Coming Home Duet

by Cameron Hart

  I’m vaguely aware of someone asking me if I want to be seated. I request the back booth, one that I know isn’t in her section, but that will give me a view of her as she works. Thus, solidifying my stalker status. I ask for coffee and a piece of pie and to be left alone. I feel a little bad about being a jerk, but I’ll make up for it with a good tip.

  Watching her over the next hour is the sweetest kind of torture. I long to talk to her, to hear her sweet voice, to get her to show me her brilliant smile. I want to run my hands all over her small body and memorize her curves with my tongue. I want my ring on her finger and my baby in her belly. But for now, I like just watching her.

  As a detective, I’m good at picking up on people’s tells and body language. I’m skilled at reading between the lines and hearing what people aren’t saying as much as what they are saying.

  From the first time I met her, which was only yesterday even though it feels like a lifetime ago, I knew that she was strong. Skittish, yes, but able to hold her ground when necessary. I could tell she liked to keep people at arms' length and played her cards close to her chest. But I also experienced her vulnerability yesterday. Even though she’d deny it, I knew she trusted me for a brief second to take care of her.

  Seeing her today, I begin to pick up on other things. Emma well-liked by her co-workers who share little inside jokes with her. She’s cool under pressure, like when that asshole lady treated her like shit and then stiffed her on the tip. Emma took it all in stride.

  She’s also a bleeding heart, which is an unexpected layer for someone with such strong defenses. I saw her count out her tips and fold half of them up, sticking them in the apron of a very pregnant, very young waitress when she wasn’t looking. Every new thing I learn about Emma makes me crave more.

  Finally, I hear someone call Emma back for her break. This is my chance. I lay two twenties down on the table and follow a few steps behind Emma to what I’m assuming is their break room.

  I see her walk down a hallway and slip into a small room. I’m close behind, pushing the door open even more to accommodate me. Only, I severely underestimated how small the room was. The door hits Emma, knocking her off balance. I reach out and grab her hips before she falls face-first on the hard tile. I pull her up and hold her against my chest, her back to my front.

  “Oh my God!” She shrieks. She hasn’t turned around yet, so she doesn’t know I’m the one who caught her.

  I bend my head down so my lips are mere inches away from the shell of her ear. “I’ve got you little one,” I say in a low voice.

  Her breath catches in her throat and I can see her pulse speeding up in her neck. I hope it’s because she’s as turned on as I am, and not because she’s afraid of me for being a fucking creeper.

  “Hot Cop?” She asks all breathily and sexy as fuck. I can’t help the smirk that takes over my face at her nickname for me.

  Emma buries her face in her hands, clearly embarrassed at her words. I turn her around and gently remove her hands, turning them over and kissing the palm of each one.

  “Wh…what are you doing?” She asks. I can feel her racing pulse in her wrists as I set them at her sides.

  Cupping the back of her neck with one hand, I pull her close and press my forehead against hers. She doesn’t resist, which gives me hope.

  “We need to talk, dandelion. But first, I need to do this.”

  Tilting her head up with the hand at the back of her neck, I crash my lips down on hers. The world stops spinning. My heart stops beating. My lungs stop pulling in air. We’re frozen in time, in space, in each other. Emma gasps, and then it’s like everything moves in double time to catch back up.

  My tongue is in her mouth. Her hands pull my hair. My teeth scrape down her neck. Her pussy grinds against me. My hands slide up her shirt. Her head falls back in a silent scream.

  Emma grips my shoulders and climbs me like a fucking tree. I grab her ass and lift her up, turning us around and pinning her to the door. Her thighs tighten around me as she continues to rub her hot pussy up and down my achingly hard cock.

  I deftly pop open the button of her shorts and shove my hand into her panties. She’s fucking soaked for me. Finding her tight ball of nerves, I begin rubbing it furiously. I swallow her little whimpers each time her clit gets the friction it needs. Her fingernails dig into my biceps and I growl against the sharp pain that intensifies the pleasure. Emma throws her head back, hitting it against the door.

  “Careful, little one,” I grumble against her skin as I suck and nibble at her neck.

  And then the intensity speeds time up again.

  Her hips move faster. I shove two fingers into her tight, wet hole. Her breaths turn ragged. My cock starts leaking into my pants. Her hips lift to angle me deeper. My fingers twist inside of her. Her muscles tense. My mouth covers hers as I press my thumb to her clit, swallowing her cries as her orgasm roars through her tiny body.

  “That’s it, baby. Cum for me. This little pussy is mine now. Do you understand?” I growl as I continue to pump my fingers in and out of her, curling them up to prolong her pleasure. I stare at her beautiful face, savoring the look of pure ecstasy. She nods at my words and I claim her lips again, unable to stay away from her sinful mouth.

  I tear my lips from hers and lick the salty sweat from her neck before sinking my teeth into the exposed skin of her shoulder. She bites her lips to keep from screaming as she cums again.

  I pull my hand out of her shorts and lick my fingers clean.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  Best thing I’ve ever tasted.

  Emma’s limbs go limp in my arms and I reluctantly slide her down my body, still holding her close as she gains her footing. She struggles to catch her breath. I love knowing that I did this to her. I gave her pleasure. I left her breathless.

  “More, please…” She says after she catches her breath.

  “Fuck, sweetheart. I shouldn’t.”

  “Please? I need…you.” She whispers the last word.

  I look into her stunning blue eyes and see the truth of her words. She really does need me. It’s more than a physical lust, it’s the intimacy of being with someone this way. I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve to be the one to give that to her, but I want to do it right. I want her in my bed where I can take my time and…

  Emma takes advantage of my silence and grabs my rock-hard cock through my jeans. I can’t think when she’s touching me.

  “Fuck,” I hiss out. My resolve weakens with each rough stroke she’s giving me. “You want me to fuck you right here? You want my dick so deep inside of you, you’ll feel me when you walk around the diner for the rest of your shift?”

  “Yes, please do that to me,” she whispers. Emma rubs her hand up and down my length and looks up at me with a crystal blue stares that cuts right to my very core. I remove her hand and see her eyes swim with the pain of rejection. Fuck, I never want to see that look on her face again. “I need to know you’re real,” she murmurs more to herself than to me.

  I was going to kiss her hand and guide her to the back booth to talk for a bit. But now I need to be inside my woman and show her how real I am. “I’m so fucking real, dandelion.”

  I unbuckle my belt and work on my button and zipper. Emma helps, tugging my jeans and boxer briefs down.

  “Shit, I don’t have a condom.” I never carry one with me because I’ve never been in a situation like this. Fucking hell.

  Emma reaches out to stroke my cock, making me hiss. She bites her bottom lip and then turns so she’s facing the door. Her thumbs hook into her shorts and panties and she pulls them down just enough to give me access to her sweet pussy.

  “I’m on the pill. I’m clean. Please.”

  I growl and close the distance between us.

  “Goddamnit, dandelion. So perfect for me,” I say as I massage her gorgeous ass. “I’m clean too, baby. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  She looks at me over her shoulder with equa
l parts disbelief and hope. That, coupled with the way she’s standing, presenting herself to me, almost has me shooting my load before I’ve even been inside of her.

  “I need you,” she says again. I get the feeling my little one doesn’t often let others know what she needs, let alone beg for her needs to be met. How can I not oblige? I know what she needs, and I know just how to give it to her.

  “I’ve got you, little one. I’ll always give you what you need.”

  I grip her hips and line up with her juicy cunt. Taking a deep breath, I slam my dick deep inside of her pussy.

  “Fuck yes,” I groan, stilling inside of her so she can adjust to my size. She feels like warm, silky heaven and I know from this moment on, I never want to be anywhere else.

  Emma throws her head back and bites her lip to keep from crying out. I graze my lips on the shell of her ear. “Are you okay, sweetheart? I’m not a small man and I wasn’t gentle.”

  She whimpers and nods her head. I’m not sure if that means she’s okay, or if she’s agreeing that I wasn’t gentle.

  Fuck.

  Panic races through my veins. If I hurt her, I’ll never forgive myself.

  “I’m good. You feel so good,” she moans.

  Emma shoves her ass further into me, somehow allowing her pussy to take me even deeper.

  I bury my head in her shoulder to muffle my groan. I pull back, almost all the way out, and then thrust into her. Again and again.

  Her velvet walls pulse and squeeze me tight, sucking me in and massaging my cock.

  “You feel good too, dandelion. So fucking good.”

  I kiss the back of her neck and trail my lips down her back, placing kisses in between her shoulder blades and down her spine. I’m not going to last much longer inside of her perfectly tight little pussy and I need her to cum before I do. Reaching around, I find her clit and start rubbing.

  “Fuck!” She cries out before she can stop herself.

  Placing one hand over her mouth, I pick up my pace, rutting into her like a goddamn animal. Her body starts shaking and I feel her breath growing uneven as her body prepares for her orgasm.

  I pinch her clit and feel her splinter apart in my hands. I bite back a growl as her pussy convulses around me, sucking me deeper and deeper, coaxing my cum out of my dick. I remove my hand from her pussy and wrap it around her tummy, keeping her in place while I pump into her one more time and then give her cunt what it’s asking for.

  She cries out again, the sound muffled by my hand. My dick shoots rope after rope of cum inside of her. My legs start shaking, but I’m still coming. My hands go on either side of hers to keep myself from collapsing right there.

  Fucking Christ.

  Best sex ever. Fuck. I’ve never cum so hard. I just…shit.

  I finally release her and help her get her shorts buttoned up before tucking myself back in and zipping up my pants. I press her against the door again and kiss her, long and deep and forceful. I want her to know this isn’t it for us, that I still want her, need her, so fucking bad.

  I eventually break the kiss so we can both breathe. She leans her head back against the door, her eyes closed. I can’t help but take in her heaving chest, her slender neck, her flushed cheeks, and perfectly swollen lips.

  Emma finally opens her eyes. Shock replaces the fog of lust. I even see a little fear and uncertainty. She may have walls a mile high around her heart, but my little one wears all of her emotions in her eyes.

  “That was, um…that was…” Her voice is tentative, almost a whisper.

  “That was me claiming you.”

  Her eyes turn fierce. I welcome the challenge I know she’s about to throw at me. “Just because we fucked, doesn’t mean you can claim me,” she spits out.

  “Face it. You’re mine, dandelion. And—"

  “I’m no one’s!” She cuts me off and tries to shove me away. I just pull her closer.

  She’s going to fight me every step of the way, but I see the cracks in her armor. I’m a patient man. And she knows where I stand now.

  “You’re mine, and I’m yours.” I finish what I was trying to say in the first place.

  My words seem to soften her demeanor a little bit. “We don’t even know each other's names,” she says in a quieter tone, chewing on her bottom lip.

  Holy fucking shit.

  I just fucked her in the back room of a diner and I didn’t even tell her my name. I already know her, but she doesn’t know me. I feel like a fucking bastard. Now that the lust fogging my brain has cleared a bit, I remember my original plan to take her back to my bed instead of being a damn animal.

  I rub my thumb across her lips, testing the waters. When she doesn’t pull back, I place a sweet kiss on her sexy little mouth.

  “Hi,” I whisper against her lips. “I’m Roman.” I kiss her again.

  “Of course you are,” she mutters.

  “What was that, little one?”

  “Nothing. I’m Emma.” She pauses, and then the rest comes tumbling out. “When I first saw you, I thought you looked like a Roman statue.” Her eyes go wide at her confession. I can’t help but grin. “Shit, what is it with you? I can’t seem to keep my damn mouth shut.”

  “I always want you to tell me what’s on your mind.” I tuck a piece of hair that came out of her braid behind her ear and then cup her neck. “When I first saw you, I thought you looked like home.”

  She sucks in a breath and tries to look away. I bring her face back to mine and make sure she’s looking at me before I say my next words. “I know you’re not ready to hear that, dandelion. But I need you to know I’m not going anywhere. I need those words to be planted inside of you and take root.”

  Tears well up in her gorgeous eyes, but she quickly schools her face, blinking them away. I almost think I imagined them, but her eyes betray her once again. She wants to believe me, but she needs me to prove it to her. Challenge accepted.

  Chapter 3

  Emma

  What the fuck do I say to that?

  I want it to be true. But it would never work for so many reasons. We don’t even know each other, for one. And even if we did, nothing can ever happen. I’m a target, and not only that, I’m a flight risk. There are so many ways I could hurt a man like Roman. Not physically, of course. But I could land a deadly blow all the same. Either my past catches up to me and he’s caught in the crossfire, or I have to go on the run and leave him devastated. I can’t do that to him. To anyone.

  Roman takes advantage of my hesitation and bends down to kiss me again.

  Fuck. A girl could drown in these kisses.

  We were all hunger and frantic energy earlier, but this time when his tongue slips inside my mouth, he’s tender. Almost reverent. I feel his tongue graze across the roof of my mouth, and I can’t stop the low moan from escaping my throat.

  Roman tilts my head to deepen our kiss. At the same time, his arm winds around my back and he pulls my body flush with his. He finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on mine.

  “Emma…” He whispers.

  Hearing him say my name for the first time does something to me. His voice is full of longing, of promise, of a painful need. My heart aches and I squeeze my eyes shut, the stupid tears fighting to make a comeback.

  Roman tucks my head into his massive chest and for some reason I let him. He massages my neck with one hand and strokes my back with the other. His touch makes me feel so safe, so wanted. I listen to his steady breath and strong heartbeat, letting them anchor me once again. His warmth consumes me and cracks something open deep inside, filling me with his words and promises of home.

  It’s too much.

  I clear my throat and try one more time to shove him away. To my surprise, he lets me. And again, to my surprise, I miss his embrace.

  Get it together, woman!

  “I have to get back to work,” I tell him, trying to sound firm. I turn to open the door, half expecting him to stop me. When he doesn’t, I almost feel a little disa
ppointed. I look at him over my shoulder and grin at him, hoping to end our brief time together on a good note. “Thanks for all the orgasms though.”

  “Anytime, dandelion,” he grins.

  Roman’s nickname hits me deep, though I’m pretty sure he has no idea why. I’ve barely known him for a day and already I could see myself falling for him so easily. If I were anyone else, I’d let myself get swept away in the fantasy. As it is, I’m me, and I have too many monsters hiding under my bed to invite someone else in there with me.

  My feet carry my body out to the front of the diner, but I’m pretty sure my heart got left behind in the back room with Roman.

  I have two hours left in my shift, and I stupidly keep looking around the diner for Roman. My panties are ruined from our little tryst in the back room, now cold and sticking to me and reminding me of him with every step I take.

  Speaking of… goddamn. As soon as his lips were on mine, I wanted to feel him everywhere. It’s like a flip was switched and I suddenly couldn’t get enough of him. I couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t kiss him hard enough, I couldn’t take him deep enough. Every sensible and rational thought flew out the window and was replaced with an almost painful need to be consumed by him from the inside out.

  But then reality comes crashing in.

  I fucked Roman after knowing him for one day.

  Does that make me a slut? I’ve only ever had one other sexual encounter with a boyfriend I had senior year to compare it to, so I tell myself that I’m not a slut. But I know next to nothing about him. That should freak me out a lot more. When I’m around Roman I feel…safe. Wanted. Seen. As fucking crazy as it sounds, his touch already feels like home.

  But I don’t have a home. Never have. Continuing things with Roman will only hurt us both later. I just need to get my shit together and keep my damn legs closed.

  I distract myself from the roller coaster of thoughts and emotions for the next few hours by throwing myself into work. Being a waitress sucks big time, but the tips are usually pretty good. Every little bit helps when you’re paying for school and trying to save up money.