Zaccaro

building families and the likes. The last time I engaged in a chat regarding the building of a nuclear family, it was with the friggen ex-Suit. We finished each other’s sentences for Christ’s sake. I’m adamant that it was true love and tiny, invisible aliens took over my ex’s body, wrote the breakup email and erased his mind of me… So, this touchy ass subject is off limits, way off limits.
“Well, Detective Zaccaro, dinner was lovely. Tupperware might make it even better,” I say arising, “If you’re willing. I'll call Uber downstairs.”
“Hmmm, this is almost like déjà vu. You’ve got that ‘running away’ thing down pat?”
My bottom lip drops. I take a good, long sip of wine then narrow my eyes at him. “Evan, don’t go there. I am not run–”
“Like I just said, remember our first night?” He asks, mouth cocked to the left. “In your haste to get away from me, you broke one of my art pieces.”
I take a deep breath. “And I apologized.”
“Then we spent the entire night talking, and the daybreak having wild, crazy sex, Reese.” Evan stands up, he steps behind me. The strength of his hands kneading the tension at my shoulders, makes my head lull and eyes flutter closed. I moan deeply as Evan mentions how we connected. “Then you tried to run away from me again.” He reaches over, as my head tips back more. Our mouths unite.
God, I wish it were easy to tell Evan about my reason for running away. Before my dad’s post-morbid eyes can flash before my face, I grab Evan’s face. I concentrate on the man who should be taboo. StepBrother. Suit. Italian. Cop.
I need this.
I kiss away the blues from being ten and going through the motions of no longer having a parent in your life. It's like missing a rib.  No matter Milo’s many faults, I love my father to this day. And the look in Evan’s eyes tells me his mother loved him ten times more than my crazy father ever loved me. He opened up, and told me about a death of a parent, about losing a large piece of him.
My hand is still caressing Evan’s cheek, as I sink back in the chair to look him in the eyes.
Evan begins to kneel. He pulls up my camisole and plants a trail of love from his gratifying lips down my stomach and to the top of my jeans. Evan has to peel the jeans off of me one hip at a time. With a shaded, lustful gaze, he stops before getting the pants all the way off to palm my curvy flesh. Finally, I help by pressing one heel at the other pant leg until I can kick off my jeans. Then Evan bites onto the top of my thong. His nose nudges between my thighs.
“Fuck, your scent is always so sweet,” as he speaks, my legs weaken.
When Evan stands, my heart clutches. My nectar percolates as he slides his hand into my panties. His palm cups my pulsating mound. And then his fingers delve into silk curls before reaching my clit. His thumb strums the tiny bulb and my labia quivers.
“Just like that, Reese’s Pieces, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He murmurs in my ear. No one has ever used my nickname in this manner, but I have no objection.
He takes my waist and twirls me around. His hand skims the flesh between my thighs. His thumb pops up in pursuit of my treasure but I internally curse myself for having worn panties, hell, having dressed in anything at all. Would it have been too presumptuous of me to have headed over here wrapped in just my shower towel? Wow, that was a very half-baked thought. But this is what Evan does, he scrambles my brain.
Evan’s thumb strums against the thin, silky shield that is my panties. “Let me fuck you by the window.”
My mouth floods with saliva, ever agreeable, I flock behind him toward the glass wall. The scene which took my breath away doesn’t compare to a single touch from him. My hands plant against the chilled window, a reprieve from the way Evan touches my body since the entire surface of my skin has set on fire with desire. Evan’s body presses against my back. My hips slowly lift magnetized by the arousal of his erection. He kisses the back of my neck, allowing his dick to slam against my ass.
A sharp breath escapes my mouth, fogging up the windows. Must I beg for the pain? Large fingers reach around me and then back into my panties as Evan finally pulls them down. I kick the thong away.
When I stand again, Evan’s Italian loafer swipes at the inside of my feet.
My mouth cocks to the left. “Bad cop, eh?”
CLAP. His hand swats at my ass, gripping the thick fleshiness. Sheesh, the pain sparks from the center point of my pussy and expands. By the time it reaches my hair follicles and toes, I’m all tingly and in agreement with… more… pain.
I can hear Evan pulling off his belt. His slacks fall. I turn to get a look at the magnificent, marble-carved shaft, but his steely voice says, “Eyes forward, Miss Dunham.”
I giggle, imagining Evan pulling me over as a rookie. I know he’s handling his cock when he groans, my ass tilts for his incentive. Another hard clap makes my honey flow even more. Evan eases his slick, hard cock inside of me. I try to open my legs wider for ease of access.
“Do not move,” he orders. “Reese, your pussy is squeezing my cock perfectly.”
Helpless and hopelessly, I attempt to clutch at the cool glass wall to no avail. Bright, twinkling lights of downtown display off in the distance, and I moan at the magnificence before me and behind me.
Evan leans forward. His cock goes deep as his lips caress the soft shell of my ear. “Someone must be watching…”
He can read my mind. My dirty, dirty mind.
“Whoever