Staying With Her

Chapter FIVE

Her milky breasts spilled out of her bra as he unhooked it. Enlarged pink n*****s dotted both her breasts. The white of her breasts contrasted to the pale skin around. He placed the little boy in her hands and she pulled him towards her bosom. He opened his mouth and gently suckled. The occasional drop of white slid around his small mouth.

This was what he offered. A helping hand. A mean of financial and affectionate assistance. It was a win-win, she warmed his bed whilst he provided shelter. The tiny hands were tightly clutched to her shoulders as he held her. Blackhawk felt a pang of jealousy watching the little bugger suck on the t**s he owned. He felt the need to suck the unoccupied tit to balance the pleasure. However, from the expression on her face, he'd sworn it was anything but pleasurable.

In a blissful rage, he strolled into the open planned kitchen. Collecting a bottle of fresh spring water, he leaned against the wooden counter, in deep thought. Had he gone nuts? Was the only question that lingered on his mind. He was convinced that he had entered an early mid-life crisis. Sipping from the bottle, he remembered the taste of her milk. The sweet yet bitter taste of breast milk. He knew one thing, he was going to drink them again.

"Are you sure about this?" Came her voice.

"Yes."

"We can always move out and you wouldn't have to worry," She suggested, picking at her fingernails.

"You have someone important to go to?" He asked, sipping.

She shook her head, "No, just me and Josiah," She exhaustedly smiled.

"No man?"

The spur tears within her eyes made him jump from the counter and within one stride, he was holding her against his chest. His strong arms caged her in an embrace. She sobbed. Trailing her small hands up his strong chest where she gripped onto the loose black t-shirt. He rested his chin on top of her head, swaying their bodies in sync whilst she emptied the painful memories.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

She shook her head, lifting her head from his chest she sniffed, "I'm sorry, I'm putting snot on your tee," She chuckled, wiping her tears with his t-shirt.

Blackhawk joined her laughter, "Wanna talk about it?" He asked, pulling back to look at her face. He knew he was passing his limits. Yet, he couldn't help but tickle the beast.

"Not today," She sniffed.

"He's asleep?" He asked.

She nodded her head and sighing. Seconds later his mouth was on hers. He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. She ran her fingers down his back, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest.

"I hadn't asked for your name?" He groaned into her mouth.

"Clarissa," She moaned.

The next thing she knew, she hardly had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips and, at her grant of access, delved inside her mouth. Her arms reached up and tangled around his thick, strong neck before clutching at the disheveled strands of his midnight hair. Unexpectedly, his hand drifted to her hip. It settled there and pulled her closer. She inhaled sharply. She was against his warm chest, chiseled to perfection.

He began nuzzling her neck with delicate kisses. So faint, they were whispers. A hand ran through her hair, as the kisses become harder and more urgent. Another hand slid around her waist. He loved the sound of her name. A name he could hear himself moaning and growling to when he beds her. A name that could have him rock solid every second of every day. He made her feel hot and cold with his smooth kisses to rough and urgent, visa versa. He had her on edge. And she loved every second of it.

* * *

His phone buzzed. Lazily, he rolled onto his back and collected it from the nightstand.

"Yeah?" His voice, coarse like a fragmented rock. Years of smoking and alcohol had made his voice sound like it had traveled via vocal cords of heavy sandpaper.

"Good afternoon to you too," He knew her voice. The damn woman made it her mission to irritate the hell out of him.

"What, Kate?" He sneered, rolling his tired eyes.

"Someone's sexually frustrated," She teased. He could hear the smirk forming on her lips.

"More than you know," He rasped, "get to the f*****g point." He was on the verge of unrealistically choking her through the phone.

His night had been like it was years back. Alone and hard. Clarissa had slept in her son's room after exchanging their passive make out. Granting him a massive hard-on before she bolted for the doors. Her reason: She ain't ready. Ain't ready my ass! Thought Blackhawk whilst he stood alone and frustrated. She was a mystery. A dangerously beautiful mystery.

Sighing, she replied, "They found another body."

"Where?" He asked, sitting up in his bed.

"Pine street. Martin's moving on it and so is Hobbs," She paused, "you clearly need the rest." She gulped.

"You okay Kate?" He asked, swinging one leg over the other as he sprinted out of bed, in search for his clothes.

"Pfft, I'm fine...Are you coming over?" She asked, biting into what appeared to be a dry cracker.

"Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen." He shrugged on his pants, buckled his belt before throwing on his black tee.

The clicking of feet added rhythm to his movements. Her eyes scanned the room with determination before her eyes met his, she smiled, "Going somewhere?" She asked, gripping onto the side of the door.

"Work," Was his only reply.

Sighing, she answered, "I need my clothes." She bit onto the inside of her gum, a nasty habit.

Blackhawk paused and turned towards her, "Be my guest," He stood at the end of the messy room, hands rested in the pockets of his black jeans and an unreadable expression masked his face.

Her form-fitting nightgown was a pristine white. It pooled around her like liquid silk. The silk caressed her skin like a cool autumn breeze whilst she swayed into the bedroom in search of her clothes. He clenched his hands into a fist inside his pocket, retraining himself. Her naked ass hadn't made it any easier for him. He watched it sway with every step and her breast. Her breast bounced under the silky material and dangled down her chest as she bent.

She inched closer to him. Both gazed into each other's eyes; not a word spoken by either. She was lost within the breathless paradise of his dreamy eyes and no sooner without any authority he clutched his hands onto her hips, leaning her against his muscular body; as a result, she was weakened by his gentle seductive touch. He began kissing her frail neck which made her even weaker.

Groaning, he pulled away, "I can't," He whispered against her neck. More so to himself than her.

Seeing that she took her precious time to taunt him, he marched towards his dresser and grabbed his badge and gun, "You're a cop?" She quivered, her eyes wide. What had I gotten myself into? She thought, staring at him with perplexity.

"Yep, I'm going. My numbers on the fridge." With that, he left her to fend for herself.