Falcon

 

Falcon entered the house and slammed the front door behind him hard enough to rattle it in the frame. He knew Bridgette was there—that he should work on getting his temper under control. But his blood was still boiling from the rest of the day.

 

He and the guys had spent the greater part of the day in the basement, knocking out walls and clearing away the debris so they could check for any sign of a stash. He was beginning to think Martin had some bad intel from someone and was obsessing over it because he had nothing else to go on.

 

Which wasn’t good news for them, since that meant there would be no way to take care of things other than trying to directly confront Martin himself. That would be a suicide mission, of course. They needed some kind of leverage over him, some way of luring him out into the open.

 

It was evening now. They’d decided to split up for the rest of the night. Shark and Leo were going to run to meet up with Benny, who supposedly had an update for them. Bill was going to hang around the bakery and keep watch. And he was going to check in on Bridgette and try to bury his frustration for the night. They still had plenty of wall to tear out tomorrow. They’d find it eventually if it was there.

 

If not…well, he thought, they’d have to come up with a new plan if it came to that.

 

Falcon went straight to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He popped the top and took a deep swig, grateful for the relief the cold liquid provided. His throat was dry and scratchy from being stuck in the basement all day with so much dust in the air.

 

“Did you find it?”

 

Falcon spun around to find Bridgette lounging in the kitchen doorway, wearing nothing but her oversized t-shirt and a pair of lacey pink panties. She stood with her arms folded over her chest, her wild red hair tumbling freely over her shoulders. Falcon couldn’t help but eye her long, shapely legs. The sight of those bared, creamy limbs got his blood pumping and derailed his train of thought. He forgot what she’d said. “Hm?”

 

“I said, did you find it? You know—the stash.”

 

Falcon took another swig of his beer. “No. We’re going to keep looking tomorrow.” He tilted his head at his beer. “You want one?”

 

Bridgette looked less than pleased at the news. But the disappointment disappeared quickly from her face, replaced by a cold, hard look. “I was just talking to my daughter,” she began as she went to pull a drink out of the fridge. “I told her I’d probably be able to pick her up tomorrow, Kyle. But that’s not going to be the case, is it?”

 

Falcon slammed his beer down on the table. What was she pissed at him for? Did she think he wasn’t trying to get this resolved? That he was purposely stringing her along? “Fuck, Bridge, we’re looking as hard as we can. I don’t want this drawing out any more than you do.”

 

Bridgette sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. Look, I just want to know that she’s safe. That we’re safe. I want my life back.”

 

“And I want to cut Martin’s nuts off. But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

 

Bridgette leaned back against the kitchen counter, a frown creasing her lips. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just…I hate this so much. I hate sitting around doing absolutely nothing, knowing my daughter’s resenting me more and more every day I don’t see her, knowing I’m going to probably have to sell the bakery back at a loss after this—“

 

Falcon pushed up from the table, fixing her with his heavy scowl. “What the fuck did I tell you just today, Bridge? It’s going to be fine. There’s not a damn thing you can change by worrying about it—“

 

“That’s the point!” she exploded. “Don’t you get it? Do I look like a damsel in distress to you? Have I ever been that? This is total bullshit, all of this. The last time I was helpless was after you left, and I swore I would never see myself back in that position as long as I lived. I told myself I would work my ass off so I could be sure I could fix things if they ever went to shit again. And now I can’t.”

 

“You don’t have to,” he growled fiercely. He took her by the shoulders and held her in front of him, staring deeply into her eyes. She looked away for a moment, but finally reluctantly raised her gaze to his face. “Fuck, Bridge, look at everything you’ve built. Look at everything you’ve done for yourself. You’re a fighter. You’re going to make it through this. And I don’t know much about kids, but I do know you, and I don’t think yours is going to be able to hold a grudge for too long. I just need you to give us a few more days.”

 

Falcon could see a few tears leaking down Bridgette’s cheeks, though she was doing her best to ignore them.

 

“And if you don’t find it?” she demanded. “If it’s not even there? What then?”

 

Falcon tightened his hands over her shoulders, holding her fast. “Then I come up with a new plan with the guys, and we figure out how we take Martin and his whole fucking operation to the ground. I don’t give up, and I’m not going to stop until I know you’re safe.”

 

Bridgette said nothing. She dropped her gaze again, biting her lip.

 

Falcon slid his hands down to her slender waist, then lower to her tight ass. He kneaded her flesh as he lowered his mouth to her neck to kiss a path up to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

 

Bridgette wasn’t exactly resistant, but she wasn’t fully receptive either. “What are you doing?” she demanded, though there was an unmistakable hitch in her voice.

 

Falcon pressed his lips to the hollow shell of her ear. “Distracting you,” he replied throatily.

 

“And if I don’t want to be distracted?” she managed to force out. The breathy quality of her voice and the way she was leaning into him, molding her body to his, told a different story.

 

“Then you shouldn’t distract me by prancing around in your panties,” he told her. He slid a hand up her shirt to one of her soft, plump breasts, fitting it into the palm of his hand. “Shit, and no bra either? You’re just asking for trouble.”

 

“It was more comfortable,” she panted, thrusting her chest out so her breast pressed even harder into his palm.

 

Falcon squeezed her breast hard, drawing a soft moan from her lips. “Then you’ll be even more comfortable when I get you out of all this.” He released her breast and lifted her up by the waist, tossing her easily over his shoulder.

 

She struggled half-heartedly for a second, probably more out of surprise than anything. “Where are we going?” she demanded as he started off down the hallway, still carrying her.

 

“I need a shower. And I think the deal was that I get to have you in there with me as long as I don’t smoke. Right?”

 

Bridgette scoffed at him. “You’ve gone out for a smoke at least three times today, and that was just this morning—“

 

“I’m a work in progress. I’m not smoking right now, am I?”

 

Falcon ducked into the bathroom and set her down in front of the shower. He stripped his shirt and pants off before reaching into the shower to turn the water on. He turned back to Bridgette, who still hadn’t undressed.

 

She stared at him stubbornly, hands folded over her chest again. “You really should try to quit—“

 

Falcon tugged her panties down without warning, then snared her wrists and pulled her arms away from her chest. “If I’m going to do that, I’m going to need something to take the edge off,” he murmured seductively.

 

“Oh God,” she gasped as he released one wrist and dropped a hand down between her legs, tracing a finger gently along her already-damp slit.

 

Falcon sucked his index finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of her, before reaching back down to her pussy and pressing into her. He slid his finger easily into her, watching in satisfaction as her head lifted and her eyes closed in bliss.

 

He worked in and out of her, rubbing against her soft, slippery folds, his cock growing harder by the second. She braced herself against his chest with her free hand. As he worked her, she grew more and more frenzied until she was squirming in front of him, squeezing her thighs closed every time he pushed into her.

 

He withdrew his hand and let her other wrist go. She moaned in frustration. Falcon just chuckled and helped her pull her shirt over her head before stripping off his boxers. When she stood naked before him, her pert breasts once again bared to his gaze, he took a moment to just admire the sexy, soft curves and slopes of her body.

 

His dick was throbbing hard, and his balls were almost aching, even though they’d barely started. He couldn’t wait to bury himself inside her again, to feel the heat of her and claim her again.

 

He restrained himself, though he yearned to just drive into her. Instead he met her lips in a soft kiss, reveling in the texture of her lips, as his hands rose up to cradle her breasts. He rolled the weighty flesh against his palms before repositioning his hands so his thumbs rested on the tips of her hardened nipples. She moaned against his mouth as he circled her rosy areolas before flicking the little buds.

 

Falcon moved from her breasts to explore the rest of her body. He stroked along her downy stomach, sweeping over her hips to the small of her back. He loved the warm, velvety texture of her body and the feel of her dips and valleys under his caressing hands.

 

As he explored her, her hands wandered over him. Her nails raked lightly over his chest, grazing along his abs and down over his stomach. The slow, agonizing sensation pushing him to new heights of arousal. He thought she would stop short of his cock, but he was wrong. Her warm hands stroked down the length of his shaft and back up, not hard enough to satisfy but with just enough force to tease. She continued to stroke him, occasionally running a thumb over his tip, causing his erection to twitch reflexively.

 

She was unhinging him. He couldn’t take much more. If she continued like that, he would have ended up bending her over the sink and burying himself in her just to find his release.

 

It took a herculean act of willpower, but he forced himself to catch her hands and still them. He met her mouth in another kiss—this time more possessive, more animalistic. He caught her lower lip in his teeth and pulled at it before pressing his tongue deep into her mouth again, all the while drawing her back toward the shower.

 

The small bathroom was already humid and filled with steam, coating their bodies with extra moisture. They entered into the shower together, him pushing her directly under the showerhead and pinning her back against the wall so he could crush his body against hers. His erection dug into her stomach as his hands glided down her sides and to her thighs.

 

Bridgette ran her hands up and down his back, once again running her nails over his skin. The sensation was incredible—just the barest suggestion of pain mixed with a heady spike of pleasure. Her hands gripped his ass unexpectedly, drawing his crotch even harder against her. He ground his hips against her instinctively, needing the friction to alleviate a little of his borderline painful erection.

 

“Shit,” he muttered, stepping back a little from her. “I need a condom—“

 

“I’m on the pill now,” she groaned, dragging his hips back forward. She’d spread her legs wide so he could see her glistening pussy. The water running down her body from the showerhead flowed over it in rivulets. Bridgette took his cock in her hands and guided the tip to her entrance; an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

 

Falcon pulled her wrists up and pinned them above her head against the wall of the shower, grinding his tip over her entrance and through her folds. He wanted to savor this just a moment longer—the sight of her soaking wet, her red hair hanging around her face in heavy damp locks, her breasts two silky globes capped with her puckered, rock-hard nipples. God, she was beautiful.

 

Falcon pulled his cock away from her pussy and bent forward to bury himself between her breasts. He lapped lightly at the skin, tasting her and the hot water of the shower, running his tongue over the flawlessly soft flesh of her breasts. From his position he could feel the catch in her breath and the rapid beat of her heart. Her arousal was rising to a fever pitch, and it was music to his ears.

 

He pulled back and flipped her over so her breasts and stomach were pressed against the wall. He captured her wrists and pulled them up again as he lined himself up with her entrance.

 

His cock throbbed too badly, and he was too far gone in his own haze of primal need to even consider teasing her any longer. He impaled her in one long, powerful thrust, his cock pushing easily into her soaking wet pussy.

 

“You’re going to feel this tomorrow, baby,” he growled into her ear.

 

She cried out as he buried himself deep, all the way to his balls, before pulling back. He thrust in and out, slowly at first, trying to find the rhythm of her inner contractions. She was spasming around him, clenching and unclenching desperately as his cock withdrew.

 

As he built up his tempo, he found himself aligning with the instinctive movements of her own body—the small thrusts of her hips back against him, the tightening and untightening of her channel. As he built to his climax, he could feel every part of her building toward hers.

 

It felt as if their bodies were melding together as they drifted into a realm of rapture. Falcon pumped faster and harder, his body taking over beneath him until he was no longer aware of any conscious decisions—only the intense pleasure radiating from his cock and her glorious body.

 

Bridgette toppled over the edge first. She cried out as she came, pumping her hips furiously against his shaft as she tried to ride him through the waves of pleasure. The intensity of her body’s reaction was enough to send him over, too. His world narrowed until it was nothing but the sensation of pleasure and relief. He pushed deep inside her one last time and came deep within her.

 

They stayed like that for a few seconds after as they both came down from their highs. Bridgette seemed to be leaning hard into the shower wall, bracing herself for support. Falcon was leaning against her, pressing into her back and letting part of the shower’s warm spray course over him as he shrank inside her.

 

After a while, he pulled out and backed up enough so she could turn around.

 

She did so slowly, her eyes still a little glazed from the experience.

 

Falcon leaned down to kiss her again, then moved back to admire his handiwork. She half-smiled up at him, her body relaxed, her expression deeply satisfied. There were still dark circles starting to form beneath her eyes, but she was looking a hell of a lot more relaxed now than she had when he’d first come home.

 

“Not bad, huh?” he murmured. He ran his hands lightly through her damp locks, smiling to himself when she relaxed into the gesture.

 

“Not bad at all.”

 

“Guess I’ll just have to keep you distracted for the next few days,” he teased her. “Since it seems to work so well.”