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Furious isn’t the right word to describe what he’s feeling, but it’s the damn closest it gets.
Because Tim is pissed.
Lucy disobeyed a direct order from her Watch Commander. It doesn’t matter that he might be her boyfriend—actually, that might make it even worse. She knew she could, on some level, get away with it. He won’t outright suspend her, and she had used that to her advantage.
Maybe he should suspend her, just to prove a point. He’s suspended officers for less, so it wouldn’t be petty or out of line. He has to tread carefully, when it comes to Lucy, because he needs to treat her fairly, despite the fact that he seems to be incapable of separating his personal feelings from his professional judgment.
He benched her just like he’d have benched any other officer in the same position, and he is proud of himself for being able to do that.
Suspension, though? Putting that kind of black mark on Lucy’s record, jeopardizing her future career? It’s a lot harder to make that call.
It’s just that...
She only disobeyed him because he is her boyfriend. She wouldn’t have done it with any other superior. So, it feels unfair to punish her equally for a situation that only exists because she isn’t just any other officer.
Still, he’s fucking furious.
But, underneath that anger, there’s something worse: Fear.
In this job, being off-balance for a day doesn’t mean just getting yelled at for messing up numbers or something—their job can deal with life and death. She could’ve died if he didn’t get to her.
That’s the part she doesn’t get.
Or maybe she does, and she had ignored it anyway.
And he needs her to understand. He needs her to know how badly she fucked up, and that she can’t do it again. He’s not sure if this is the conversation he needs to have as her boss or her boyfriend, but it needs to happen.
A few creative—and totally unprofessional—ideas go through his head as he works through clearing the scene.
Of course, there’s the normal, totally reasonable ideas, like benching her for longer, or yelling at her, or reporting her to the Captain even if he really doesn’t want to. There’s giving her the grunt work she wouldn’t want to do, stacking up her paperwork, or making her train Penn for a week.
Then, there’s the more...personal ideas that come to mind. The punishments he’s dreamed of in the past. Spanking. Ball gag. Restraints. Edging. Then again, these are things that Lucy actually wants, so saying it’s a punishment is a very loose term.
He could abstain from sex, which would definitely drive her crazy enough to learn her lesson, but he thinks it’d punish him more than her. It’s not like they’ve fucked that much since the incident anyway, with each time being when Lucy initiates, usually late at night, when she’s desperate for her mind to quiet.
It isn’t just about sex, though. It’s about control, and right now, he doesn’t have much. Not over her, not over the situation, not over the fact that she scared the hell out of him and doesn’t seem to think that matters.
Besides, he needs to stop thinking about this before he gets hard at work.
Tim finishes up his rounds, and it’s just about waiting out the other officers on the scene, when he spots Lucy.
Yelling seems like the most ideal solution for now. Well, sternly using his voice, as Lucy had named it during her rookie year. Maybe, it’ll make his point enough that he won’t have to resort to anything else. It usually works for most of his officers—even if Lucy isn’t classified as most of his officers.
“Sergeant Chen,” he barks out. “With me.”
She doesn’t hesitate, but she doesn’t rush either. There’s a deliberate steadiness in the way she moves, like she’s already bracing for whatever’s coming.
That alone irritates him more.
He turns without checking if she follows, because he knows she will. She’s in a precarious position right now, and she’s got to choose her battles. He really doubts this will be the hill she dies on.
Tim heads to a motel room that TID already cleared. He knows it’s far enough away from where everyone else is that they won’t overhear their conversation, no matter how loud it gets. While he’s absolutely angry and knows he won’t be able to prevent himself from raising his voice, he doesn’t necessarily want to embarrass Lucy in front of all her own subordinates.
As he steps into the room, he turns off his bodycam. He doesn’t think the brass needs to see him berating his girlfriend over an error of judgement he’s already trying to keep under wraps.
The door shuts behind them with a solid click, and he turns to see Lucy, staring at him, her eyes also filled with their own fire.
He reaches forwards, shutting her body cam off, before ripping it off its mount and tossing it onto the bed.
“Hey—!”
“What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps.
Lucy purses her lips, steadying herself before responding, “I made a judgement call.”
“A bad one,” he cuts in sharply. “You disobeyed a direct order.”
“An unfair one.”
“I told you to stay at the station, and you went on patrol anyway,” he outlines. “I told you to not engage, and you rolled right up to two men with guns before backup arrived.”
“What did you expect me to do?” she demands. “Sit there and wait while they walked? Hope they didn’t hurt anyone before backup got there?”
“Follow orders,” he snaps, stepping into her space again. “That’s what I expected you to do.”
“Like I said, it was an unfair order.”
“With that logic, you can justify ignoring any order you don’t like,” he fires back. “That’s not how this works, Chen.”
“Just like you justify giving bullshit orders to ‘protect me’ or whatever—”
Tim clenches his jaw, infuriated. “My god, you haven’t changed since being a rookie. You haven’t learned—”
With an irritated huff, Lucy steps forwards suddenly, before grabbing him by the back of his neck, dragging him down to crash her lips into his.
It’s not a gentle sort of kiss. It’s not even a desperate, needy kiss. This is pure anger, manifested into lust, like she’s trying to prove a point instead of making one.
It’s ironic, really. In all their time together, before or during their relationship, he doesn’t think Lucy’s ever wanted him to shut up to the point she made him do so. He’s certainly wanted her to shut up, but he knows better than to ever attempt a stunt like this. Yet, here she is, kissing him mid-argument just to get him quiet.
He sees how it is.
For half a second, he goes still, caught between instinct and restraint. Part of him wants to shut this down immediately, remind her that they’re at work and he’s trying to yell at her as her boss, but there’s also the part of him that’s already reacting to her. The adrenaline of the shootout earlier still hums in his bones, desperate for release. The decision comes, but perhaps not from his brain.
If she doesn’t want to fight with words, he can play that game, too.
He matches her kiss in a bruising force. His hand comes up, fingers curling around her arm. If this is about control, he’s damn well going to make sure he wins this.
She doesn’t let up.
If anything, she pushes harder.
Her free hand fists in the front of his uniform, tugging him closer. His grip tightens in response, steadying her, controlling the space between them even as she tries to take it.
Lucy pulls back, just enough to breathe, eyes flashing, lips parted like she’s about to say something—
Then, she doesn’t.
Instead, her hands move with purpose, faster now, working at the buttons of his uniform. He watches her for half a second, jaw tight, before his own restraint slips another inch. He grips her wrist, stopping her, before tugging her back into another violent kiss, as he starts to push her in the direction of the bed.
On the way, he lets go of her wrist, to undo his duty belt, dropping it onto the table. She follows suit, dropping it far more unceremoniously on the carpet, before she reaches for his pants.
Tim pulls away, shoving her away from him before she can take control.
“Get on the bed,” he orders.
Lucy’s eyes flash with something defiant. “No.”
Which, fair.
In a moment of clarity, he glances over at the motel bed, wincing slightly as he takes in the rough shape of it. He doesn’t think he’d want his face to be smashed into that bed either, with how messed up this motel is. Who knows who else has been on that thing, or how long it’s been since it’s been properly sanitized.
Within that clarity, he begins to rethink what they’re doing. Just the thought of fucking his subordinate—even if she’s his live-in-girlfriend—while on duty, with officers they’re meant to be supervising on scene, would get them both fired. Actually doing it? If they’re caught, they can say goodbye to their jobs.
All that clarity goes away the second Lucy pulls her hair free from her bun, shaking it loose in one quick motion.
It falls around her shoulders, slightly disheveled now, strands sticking to her face.
There’s something different in her expression, now. She’s still got that defiant glint in her eyes, challenging him, but there’s something sharper underneath it... Something intentional.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
She tilts her head slightly, lips pressing together smugly. “Problem, sir?” she asks.
She says sir in a way that doesn’t sound like a term of respect, but instead a very clear sign of disrespect. There’s a little lull towards the end of the word, where she exaggerates it, making it obvious that she means to insult him.
His jaw tightens immediately, whatever fragile thread of restraint he’d managed to grab onto snapping clean through.
He steps back into her space, closing the distance again without hesitation, one hand coming up to catch her chin, making her look up at him.
“Careful,” Tim says, low and controlled. “You’re already pushing it.”
Her eyes flick down to his mouth for half a second before snapping back up, completely unapologetic. “Am I?” she counters.
“Up against the table,” he demands next.
She stares him down, her eyes not leaving his as she takes off her regular belt, before dropping it onto the ground. “Make me.”
Oh, he’ll fucking make her.
He manhandles her a bit, to get her to the table, twisting her around roughly before pushing her face-down onto the surface. She resists only a little; enough to make a point of defiance, but in a way he knows she’s not objecting. She just clearly wants to make things difficult for him.
Her palms hit the table first, bracing herself, shoulders tense as she shifts her weight. There’s a sharp exhale from her, more irritation than discomfort, as she settles into the position.
Tim steps in behind her, crowding her space, one hand firm at her hip to keep her where he put her. With his other hand, he tugs the zipper of her pants down, before finding the skin of her waist. He slides his hand down her bare ass, down to her thigh, dragging her uniform pants and leggings and underwear down all in one go.
He slaps her pussy with three fingers, lingering there long enough just to determine if she’s wet enough to take him, and finds that she’s fucking soaked. He curls his fingers, poking into her cunt, just enough to hear her sharp intake of breath, before pulling his hand away.
He kicks her feet apart, forcing her into the widest stance her pants will allow her. Then, he frees the length of his cock from the confines of his uniform pants, giving it a few strokes to get himself to full hardness. Her cum on his fingers gives him the lubricant needed, and he lines himself up with her cunt, deliberating slightly.
Lucy shifts, seeming a little too eager for what he’s about to do.
Tim makes a low, unhappy sound. “You think you fucking deserve this, after the stunt you just pulled?”
“Yes, sir,” she says simply, her voice almost bored.
He smacks her ass, hard. “Yes to what?” he asks harshly. “Are you saying you deserve to be punished? Or do you think you deserve to feel good?”
“Does the answer change what will happen?”
He grabs a fistful of her hair, pulling her up roughly, so he can talk directly next to her ear. “This isn’t meant to be some kind of reward, Chen,” he snaps.
“Right,” she says, but it doesn’t quite sound like an agreement. “So, are you gonna fuck me or not?”
She doesn’t even glance back at him, her same dull tone remaining. Irritated, he releases her hair, letting her fall back onto the table with a thud. She settles easily, almost like she’s enjoying this fully, and wiggles her hips, ready.
If Tim had half a mind left, he wouldn’t do what he’s about to do.
He knows exactly how bad this is—on duty, on scene, with people just outside who trust them to be in control. He’s never fucked her on duty like this; they’ve made out a few times, some dirty talk and sexting. There’d been the one laundry room hookup, but they hadn’t been in uniform, and no one had been waiting on them.
This is pretty unforgivable territory.
His hand tightens at her hip, fingers digging in just enough to ground himself, or maybe to ground her. Everything in him is still running hot: Anger, adrenaline, that lingering edge of fear he hasn’t dealt with yet... All of it twisting together into something reckless.
He leans in closer, close enough that his voice drops, rough and low. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says firmly, but his grip doesn’t loosen. He keeps one hand around his cock, positioned.
“Oh my god,” Lucy groans in frustration. “Won’t you just shut up and fuck me al—”
He slams into her with one rough thrust, because naughty girls don’t deserve gentle, and the rest of her words are silenced with a little yelp.
And, just like that, a majority of his anger dissipates, replaced with raw need.
He doesn’t give her time to adjust—not that she needs it, with how smoothly he slides in and out of her. He wonders how long she’s been turned on, with how wet she was before he’d even touched her. One hand plants itself on her hip, moving her back and forth with his thrusts. His other hand presses against her upper back, giving him a little leverage, as well as keeping her pinned against the table.
She feels so good like this. So tight.
Lucy, in the other hand, keeps her fingers curled around the edge of the table, knuckles whitening as she braces herself, shoulders tight with the effort of holding still.
Her breathing gives her away.
Every movement pulls a reaction out of her; small shifts of her weight, the subtle arch of her back, the tension building in the line of her shoulders. She presses her lips together at first, like she’s determined not to give him anything, but it doesn’t last.
A soft sound slips out anyway.
Then another, louder.
“Quiet,” he hisses out, putting more pressure on her back, but he doesn’t relent on his thrusts. “Quiet, or we’re gonna be found out.”
She doesn’t quiet. In fact, he swears she gets even louder. Before, it had sounded like her moans had been restrained, choked, like she’d been holding back. Now, it sounds like she’s letting the sounds go freely, no barriers. It’d be super fucking hot, if they weren’t two supervisors on duty, with a handful of officers just outside. Their only saving grace is that this is the most seedy motel he knows—just going door to door earlier, he’d heard at least three rooms’ beds squeaking. It’d be easy to deflect the cries coming from anyone else.
“Oh, Ti—!”
He slams his hand over her mouth, silencing her as best he can.
It works a little, muffling the cries she lets out, but it seems to only spur her on more. She pushes back into him instead of away, shifting under his hold with a stubborn sort of insistence, like she refuses to be quiet just because he told her to. Her head turns slightly beneath his hand, breath hot against his skin, testing him.
In another attempt to shut her up, he shoves a few fingers in her mouth, trying to stop the sounds before they can slip free. With his grip on her jaw from inside her mouth, he pushes her head to the side, forcing her to face away from the door, away from anyone who might hear.
And, still, she doesn’t go quiet.
Tim refuses to let her win, though, keeping his pace steadily moving in and out of her, the obscene sound of slapping mixing with the squeaking of the rocking table. Between that, and her moans still spilling through his fingers, anyone who walks past this motel room is bound to know exactly what’s going on between their Watch Commander and Roving Sergeant.
They’ve used sex to express a lot of feelings they don’t know how to put into words, but he doesn’t think he’s had a full fight with Lucy through sex before.
“This what you wanted, Chen?”
He sees as she eyes him with a glare, just as—
She fucking bites down on his fingers. Hard.
His entire body jolts at the sudden sting, a sharp curse slipping out under his breath as he yanks his hand back on instinct, stopping his motions.
It hadn’t been enough to actually hurt him, but it’d been unexpected. Maybe he shouldn’t admit it, but he enjoys the pain a little too much. The sharp sting of her teeth shoots straight down to his cock, dragging an involuntary reaction out of him that only feeds the fire burning under his skin.
“Oh, that’s how you wanna play it?” he mutters, voice low.
Lucy doesn’t answer, but the look on her face says everything. There’s no quit in her, of course. He’s always known that.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought.”
He slams back into her, continuing with the brutal pace he’d set before, and relishes slightly when she is too preoccupied with the feeling to shoot him any more looks.
There’s static on the radio, and someone announces their call sign, but Tim doesn’t stop.
Celina finishes up her rounds of whatever motel guests are willing to talk to her, and she heads back to where everyone is. She doesn’t see Lucy or Tim, though, and that’s who she needs to report her status to. Jan, very nicely, points in the direction he says they just went.
Logically, she knows she probably shouldn’t interrupt what’s bound to be a big blowup over disobeying orders. She can’t exactly side with Lucy, because their jobs involve following everything to the letter, even if they’re close with their superiors. She’s learned that the hard way with Nolan, then Lucy herself, and now she knows a little better. Yet, Lucy’s her friend, way more so than Tim, so if anyone asks in a way she can’t deflect from, she’ll totally be on Lucy’s side.
Jan had told her that they just left, like, thirty seconds ago, though. So, she should be able to catch them before the fighting really begins, surely. She’ll just slip in, announce that she’s done with the scene, and that’ll mean she and Nolan can get out of here and clock out sooner rather than later. Elena’s been texting her about another movie night tonight, and she really wants to be settled on her couch with takeout rather than stuck at some dirty motel. Tim and Lucy arguments can get lengthy, and Celina has no desire to wait it out if she can help it.
When she walks up to the motel room, though, she is disappointed to realize she is too late.
Even within the maximum of a minute in there so far, it seems like the argument is already in full swing. She hears bits and pieces about how Lucy disobeyed orders—Tim sounds more angry than Celina’s heard him in a while—and while she should extract herself, curiosity keeps her listening in.
There’s a whole lot of yelling, and then, very suddenly, there’s the distinct absence of any noise at all, and that scares Celina more than anything.
Tim Bradford wave came silent mid-sentence, and there’s only a very few possibilities for why that would happen.
Perhaps he’s having a stress-induced heart attack. But, then again, Celina thinks she’d be hearing a panicked Lucy calling for help right about now if that were the case.
Then, Celina hears a thump and a small cry, and that’s enough to send her in the other direction.
Yeah. She’ll be fine stuck here for however long she needs. She’ll text Elena to postpone. She much prefers being alive, thank you very much.
She heads back to the main staging area, finding Nolan and accepting her fate of old construction stories for the next hour or so.
“Hey,” Nolan greets. “Did you find Bradford and Chen?” Then, he seems to clock whatever horrified expression is on her face. “You okay?”
“Great,” she answers immediately. “Perfect. Nothing weird happening at all.”
He squints at her, unconvinced.
Celina bounces awkwardly on her heels. “Uh, I don’t think any of us want to head that way,” she quickly says, indicating her head towards the motel room.
Nolan’s face switches to understanding. At least, his version of it. “The fight that bad?” he asks, cringing a little.
They’d talked about it on the way over, after hearing Lucy and Tim’s conversation over the radio, and especially when Tim had passed them on the street, despite their own speeding. When Tim had pulled Lucy into a hotel room, they all knew what was coming.
Well, at least the yelling part.
“Something like that,” she says, not wanting to clarify. It certainly sounded like it started out as a fight. No one needs to know how it seems to be resolving. “I think it’s best if we, you know, let them work it out on their own time.”
“No need to tell me twice,” Nolan says easily, waving his hands slightly. “I definitely don’t want to get in the middle of that. Sergeant Bradford would probably rip my head off.”
Celina hums, agreeing. Not exactly for the reasons her old TO is thinking, but she definitely doesn’t think Sergeant Bradford would be amenable to being interrupted. She’s so lucky that Lucy moved out immediately upon getting back together with him. She had to deal with Tim being over a total of two nights, and it had almost nearly ruined her life.
“Poor Lucy, though,” Nolan comments sympathetically. “She’s probably getting the full Bradford meltdown right now.”
That’s one way to put it, she notes miserably in her mind. She wishes she could bleach her brain.
“Should we try to save her?” he asks next. “I can—”
She shakes her head quickly. “No,” she answers. “Trust me.”
Something tells Celina that Lucy’s doing just fine, and is actually exactly where she wants to be.
Nolan opens his mouth, and then wisely closes it.
Lucy thinks this is the best sex they’ve ever had.
Which is saying a lot, because, in general, sex with Tim is the best she’s ever had. They’re both fit, flexible, in control of their bodies, extremely creative, and willing to try new things.
But this...
This is different.
They’ve definitely gone rough before—extremely rough. But there’s a difference between going rough for the sake of sex, and going rough because you’re legitimately pissed. There’s no faking this kind of messiness, this kind of fight for control.
And she’s definitely the one winning, right now.
Tim might think he’s the one in control, since he’s the one on top of her, taking her from behind. Since she bit his fingers, he’s settled that hand onto tangling in her hair, and he seemingly has no mercy with the way he’s pounding into her. He doesn’t seem to realize that she’s the one with no mercy.
Every time he pushes, she gives just enough to keep him hooked, then shifts again, keeping him off-balance. It makes him react instead of lead.
“Harder,” she demands, and smirks victoriously when he listens. She wonders if he even realizes. She hopes he does. She wants him to know who’s really in control, here.
She calmed down on the noises after biting on his fingers. He hadn’t ordered her to be quiet again, and despite being determined to prove her point, she doesn’t actually want to get caught. Still, the sounds escape her, especially when he does exactly what she wants.
“More,” Lucy orders, and it definitely doesn’t sound like she’s begging.
“You want more?” he asks, slowing down instead of speeding up. Damn. She’s not sure if he’s figured out her game, or if he’s just playing his own. “Why should I give you more?”
“Because—” she gets out, before he slams hard into her, stealing whatever breath she had left.
“You don’t get to make demands right now,” Tim adds, voice low, edged with something steadier than before. Less reactive. More...aware.
That annoys her.
She turns her head slightly, just enough to shoot him a look over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. “Then why are you listening?” she shoots back.
With that, he tugs her up roughly by her hair, pulling her into a standing position, leaning back into his chest. He untangles his fingers, moving his arm in front of her chest, attaching her to him. His hand comes around her throat, pinning her neck against his collarbone, and she rests the back of her head on top of his shoulder.
“I’m listening to exactly what I want to listen to,” he whispers into her ear, and fuck, it’s hot. “You are not the one in control here.”
Just to punctuate his point, he pushes down on her hip, adjusting so that his cock is fully inside her, filling her up completely. A small whimper escapes her lips without her permission, and his hand leaves her hip, moving to her clit, just as he tightens his fingers against her throat.
“Knee up on the table,” Tim orders her.
It’s tempting to listen, because she knows the change in position would feel so fucking good, but, well, she’s a woman of principle, even if she feels a bit like jelly right now.
“I said,” he repeats harshly, grabbing her thigh and forcefully moving her leg into the position he wants, “knee up on the table.”
It’s a little awkward, with her pants still around her calves, but it opens her up even more to take him further inside her, as well as give her a little leverage to thrust back in rhythm when he gets started again.
The position isn’t exactly comfortable or easy, though, and she knows that’s exactly why Tim chose it.
Now, she doesn’t have the table to grip on to, so she has to settle for grabbing onto Tim’s bicep. It isn’t ideal—with the fact that his face is right next to hers, he can already see the effect he’s having on her, and now he’s feeling it with how she clenches her fingers into his skin. She feels like she’s quickly losing control, more and more as the pleasure in her veins builds towards its peak. Her jaw tightens, a quiet exhale slipping out as she tries to regain her footing in the situation.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to her. Maybe a part of her doesn’t even care anymore. He seems to predict her next moan, timing it with how he rubs his finger against her clit, and he closes his hand around her throat to keep the sound from coming out. He does this twice more, and she thinks she’s in heaven.
God, she’s so fucking close—
“Come,” he commands.
Her eyes snap open.
Goddamn it, Lucy wishes he hadn’t told her that. Because, now, if she comes, it’ll be because of him, and she simply just cannot let any of his orders be followed right now.
No.
Absolutely not.
He might outrank her, but she’s the one in control. Always. And he best remember that.
Her lips press together immediately, a stubborn shake of her head following as she digs her nails slightly into his skin. And even as her body betrays her, every muscle tightening, every breath catching, she holds off, refusing to give him that win.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tim seethes out. “Are you so stubborn that you won’t even let yourself come because I told you to?”
“No, sir,” she denies, though she smirks a little. The smirk quickly fades as he pushes inside her again, and her resolve starts crumbling faster than she can rebuild it.
“You’d deny yourself just to spite me?”
She wants to respond, she does, but when she opens her mouth, all that comes out is a desperate whimper. Fuck. She wants to come so bad; her body is begging for it.
Suddenly, he slows down to something more gentle, rolling his hips against hers in a way that makes her gasp with every turn. It both helps with delaying the pending orgasm, and tortures her even further.
Tim’s hand moves from her neck, and to the bottom of her jaw, tilting her head. He presses a series of soft kisses to the parts of her face he can reach, not caring about the sweat-soaked hair sticking to her skin. His other hand rubs circles around her clit, putting pressure in time with his thrusts.
“Don’t you want to come, Luce?” he asks, husky. “Don’t I make you feel good?”
So, so good. She feels so on edge, every movement feeling like electricity lighting up in her body. Her hands keep moving, her fingers constricting into fists and relaxing, because she can’t sit still. She can’t remember why she had been so determined not to come, with how Tim is—
Her eyes fly open.
Fucking bastard is trying to trick her into coming. The next roll of his hips juts into her a little more forcefully, and her eyelids flutter shut again as she bites down on her lip. Fuck.
“You’re gonna come,” he tells her, one last time, as he comes back around with another roll.
Lucy whimpers, trying to maintain her control. She’s on a mission, and she’ll be damned if she lets him win.
“No,” she manages to gasp out.
He pauses, before letting go of her body and letting her slump unceremoniously onto the tabletop with a thud. “Fine,” he grunts. “Then I’m finishing without you.”
He isn’t bluffing, she knows, because he starts jerking harder against her, in the way he does when he’s about to come. His hand leaves her core to move both to her hips, abandoning her pleasure, in pursuit of his own.
Well, she can’t have that.
She reaches her hand down, rubbing her clit frantically, determined to get off before he does. Between the way she’s been edging herself, and how Tim is thrusting into her with abandon, the orgasm she’s been holding off on comes almost immediately.
Her grip on him tightens sharply, a broken breath spilling out as everything hits at once, the tension she’s been fighting finally giving way. For a moment, she forgets the argument, forgets the point she was trying to prove.
“There we go, give it to me,” Tim grunts out, pushing the base of his thumb into her mouth to quiet her, just as he hits his own climax. She bites down, hard, as tears flood her eyes from how fucking good she feels. It’s rare for them to come at exactly the same time, but she can feel the throbbing of his orgasm in sync with her core pulsing.
Everything narrows down to that single overwhelming wave, her fingers digging into him as she rides it out, breath uneven and unsteady.
And just like that—
She lost.
She feels it settle in her bones, slow and undeniable, the realization hitting just as hard as everything else still coursing through her. Tim had gotten exactly what he wanted, and she had given it to him.
Lucy isn’t even sure how upset she is about it. The anger is still simmering underneath her skin, but the orgasm had been so good that her mind is still clouded, still reeling. It blurs the edges of everything—her thoughts, her irritation, the point she’d been so determined to prove. It’s all still there, but now dulled, softened by the aftermath, her body deciding the fight was over even if her mind hasn’t quite caught up yet.
Goddamn it.
Her grip loosens gradually, fingers slipping from where they’d been dug into him, only now realizing just how hard she’d been holding on.
Tim’s hand loosens, too, and her forehead dips forwards, now that she’s lost that support of her neck. She steadies herself, her whole body shaking, overwhelmed. She inhales slowly, then again, forcing her breathing to even out, to settle. She can feel the rise and fall of the chest pressed against her back doing the same thing.
When Lucy finally looks over her shoulder, he’s looking a little too proud for her taste. Bastard.
She opens her mouth to say something scathing, the exact same moment he opens his mouth to presumably say something smug, but neither of them gets the chance to piss the other off any further.
“7-Adam-100, we’ve cleared the scene out here,” Nolan interrupts over the crackle of the radio.
With his cock still inside her, Tim grabs for the radio, pressing the button, and saying, “Copy that. I’ll be out in a moment.”
She can feel the words vibrate from his chest into her back, the low rumble of his voice grounding in a way that’s annoyingly steady compared to how she still feels.
He yanks her pants up as he pulls out, forcing the fabric over her ass, trapping their mixed cum before it can leak out of her. It almost lifts her off the ground, the abrupt movement knocking the breath out of her for a second as she stumbles forwards slightly, catching herself on the table.
“Make yourself presentable, Sergeant Chen,” he snaps. “I expect that’s an order you’ll follow.”
He disappears into the bathroom for a brief moment, and she’s almost impressed by how composed he is. She’s still reeling; and by the time he comes out, uniform pristine and hands clean, she hasn’t moved. He walks up to her, but instead of kissing her like she half expects him to, he leans down, grabbing something from the ground, and then pushes the duty belt into her hands.
“We’ll talk later.”
With that, Tim heads for the door, sparing her a quick glance as he exits what now could probably be classified as a crime scene, leaving Lucy alone.