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Theme: Night Shift
Prompt: 3 AM by Meghan Trainor [livejournal.com profile] singerdiva01_sk


0300. She was drunk and bored, a deadly combination. She’d cabbed it home after seeing Zak Adama across the club, the temptation to march over there and drag his beautiful ass out to her truck overwhelming. Now she was sitting on her top step, debating whether or not she really wanted to be down there badly enough to risk falling down the stairs.

Her phone buzzed. She tried to ignore it, but it was deep enough in her pocket it vibrated up her zipper, and frak, she was horny. She dug it out and glared at the ID. Adama. She must’ve taken too long to get out. He’d seen her. It had been once, and he just wouldn’t take no for an answer now. He wasn’t making it obvious at school or anything, because they both knew that would get her brig time, at the very least, but he kept showing up where she was. Texting her. Leaving her messages that of course she had to listen to, that voice of his making the girl in her stand up and take notice.

The phone went dark for a few seconds, then lit up again.

Godsdammit.

“What?” she snapped.

“Wanted to make sure you got home okay, Lieutenant.”

Yeah. Always so proper if there was any possibility someone could overhear. “I’m fine.”

The background noise faded, and he lowered his voice. “I wanna come over. Make sure you’re okay.”

“No.”

“You have somebody else there?”

As if he didn’t care. She was tempted to say yes, just to see what he would do. “No.” She hit end, and shoved her phone back into her pocket. She grabbed the railing and hauled herself up and made her way carefully down the stairs.

A beer from the fridge. Drop her clothes on the floor. Grab her phone and toss it on the nightstand. Sit back against the pillows. And she couldn’t stop seeing him. The way he’d looked after he’d gone down on her. Twice. That infuriating smile when she’d come so hard she’d seen stars. She licked the top of the bottle, thinking about how he might taste, and drunk as she was, she could smell herself. She needed something.

Her phone lit up again. She snatched it up and growled into the speaker. “Fine. I wanna frak. That’s all this is.”

“I’m on my way.”

Before she’d even put her phone down, she heard the door upstairs open. Gods, she was an idiot. She hadn’t locked her frakkin’ door? Then he was in the room, and she yanked him down to the mattress and pushed him down. She might regret this, but she was damn sure gonna make it worth regretting.

He practically tore her panties off, and the first stroke of his tongue on her was so good. She fell back onto the pillows and spread her legs.

“Gods, Kara!”

She poked him with her heel. “Lieutenant. Get that straight.”

“Yes, sir. How many times you wanna come, sir?”

“Just keep going until I tell you to stop.” She knew it wasn’t nice, but she just didn’t care at the moment. He buried his face in her, kissing and licking and sucking, and gods, this kid was good. Under a minute. Or maybe she was just that horny. She looked down, saw the moonlight reflecting off the slick on his face, and felt a twinge of guilt. But she pushed it away. “Keep going.”

He took his sweet time, soft kisses on her skin, taking her to the edge and backing her down. She refused to admit those needy whimpers were coming from her. His name floated off her lips. “Zak, please.”

His thumb slid in and out of her, teasing at the entrance, and she was about to come undone. As if he knew, he pressed harder, flicked at her clit so fast she couldn’t keep up, and this time she almost couldn’t breathe, it hurt so good.

He kissed and sucked his way up her body, stopping to tease her breasts. She could feel his erection behind the zipper, rubbing against her, and the combination of his mouth and the pressure had her all but begging.

He lifted away and stripped efficiently, then was down on top of her again, the weight of him so perfect, and he whispered things in her ear, and she reached down and grabbed him.

“Frak. Now.”

And somehow it was even better than the last time, the way he sank into her, the feel of her body stretching around him, and she moaned into his mouth. She felt so languid and loose and tingly and she wanted to feel this way forever. Why couldn’t she?

His voice was in her ear, telling her how good she felt, how turned on he was, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him and told him, “Harder. Faster.”

And she was coming yet again, and then he was, and the way he said her name made her heart feel too big for her body. He rolled to the side and pulled her in closer. He couldn’t stay. She should make him leave. In a minute.
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