had to say goodbye.
"What happens in the morning?" he asked while pulling his shirt over his head. He dropped it, then slipped his shoes off. He apparently had the same thoughts I did.
"I'll check in with my boss and see how he wants to proceed." I purposefully answered around his question. I doubted he cared at all about my boss, my case, or my career. Well, the last part he cared about plenty since it was in direct opposition to his.
"But you're done working undercover, right?" He let his pants slip to the floor and pushed his shorts off as well. I realized that I was still fully clothed and simply staring at him in his beautiful naked state.
I removed my shirt and bra. "Probably. I'll have to wait and see what he says." My skirt and panties followed. I stepped out of my shoes and closed the gap between us.
He held me at arms length. "You can't go back. They'll kill you."
I snaked my arms around his waist and pulled him close. The feel of his naked skin pressed up against m ine was pretty fucking close to perfect, but this was so much more than normal. He was genuinely worried about me and all I wanted to do was comfort him. I wanted to hold him until he felt better. And hopefully his feeling better would lead to a whole different kind of feeling good as well.
"Odds are against it. With the pictures I took, they'll likely move in immediately. He'll probably flip rather than face the murder charge." I said it like it was absolute truth, but Mateo probably didn't believe me. It rarely happened like that. The people he worked with would threaten him with something a lot worse than some time in a jail cell.
He tightened his hold on me. "I hope you're right, but if you're not, you have to tell your boss."
"Tell him what?"
"Tell him you can't do it, that you're compromised."
I definitely felt compromised. I felt ripped clean apart. I loved my job, loved making bad people pay for d oing bad things. Then there was Mateo. On paper he looked very, very bad. In my bedroom, with only the filtered light from the hall to illuminate him, he looked very, very good.
Th is conversation needed to end. There was no point continuing it because the results would never change. I pulled out of his embrace and retrieved his discarded pants. The strip of condoms was in his pocket just like I'd hoped. I waved them at him. "We're going to need these."
I tore one off and set the rest on my nightstand where I'd be able to find them later. Mateo frowned at me, but his cock seemed to like the idea. It twitched and grew as I watched, and I debated whether I should open the package or simply drop to my knees and help him along.
"Roni, don't change the subject." He folded his arms over his chest. Maybe it blocked his view of his traitorous cock, which grew harder by the second.
I sighed. He wasn't ready to let the conversation go. "I can't promise that and you know it. I have a job to do. That hasn't changed."
"It's not safe."
"It never is. Neither is your job." It seemed to me his job was considerably more dangerous than mine, but I wasn't fucking whining at him not to do it.
"But I can't protect you there." He grabbed my wrists and held them against his chest, squeezing tight enough to make me cringe. The condom f ell to the floor. Shit, he was going all alpha-male on me, and goddamn was it hot. Probably wasn't a good time to mention how wet he was making me.
"Mateo, it's not your job to protect me." That probably wasn't my best response, either.
"What if I want it to be?" He said it loud enough for me to worry about my neighbors. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in.
"Shit." I didn't know what else to say. Our relationship was simple, if conflicted. We fucked and it felt really good. And we both knew we'd have to stop when it stopped being convenient. Or at least I thought we both knew. He didn't seem to have gotten that memo. "Shit." I said
"What happens in the morning?" he asked while pulling his shirt over his head. He dropped it, then slipped his shoes off. He apparently had the same thoughts I did.
"I'll check in with my boss and see how he wants to proceed." I purposefully answered around his question. I doubted he cared at all about my boss, my case, or my career. Well, the last part he cared about plenty since it was in direct opposition to his.
"But you're done working undercover, right?" He let his pants slip to the floor and pushed his shorts off as well. I realized that I was still fully clothed and simply staring at him in his beautiful naked state.
I removed my shirt and bra. "Probably. I'll have to wait and see what he says." My skirt and panties followed. I stepped out of my shoes and closed the gap between us.
He held me at arms length. "You can't go back. They'll kill you."
I snaked my arms around his waist and pulled him close. The feel of his naked skin pressed up against m ine was pretty fucking close to perfect, but this was so much more than normal. He was genuinely worried about me and all I wanted to do was comfort him. I wanted to hold him until he felt better. And hopefully his feeling better would lead to a whole different kind of feeling good as well.
"Odds are against it. With the pictures I took, they'll likely move in immediately. He'll probably flip rather than face the murder charge." I said it like it was absolute truth, but Mateo probably didn't believe me. It rarely happened like that. The people he worked with would threaten him with something a lot worse than some time in a jail cell.
He tightened his hold on me. "I hope you're right, but if you're not, you have to tell your boss."
"Tell him what?"
"Tell him you can't do it, that you're compromised."
I definitely felt compromised. I felt ripped clean apart. I loved my job, loved making bad people pay for d oing bad things. Then there was Mateo. On paper he looked very, very bad. In my bedroom, with only the filtered light from the hall to illuminate him, he looked very, very good.
Th is conversation needed to end. There was no point continuing it because the results would never change. I pulled out of his embrace and retrieved his discarded pants. The strip of condoms was in his pocket just like I'd hoped. I waved them at him. "We're going to need these."
I tore one off and set the rest on my nightstand where I'd be able to find them later. Mateo frowned at me, but his cock seemed to like the idea. It twitched and grew as I watched, and I debated whether I should open the package or simply drop to my knees and help him along.
"Roni, don't change the subject." He folded his arms over his chest. Maybe it blocked his view of his traitorous cock, which grew harder by the second.
I sighed. He wasn't ready to let the conversation go. "I can't promise that and you know it. I have a job to do. That hasn't changed."
"It's not safe."
"It never is. Neither is your job." It seemed to me his job was considerably more dangerous than mine, but I wasn't fucking whining at him not to do it.
"But I can't protect you there." He grabbed my wrists and held them against his chest, squeezing tight enough to make me cringe. The condom f ell to the floor. Shit, he was going all alpha-male on me, and goddamn was it hot. Probably wasn't a good time to mention how wet he was making me.
"Mateo, it's not your job to protect me." That probably wasn't my best response, either.
"What if I want it to be?" He said it loud enough for me to worry about my neighbors. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in.
"Shit." I didn't know what else to say. Our relationship was simple, if conflicted. We fucked and it felt really good. And we both knew we'd have to stop when it stopped being convenient. Or at least I thought we both knew. He didn't seem to have gotten that memo. "Shit." I said
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