I’d added heavy makeup (something I never did but it looked pretty good even if I did say so myself). I’d also added lots of hair (something else I never did but ditto with it looking good).

And now I was good to go.

And good to go meant Mitch driving me to Club. I had to work that day but the girls had met for dinner at Club and I was meeting them there. I ate a quick turkey sandwich when I got home. Mitch took the kids to Penny’s, was going to take me to Club before he went to do his thing and then I was going to text him when it was time to come home. If he could get me (and LaTanya), he would. If he couldn’t, Elvira promised that Hawk, who was showing to get Gwen and Elvira and anyone else who needed a ride, would give me a ride.

My night was all planned and effortless for me. All I had to do was get glamorous, show up and suck back cocktails.

After a day of selling mattresses, that was all I had in me.

Incidentally, I was not worried about meeting three women who were curious about me. Yes, this was how far beyond my classification system I was. Three months ago, sitting down with three women who would be judging if I was good enough for Detective Mitch Lawson would have sent me over the edge.

Now?

Whatever.

If they didn’t like me, I didn’t have it in me to care.

Mitch liked me. That was all that mattered.

I turned from the mirror in the bathroom, hit the light and called back to Mitch, “I’m ready to go if you are!”

I went to my bed, grabbed my little black purse, turned out the lamp I had on by the bed and sashayed on my four inch heels out the door. I moved down the hall and saw Mitch at my bar, eyes down, he was flipping through a file on the bar but as I moved out of the mouth of the hall, his eyes came to me.

“Do you want to leave now?” I asked, continuing toward him. “LaTanya texted me. They’re there already so…”

I trailed off because the look on his face finally registered in me.

Yes.

In me.

In fact, it registered in me, through me, on me and all over me.

I stopped dead.

When I did, Mitch immediately moved and he did this toward me, his eyes on my dress.

“Mitch –” I started.

“I don’t wanna leave now.”

Oh boy.

“Mitch,” I whispered and started moving back because he was nearly on me and he wasn’t stopping.

When I started moving back, he kept moving forward so I kept walking backwards.

“Jesus, baby, knew your legs were long but…fuck.” His eyes were now on my legs and his voice was hot, low, growly and intense. I felt hot just listening to it.

Oh boy!

“Mitch, you have to catch bad guys,” I reminded him as I moved backwards through the shadows of the hall and he kept after me.

He shifted swiftly in a way that I had no choice but to shift with him and this meant we moved through the door to my bedroom.

“Mitch!” I cried, putting my hands to his chest. “Bad guys?” I reminded him.

His hands curled around my hips. “They’ll still be bad guys after I fuck you.”

Oh boy!

“Mitch.” I was back to whispering.

Mitch’s fingers curled into my tight, stretchy skirt and yanked it up to my waist.

Admittedly, that skirt was so short, it didn’t have far to go.

Still, this was hot.

I dropped my bag and my fingers curled into his shirt to hold on seeing as my legs had gone weak.

Mitch shifted again, I felt bed behind my legs then he moved and the lamp by my bed was back on.

I stood there, legs trembling as he leaned back several inches and his hot eyes traveled down my fevered body stopping at my hips where he could see my little, lacy black panties. Then his hot eyes moved to mine as his body moved into me and his hands moved back, both of them diving into my panties to cup my ass.

I did a full body tremble.

“Not waitin’ ‘til you’re home and drunk to fuck you. Doin’ it now and doin’ it then.”

Oh…

Boy.

“Honey –” I whispered then I said no more because his mouth was on mine.

Then he tongue was in my mouth.

Then mine was in his.

Then his hands moved down, yanking my panties down with them. I felt them slither down my legs and land softly at my feet.

I did another full body tremble and held onto Mitch.

“Step outta them,” he ordered on another growl, this one thicker and I did as I was told, my sandaled feet barely free of them before Mitch’s fingers clenched into my thighs right under my ass. He lifted me up, fingers digging into my flesh to spread my legs. I helped and then I found my back to the bed, Mitch on me, his mouth again on mine.

There was a lot of kissing, a lot of groping and his fingers were toying between my legs, my hand was palming his hard crotch, my whimpers drifting into his mouth when his lips disengaged from mine and slid across my cheek to my ear.

He pressed his cock into my hand as he slid two fingers into my wetness and he whispered in my ear, “Gonna fuck you hard, baby.”

Oh God.

I liked that.

Mitch was a gentle lover, intuitive, thoughtful, only taking me hard when he knew I was ready for it.

And he knew I was ready for it.

He wasn’t done talking.

“Want you sittin’ there, drinkin’ with your girls but still throbbing because of me.”

Oh God.

I wanted that too. So much, my hips bucked against his hand.

His thumb put pressure on my sweet spot and they bucked again.

I turned my head and whispered, “Okay,” in his ear.

“Free me,” he ordered and, my hands shaking, I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans then pushed them down his hips.

His head came up, his eyes captured mine and my calves wrapped around his thighs. I got a little thrill at feeling his jeans rub against my skin then his fingers and thumb disappeared and I got a much bigger thrill when his cock drove inside.

My lips parted, my eyes closed and my neck arched.

He kept thrusting, fast, hard, deep and his mouth went to my neck, his voice gruff, he asked in a whisper, “How many ways you gonna take it?”

I righted my head, slid the fingers of both my hands into his hair, his head came up and he kept driving fast and hard as I whispered back, “How many ways you wanna give it?”

He didn’t answer verbally.

No, he pulled out, rolled off, then I found myself on my belly then I found myself up on my knees then I had his hands at my hips yanking me back as he took me on my knees. My back arched, pressing my chest into the bed, his hands slid up to my ribs, the pads of his fingers digging deep as he kept pulling me back and thrusting into me.

“Yes,” I whispered into the comforter.

“You like that?” Mitch growled.

He knew the answer to that. We’d done this before, I’d like it before.

It had never been this hard, this fierce, this hot.

Still.

“Yes,” I repeated.

Then he was gone but not for long. I was flipped over, yanked up with one of his arms wrapped around my waist, both my legs wrapped around his hips. He shifted us and my back slammed against the headboard and wall and his cock slammed up inside me.

“Oh God,” I breathed.

Mitch’s arm slanted, one of his hands curling around the cheek of my ass, tilting my hips to take more of him. His other hand captured mine and held it to the wall by my head, his eyes locked on mine, his searing into me, hotter than I’d ever seen them.

This was beautiful. This was fantastic. This was hot.

“Baby,” I whispered.

“Fingers between your legs, sweetheart, I wanna feel you make yourself come while I fuck you.”

“Okay,” I agreed instantly then moved to do as I was told.

Oh God.

Yes.

That was more beautiful. Beyond fantastic. Sizzling.

Our lips touching, our breath mingling, our eyes locked, Mitch’s hand tightened in mine when I whimpered and he knew what that meant.

“Give that to me,” he growled.

“Yes, honey,” I whispered.

“Now, baby, give it to me.”

My lips parted, my eyes closed, my hand clenched his as my legs clasped his hips, I felt Mitch’s tongue slide between my lips as his cock kept driving inside me and the orgasm scored through me.

Three minutes later, my arms tight around him, one of my hands in his hair, my legs clutching his bucking hips, his face in my neck, he rammed deep, stayed planted, groaned into my neck and gave it back.

I bent my neck and kissed his skin right where his soft, dark hair curled around his ear.

Then I whispered there, “I love your hair.”

I felt his smile against my skin then I felt and heard his strange response of, “Sucks.”

“Pardon?”

His head came up and his hand still at my ass gave me a squeeze just as his arm that was now around my back gave me one too.

“Sucks,” he repeated, looking down at me, his face sated, his eyes still hot but in a languid, satisfied way (that made them hotter, by the way) both making him even more handsome than he was normally.

Which was to say, right then, my man was downright beautiful.

“What sucks?” I whispered, feeling languid and satisfied too, not because I just had fantastic, multi-position sex with my gorgeous boyfriend. Also because he had it with me, he liked having it with me and he didn’t mind me knowing it.

“Want you to have fifteen of those dresses so I can fuck you in all fifteen. But that would mean more overtime which would mean I wouldn’t have the time to fuck you in them. And that sucks.”