I’m sitting on my couch watching TV when there’s a gentle knock at my door. Turning the sound down, I rise and open it, surprised to see Scarlett standing there. I’m so tempted to ask if she’s okay but as she pointed out, I do that a bit more often than I should.

I just want her to be okay. Is that so wrong?

Her eyes are lit up, and I can tell she’s excited about something. She’s wearing a clean pair of dark denim jeans and a baby blue blouse that brings out the oceanic blue of her eyes, and the usual need to bury myself in her surfaces. I do my best to think of old men showering to keep my boner at bay as she saunters in, turning to face me.

“I met with Chantel just now,” she says, her tone laced with triumph.

I lift an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on. “And?”

“And she was willing to cooperate,” she says, nearly skipping toward the couch, plopping down on it as she kicks her feet up. I join her, sitting next to her, wanting to be close to her. Somehow, I’ve developed some kind of addiction to Scarlett, so that when we are apart, I feel an intense withdrawal.

What I need is to get back to my fucking job. I checked my phone six times this morning for a call from Rory, all to no avail. He does know that he’s paying me for nothing, right? The old man can’t be that stubborn.

Maybe he can.

“What do you mean, Chantel was willing to cooperate?” I ask, truly curious.

“I met her in the coffee shop on the corner, showed her the bug and gave her two choices: jail or information. She was smart enough to choose the latter.”

“What did she tell you?”

“She gave me the address for a meeting tonight with the ones who did this to me. I’m hoping that seeing them will jog my memory enough to get to the bottom of all this and bring them to justice.”

Her words wash over me, their meaning sinking in slowly, since I can’t believe she would be this fucking reckless, again.

“When you say that you plan on seeing them…” I lead, and I wait for her to finish.

I can tell she doesn’t like my tone. She stiffens and moves away from me, scooting toward the other end of the sofa.

“I mean that I’m going to crash that meeting and get a full view of my attackers.”

I inhale, holding the breath as though it will keep my frustration and anger inside. When it doesn’t I look back at her only to find her glaring up at me, daring me to tell her not to go.

You want a dare? Let’s dance.

“No.”

Scarlett stands, and I can tell she’s ready for a fight again. I’m fine with that. I’d rather argue with Scarlett alive than attend her funeral because I didn’t keep her from getting herself killed.

“I didn’t ask for your permission,” she says, her words biting.

“I don’t care if you did. You can’t go to that meeting. Are you crazy?”

“Am I crazy for wanting to find out who tried to kill me? I don’t know, maybe I should just live out the rest of my life in fear, knowing that some unknown entity could come for me at any fucking moment. Does that work better for you?”

I stand to meet her where she is, and her eyes narrow as she looks up at me.

“There are reasons why police exist. They have guns and training for this kind of thing.”

“I don’t have enough proof to get the cops involved. I need more evidence before I can bring it to them. They’re not going to listen!”

“What, you mean when you bring a bug to their desk with clear evidence of the people who were involved?”

“I told Chantel that I wouldn’t rat her out if she gave me this information.”

“Who gives a fuck what you told Chantel? You think she’d stay true to her word when given to you? Because she has such a stellar history of doing that?”

“Why don’t you get that this is something that I have to do on my own?”

“Why don’t you get that you’re going to die if you do?”

“I am not some helpless victim here, Isaac. I am a woman capable of solving my own problems! The cops can’t be trusted, okay? I know people like this. They have connections. You don’t think it’s a little weird that nothing has come of the investigation? That Mullins hasn’t even contacted us again? It’s insane! ” She stamps her foot. “I’m doing it on my own. I can handle it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that you’ve never been tied to a chair in a burning building. I’m sure you can handle anything.”

She knows that what I’m saying is true. Deep down, she has to know it.

“Why do you even care?” she whispers.

Her eyes are hard but deep inside them.

How have I managed to let another woman into my life? It can’t end well. But when she asks me how I can care, I stare into her eyes and ask how I could not.

My body reacts, shutting out my brain and the stupid pile of thoughts that are clouding it. I pull her to me and crush my lips against hers, claiming them, absorbing them into my own. My tongue cracks her lips open and explores her mouth. Lucky for me, her tongue meets mine in the exchange, and my dick hardening as our slick mouths come together.

I hold her ass in my clutching hands and kiss her until we can hardly breathe.

“I don’t know if this means anything but if I can forbid you to go, I forbid it.”

She palms my cheek with her hand. “Isaac, shut up.” She pulls me back down to her, effectively shutting my mouth with her own, kissing me deeply. I decide to take her advice and wrap my arms around her. I press her against me, our bodies connected all the way down.

In the light of day, she looks stunning, her hair shining with little strands of gold between the fiery curls. I run my fingers through it, savoring her. I want to remember this. I want to memorize every detail of her body, so that if this situation tears us apart, I can at least have the memories.

I take a few steps backward until I’m standing on my living room rug. It’s a nice, thick rug, and I scoop Scarlett’s knees, lowering her onto it until she’s on her back, kissing and sucking on her cherry lips all the while. We take our time. Maybe she can feel it, too. There’s a sense of finality here. My fingertips brush along her creamy abdomen, sliding up beneath her shirt until I reach the smooth fabric of her bra underneath. That doesn’t stop me. I reach the top edge of the bra and tug it down, exposing one nipple as I roll it between my fingertips. She arches into my hand, and I give her a little pinch. She lets out a little moan before I move to the next breast.

One must provide equal treatment, after all.

As I circle her right nipple with my fingertips, my other hand drifts to her thigh, sliding up her leg slowly until it meets the heat from her pussy even through her jeans. I run my fingers up and down, pleasuring her top and bottom at once while she arches and moans into my mouth. Finally I stop, pulling my hand from her shirt as I grab the hem of her blouse and pull it over her head, exposing her silky pale breasts, her nipples rock hard. I reach behind her and unsnap her bra, tossing it aside. I want to roll my tongue along those nipples, to get them glistening, but I want to see all of her first.

I unbutton the top of her jeans and roll the zipper down, tugging the offensive garment all the way down, pulling off her socks and shoes along the way until everything is piled in a heap on the floor behind us. She is laying naked on my living room floor, her eyes glazed over with lust as she stares up at me, asking with her eyes for me to explore her.

And I’m going to.

I run my fingertips up her calves, her knees, her thighs again. Her pussy is shaved and pink and glistening, and I almost lose control then and there.

I slowly pull her knees apart, spreading her, watching her lips open up as I do so. I run my index finger along the length of her slit, circling her clit with my finger a few times before I plunge my middle finger into her entrance, her silky cunt dripping as I slide my finger in and out, looking up to watch her face.

She’s watching me, her eyes glued to her pussy as she sees me fuck her with my finger. I slow the pace, and her hips press forward. I can’t resist anymore. I need a taste of her. I dip my head down and circle her clit with my tongue, pointing it as I recite the alphabet with it.

She’s still watching me. Our eyes meet, and I grin at her before I remove my finger and replace it with my tongue, fucking her with it, lengthening it as long as it will go, tasting deep inside her.

She cries out, arching back as she rides my tongue. I grab her ass and plunge deeper, my thumb moving to her clit and rubbing it as she fucks my mouth. Her legs are shaking as her orgasm builds, and I fuck her deeper, my tongue sliding in and out as she screams.

When she comes, my mouth is filled with her juices, and I lap them up, the taste of her spurring my erection on. I sit back, prepared to wipe my chin, but before I do, she is sitting up, her hands stopping mine.

“Wait,” she says. “Let me use some of this. Lie back.”

I follow her orders, laying where she was, the rug warm. Her juices are still covering my face as she carefully lifts my shirt off my body, following my lead and unzipping my pants, tugging them down and freeing my erection. Our clothes mingle in a pile as she combs her fingers along my dick, running them along my balls, teasing me. I follow her lead and watch, seeing everything perfectly clear in the light of day. She leans forward and places my dick between her breasts, running them up and down the shaft as she looks up at me.

“Now I could use a little lubrication,” she says, leaning up and kissing her own juices off my face. She fills her mouth with my spit and her cum before she sinks back down and spits it onto my dick, rubbing it until its nice and slick before she replaces her hands with her breasts again and proceeds to fuck me with her tits.

It’s the hottest thing I have ever seen in my fucking life. I watch her, unable to look away as she makes eye contact with me, her eyes hot with lust as she kisses the tip of my penis while still stroking it, her nipples still hard as she sucks gently on the head. I’m going to come. I want to do it inside of her. I want us to be joined when it happens.

“Fuck me.” This time I am the one who begs. She has brought me to my breaking point, and I don’t care. I just need her to obey.

“As you wish,” she says. She removes my dick from her breasts, and I almost feel a sense of regret before she sits on me, plunging my penis into her pussy, enveloping me as she faces me, her breasts bouncing as she begins to set the rhythm. I wrap my hands around her hips, lifting her up and down, helping her ride me as she watches our joined bodies, watching me pump in and out of her.

I remove one hand from her hip and return my thumb to her clit, rubbing it while she bounces up and down on my dick, moaning in ecstasy as I fill her again and again. Today she is driving, she is ensuring that she takes control, and I can’t help but let it happen.

She bounces up and down, and the tickle deep down starts up. She’s not far off from another orgasm, though, and I hold tight, increasing my pace as I fuck her hard and she screams out, her pussy pulsing against me.

I know it’s safe now, so I pump two or three more times before I allow myself to release, my penis throbbing as it empties itself, and all of my energy with it.

Scarlett sits on me a moment, her body glistening with sweat. Her nipples soften as her body cools, and she lowers down to lay next to me in the crook of my arm. We lay together like that for what feels like eternity and no time at all before she releases a sigh.

“I should go.”

“Should you?” I ask.

She laughs. “Yes. I have some researching to do, especially now that I have an address.”

Much as I try, I am never able to take her mind fully off of this scheme. I’m tired, both physically and emotionally, and I know I can’t force her to live in a bubble.

Just a little fucking caution would be nice.

“Scarlett…” I begin but she cuts me off, standing as she grabs her clothing and slides back into it. I am disappointed when her chest disappears behind her bra, followed by her blouse, but I move to get dressed as well. Apparently, we’re done here.

“I know you care about me, and that’s why you’re so protective, but I have to do this. Please respect my wishes and let me.”

We’re dressed now, and she turns to look at me one more time. My heart is beating fast.

“I don’t just care about you, Scarlett. I’m in love with you.” Her eyes widen at my confession, and I don’t care. If it helps keep her safe, I’ll do whatever it takes – even bare my soul. “Please don’t do this.”

I cradle her cheek in my palm, converting her features to memory. She places a gentle palm against the back of my hand, her eyes pleading.

“I have to,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Scarlett casts one last regretful look back at me before she heads for the door, closing it behind her without looking back.

My body is still pulsing from being inside her, and I’m annoyed at the resounding emptiness that fills me when the door closes.

Once again, for the hundredth time, there is nothing I can do. I fucking hate it. She’s going to get herself killed.