefs. “Damn straight. I plan on making you cum a few times before that happens. Take off those shorts and get up here—stand on the couch. Straddle my hips and put your hands against the wall to steady yourself.”

  Wide-eyed, she did as she was told, not sure what he planned on doing. Once she was in place, she didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. Tuff clutched her hips and pulled them toward him. Leaning his head back against the couch, he settled her pussy over his mouth. Oh, God!

  His stiff, wet tongue flattened against her labia and licked relentlessly. Thank goodness she had the support of the wall and his strong arms because otherwise she would have collapsed from the sheer pleasure he was giving her. His big hands kneaded her ass cheeks, alternating between separating them and mashing them together. His tongue whipped her clit in lashes that drove her crazy. It felt so good but wasn’t enough to make her climax. Chet bent her knees, grinding herself against his mouth while begging for more, just as Tuff had done moments earlier. “Oh, please! More! Please, more! Ah! Ohhhh! Shit! Please!”

  Bringing one hand around, he ran his fingers through her drenched folds, then thrust them inside without warning.

  “Shit! Oh, God! Jason!”

  His answer was to increase his sensual torture. He sucked on her clit as he finger-fucked her. Chet’s legs shook as he drove her higher and higher. She tilted forward, her knees touching the back of the couch by Tuff’s ears. She had nothing to hold onto—she could only lean her head and hands against the wall.

  “Play with your tits, my sweet bomboncita.”

  Glancing down, she saw his hungry gaze on her, the lower half of his face was hidden from view as he went back to feasting on her. Leaving the top of her head against the wall as support, she reached down and plucked her nipples, rolling and pulling on them the way he’d done earlier. He now had three fingers in her pussy as his teeth and tongue played with her clit. His other hand snaked between her legs and gathered up some of her cream before returning to the crack of her ass. Chet tensed. She’d never had a man touch her there before.

  “Relax, baby. It’s not going to hurt. I’m just going to rim this pretty hole and stimulate you a bit. I won’t try to enter you. We’ll save that for another time. Just relax and feel.”

  “The feel part I can dooooo,” she moaned as he put just a little pressure on her asshole and sucked on her clit at the same time. His fingers between her legs never stopped fucking her. “Oh, Dios mío! But I’m sssstrung too tight to r-relax. Oh! Please, Jason!”

  “Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”

  Damn, he was the chattiest guy during sex she’d ever been with. Most of the men she’d dated, including her ex-husband, had just wanted to get on with it. Then again, none of them had ever had her stand over them on the couch while they tortured her with their fingers, mouths, tongues, and teeth.

  “Concetta, tell me. Do you want me to slow down?”

  “Oh, God, don’t you dare!” She was almost there. Just a little more.

  “Then tell me what you want, baby. Say it.”

  “Oh, damn it!” she cried out on a sob. “Please, let me cum!”

  Again, his response was non-verbal. He stroked inside her, faster, harder. The finger at her back hole teased just enough to get her attention. But what sent her over was when Tuff sucked her clit between his teeth and lightly bit down. “Ahhhhhhh! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, shit!”

  Her whole body shook and the only reason she didn’t fall was because Tuff’s hand left her ass and wrapped around her, clutching her opposite hip and holding her in place. His mouth and fingers drew out her orgasm until she finally sagged against the wall.

  Somehow Tuff lowered her to the couch and crawled on top of her. His erection nestled against her pussy, but he didn’t thrust inside her. Instead, he turned his attention to her nipples, laving one and then the other. Chet hadn’t thought it was possible, but she began climbing the cliff of ecstasy again. Never in her life had she had multiple orgasms this close together, but, then again, never in her life had she been with a man like Tuff. He was so attentive to her needs and desires, putting his own on hold. He’d said he wanted to give her several orgasms before experiencing his own, and she’d thought it was just something he’d spouted out during foreplay. But now she knew he’d not only been serious but confident he could follow through with his statement.

  As he leaned on his forearms above her, his hips pumped, rubbing his cock over her sensitive clit. The next orgasm hit her without warning, and she screamed his name as wave after wave crashed over her. In a fog, she barely registered Tuff retrieve a condom from his discarded sho
rts and roll it onto his stiff shaft. Leaning down, he brushed his lips across hers. “Last chance to back out, Concetta. I want you so fucking bad right now, but, if it’s not what you want, tell me now and I’ll go take care of things in the shower.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare, Tuff.” She lifted her pelvis to his. “I want you too. Now!”

  “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Damn straight,” she said with a grin, repeating his words from earlier.

  He lined the tip of his cock with her slit, then eased inside. Chet’s passage welcomed him as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Tuff’s eyes slammed shut, his body tensed with restraint. “Shit! You’re so fucking tight—like a glove. So hot and wet.”

  “Don’t hold back.” Biting her lip, she dug her heels into his ass, urging him on.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

  Chet shook her head back and forth on the couch cushion. “You’re not. You’re driving me crazy!”

  One, two more thrusts and he was balls deep inside her. He held himself there. “One sec, honey, otherwise I won’t last.”

  She gave him more than “one sec,” but no more than five before she clenched around him in her core. “Please! I need you to move.”

  Retreating, he plunged back in, setting a slow pace that soon started a third orgasm building inside her. Holy shit! This one wasn’t the fast rush of the one before it, but a slow, lazy trip, higher and higher to where she would fly once again.

  Putting most of his weight on one arm, he used the fingers of the opposite hand to pinch her nipple. The pleasure/pain shot through her, sending her tumbling into an abyss. His pubic bone bounced off her clit, prolonging her climax. “That’s it, baby. Take me with you.”

  With one final thrust, Tuff came with a growling roar. Moments later, he collapsed on top of her. She welcomed the solid weight of him, despite the fact they were both gasping for oxygen.

  Tuff gently kissed her temple, and Chet tried to ignore how the simple gesture made her heart expand. Damn it! Stop falling for him! Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Three weeks later . . .

  Chet opened her work locker and found the bottle of Tylenol she kept there just in case she got a headache. And, boy, did she have one now, and the day had barely started. Day five of training the new guy, and she was going nuts. Twenty-four-year-old Leo Price was a nice enough kid, but he never shut up! Never! There had been times during the past week when Chet had just wanted to yell, “Shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes!” It was almost like having a six-year-old in the vehicle with her, asking why questions, one after the other. Then when he wasn’t asking questions, he was droning on and on about one hobby or another, a life experience, something he’d read, or any other thing that’d popped into his mind. Thank God all next week he’d be over at the police academy, going through the firearms training with the new TPD recruits. She’d get a five-day reprieve—nine with the two weekends thrown in there—to try and recover her sanity.

  At least she had something to look forward to. Tuff was getting home tomorrow, sometime around noon, from the out-of-town assignment he was on. He’d texted her last night to see if she wanted to go to a new movie they both had been looking forward to seeing. The friends with benefits arrangement they’d started had strengthened the “friendship” part of their relationship. They’d started to hang out together more often. Twice they’d taken Meat to visit a dog-friendly section of the beach on the Gulf, another time they’d gone out for pizza and a beer, while a few nights they’d shared cooking and cleaning duties at her place. Most of those times they’d ended up in bed together, and holy hell, did that man know how to please a woman, or what? With Tuff, multiple orgasms had become a regular occurrence for Chet.

  While the sex was amazing, and she loved hanging out with him, Chet knew she was going to have to end it soon. Her heart was way too involved now—she hadn’t been able to help it. She was falling in love with a man who’d made it clear he didn’t feel the same. Whenever they’d had sex, he’d stayed for a little bit afterward, cuddling and talking, but after she’d fallen asleep in his arms, he’d extricated himself and gone back to his own place. Each time, Chet woke up alone, feeling disappointed, but she wasn’t ready to let go of him and go back to being just friends yet. A few more days, maybe a few more weeks, then she’d have to extricate herself from their sex life—it was the only way to stop her heart from being ripped to shreds when he decided it was time to move on. Hopefully, she hadn’t passed that point already—dream on, Chet.

  Popping two caplets into her mouth, Chet washed them down with the iced coffee she’d picked up on her way into work. After closing her locker, she headed for the door. She wanted to make sure Meat was comfortable in Des’s office before her shift started—he was one of the few men the dog appeared comfortable with.

  Poor Meat. He’d had his teeth cleaned and an abscess on his gums removed the other day and was still taking pain meds. When Chet had picked him up from the vet, he’d still been loopy from the anesthesia and had been so damn cute, walking like a drunken sailor. She’d ended up sending Tuff a video of him in the backyard through Messenger, and he’d responded:

  “Bwahahahaha. Too cute. Give the poor guy an ear scratch from me.”

  Texting back and forth with Tuff was another thing Chet would have to curb. It was becoming too natural to want to tell him everything that happened throughout her day—whether it was good or bad. She had plenty of friends, but for some reason, Tuff was the first person she texted about anything lately. He called and texted her often as well, especially if he was out of town. She knew he was worried about her, but since Terry and Megan’s funeral, nothing had happened to the other fight club dogs still being fostered through several rescue groups. It probably helped that the suspected leader of the gang, Jose Martinez, was behind bars again. He’d been released on bail for the list of charges that had stemmed from the raid on his home, but two weeks ago, he’d been arrested again on drug charges. Chet hoped the bastard would stay in jail until his trial. Unfortunately, the police hadn’t been able to connect Martinez to the dognappings or the murders of Terry and Megan. As it stood now, they believed the latter was either a road rage thing or a case of mistaken identity. As for the dognappings, they were pretty sure Martinez was involved, and had also been responsible for the vandalism of Chet’s SUV, but again, without proof, they couldn’t charge him with any of that.

  As Leo exited the men’s locker room and spotted her striding down the hallway, Chet sighed inwardly. Her trainee grinned. “Morning, Chet, whatta we doin’ today?”

  “I’ll meet you at the truck in a few minutes—you can start the equipment checklist. We’ve got a bunch of follow-up calls to deal with.”

  A flash of disappointment appeared on the younger man’s freckled face before disappearing again. Chet had quickly learned Leo preferred active rescue or intervention calls rather than ones just requiring paperwork and interviews. Suck it up, buttercup. Grunt work is part of every freaking job, even this one.

  After checking on Meat and being reassured Des would take good care of him again today, Chet helped Leo finish making sure their truck had all the equipment they might need during the day. Even though the ACOs were supposed to replenish supplies before the end of their shift, they still had a checklist that needed to be completed each morning.

  Climbing into the driver’s seat, Chet started the vehicle just as the dashboard police radio squelched. “Headquarters to ACO-7.”

  Before she could reach for the transmitter, Leo enthusiastically snatched it from its perch and responded, “ACO-7.”

  “ACO-7, need you to respond to 1598 Kaufman Drive and assist officers there. They’re out with an elderly party who fell, but her German Shepard isn’t letting them in the house to help her.”

  “Not again,” Chet groaned as she put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking spot. “Tell them
our ETA is five minutes.”

  “ACO-7 to headquarters, we copy that. ETA is five minutes.”

  “Ten-four,” the dispatcher acknowledged.

  Twenty minutes later, the elderly woman was en route to the ER with a broken arm and a deep laceration on her forehead that would require stitches, while her German Shepard, George, was in one of the ACO truck’s kennels. The dog had calmed down once he’d spotted a familiar face and allowed Chet to open the front door and attach a leash to his collar. She’d then taken him outside so EMS could tend to his mistress. Mrs. Kensington was a sweet lady, but this was the eighth or ninth call for assistance in the past three months at the address. Unfortunately, she’d been resisting her family’s request that she move into an assisted living facility. She wouldn’t be allowed to bring George due to his size—smaller dogs and cats were allowed. As she’d done in the past, Chet drove the dog to a local Camp Bow Wow. Mrs. Kensington’s son, who had a thirty-minute drive to the ER from work, would pick the dog up later.

  As soon as they radioed the dispatcher that they were back in service, Chet and Leo were dispatched to a loose dog complaint. Chet got the impression it was going to be one of those days when they worked their tails off—pun intended. At least it would keep her mind off Tuff and the inevitable countdown toward the end of their FWB relationship.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Striding down the hallway on the tenth floor of a downtown Miami office building, where an asset was in a secure conference room one floor above, Tuff checked each door knob, assuring himself they were all still locked. It was after 2:00 p.m. on a Saturday, and the seventh through eleventh floors were empty except for security—the computer company’s own staff and the men from Blackhawk—and the eight people in the closed-door meeting. The six members of Tuff’s team didn’t know what new software or hardware was being discussed nor the dollar amounts negotiated—it was probably well over $1 million—but it really didn’t matter to them. All that did matter was making sure their Chinese client was returned to his private jet at the end of the meeting without being harmed. Many times, Tuff wondered if anyone really had some of their assets in their crosshairs for one reason or another, but the team still had to be ready for anything.