Epilogue
“Booker Collins.” My fingers drifted over the decals on the frosted glass. “Private Eye.” It started with a Sherlock Holmes novel, and before I knew it, we were reading dozens of detective novels. A month ago, over dinner, he quietly said, “I’m quitting.”
It was only a few weeks before he rented an office.
Borrowing from the novels, he had a door installed that demanded a femme fatale to burst through.
I wasn’t busty enough for the role, but I knocked anyway.
He pitched the idea, fearful it would kill his career.
Having seen him save the day on more than one occasion, I knew he needed more than just being behind a desk battling red tape.
“Come in.”
I opened the door, and the first thing I noted was the trench coat and fedora on the coat rack.
Behind the desk, with his feet resting on a drawer, he embodied every fictional detective.
Being near Booker, I had gotten better at separating my emotions from his.
The pride washed over my skin, forcing my chest to puff up.
He couldn’t contain the accomplishment. I hoped he could feel my pride.
He followed his heart, and that deserved a round of applause.
“What do you think?”
“Not quite right.” When the door clicked shut, the color drained from the room. Muted grays remained, highlighting his suspenders and skinny tie. “There we go. Now it’s perfect.”
“What’s a boy like you doing in a place like this?”
What about a man in suspenders made me think inappropriate things?
The thin straps hugged his belly, stretching just enough to remind me of what hid on the other side of that dress shirt.
The hat and jacket might be props, but if he showed up at my door, I’d have him in nothing but the hat in seconds.
“I can feel that,” he admitted.
“Good.”
He stood up, moving to the front of his desk. He looked like a real-life private eye. The only problem was the tie. I kissed him on the cheek as I reached for the knot. He didn’t resist as I pulled it away, sliding the red fabric from around his neck and dropping it to the floor.
“Somebody’s in a mood.”
When I reached for the top button, I leaned against him, making sure he knew the exact mood I was in.
The benefit of dating an empath—I never had to ask for sex.
He knew the moment I went from rational thought to swimming in carnal urges.
It also meant that with the slightest reach of his abilities, he’d drop his defenses and let it wash over him.
As he stiffened in his trousers, I had my confirmation.
“I think it might be one of those moments.”
“Here? What about—”
I gripped his shirt, pulling him in tight for a kiss.
He encouraged me to take charge and give the orders.
This time, he’d get his wish. The bourbon and vanilla in his beard served as an aphrodisiac as I pressed my tongue against his.
When I bit down on his lip, waves of heat flooded my body.
He couldn’t create emotions, but he could amplify them.
As my desire cranked up to eleven, his clothes were getting in my way.
I tore the shirt off his body. He quickly reached for the button on his pants, preventing me from shredding those as well. Shrugging off his suspenders, his trousers slid down his legs, leaving him in a pair of tighty-whities.
The first time we had gotten naked, he held me in place while he trailed my body in kisses. Booker asked for nothing in return. I had been his willing victim, letting his tongue traverse my body. I never had a partner who gave without demanding reciprocation.
Our dynamic had shifted.
I dipped down, grabbing his thighs, hoisting him onto the desk.
He had given without asking. With his powers igniting a primal need, I took without asking.
On patrols, Hellion didn’t ask for permission.
Drew wasn’t any different in the bedroom.
With my cock grinding against my zipper and a mischievous grin on Booker’s face, there was no need for permission.
Sex with Booker ranged from gentle lovemaking to forceful fucking. As his powers diminished my inhibitions, I knew which he wanted. With a hand on his chest, I pushed him back until he lay propped up on his elbows. I tore the underwear from his legs, and it joined the rest of his rags.
I dipped to my knees, staring at that beautiful cock.
Every time he got naked, I wanted to touch him.
It made showering at my apartment dangerous.
How long before Arthur had a review meeting about my tardiness?
If he saw the fuzzy belly in front of me and how it tapered, as if it were an arrow pointing to his cock, he’d understand.
I kissed the left thigh, close enough to his balls that I smelled the sweat. Each brush of my lips elicited a soft gasp. It took willpower to resist the raw emotions bombarding me. Pride. Desire. Heat. I couldn’t separate them as they poured into me. Each held a tender note: love.
We had yet to say it aloud. Words seemed unnecessary when he could read my heart like an open book.
My tongue dragged along his balls, moving up his cock until it reached the head.
Before he groaned, I had the tip in my mouth.
I savored every inch as I greedily swallowed.
Before this ended, I’d have his load down the back of my throat.
Booker’s cock was like a steel bar when he got excited.
It was the perfect cock when I was on all fours, his hands on my hips.
Enough to hurt, but not so much that I didn’t want more.
I reached the base, the head in the back of my throat, just far enough that I couldn’t breathe.
Sliding my hands under his hips, I pulled him tighter, taking the last inch.
Now Booker moaned, hands reaching to the back of my head.
He tried thrusting, but I was in control. I would decide how he’d come.
I shot up, gasping for air.
As fast as my lungs could fill, I grabbed his hips, flipping him over.
Booker let out a grunt as his chest hit the desk.
His head shot up as if he might protest. The sight of his ass exposed, legs hanging off the desk, was more than I could take.
We were going to christen his office. There’d be plenty more grunting.
I loved the way his ass felt with a cheek in each hand.
Full. Soft. When I pulled them apart, his body relaxed.
He knew what was coming. Leaning forward, I dragged my tongue from the back of his balls to his hole.
With the slightest flick, he gasped. I didn’t want him gasping. I wanted Booker to beg.
Burying my face in his ass, I lapped at his hole as if I were starved.
Booker’s whimpering added fuel to the fire.
It’d have been fun to tease and torture, playing with him until he pushed back, demanding I shove my tongue inside him.
Running my beard up and down the crack of his ass, I continued licking his hole with each pass, making sure I gave him enough time to prepare for what came next.
“Fuck me.” There it was.
I rose, making sure he felt my cock pressing against the back of his balls.
Seeing him bent over his desk, ass waiting for me, I could have come without touching myself.
Booker’s hands held the edge of his desk, bracing.
I dragged my fingers along his ass, moving to the center of his back.
With anybody else, I’d have doubts. Did they really want me?
Need me? My insecurities rarely surfaced with him.
Licking my fingers, I coated the head of my cock.
Holding his hips, I kept Booker in place. Looking down, I watched the head disappear inside him. He tried taking more, but I wouldn’t let him move. He’d get more when I was ready. Sucking in my gut, I marveled at the tightness and heat. If I didn’t keep him in place, he’d try taking me all at once.
“Please,” he whimpered.
Closing my eyes, I savored every inch as I buried my cock inside my boyfriend.
By the time my balls pressed against his ass, Booker’s groans filled the small room.
I hoped his neighbors were out for the afternoon.
Every time my muscles flexed, he gasped.
Holding onto the edge of the desk, he tried pushing back, but he was no match for my strength.
I settled in, giving him the full length.
In and out. Every few strokes I’d shove in hard enough that he groaned.
A month ago, I couldn't have imagined being in charge. Now, I enjoyed every minute of using Booker for my pleasure. Though, to be fair, by the way he moaned, it wasn’t entirely for my pleasure.
He gripped my cock, squeezing tightly. I growled, picking up the pace.
I took it easy until I didn’t.
With each thrust, I buried my cock, balls slapping against his thigh.
Relentlessly, I slammed harder until Booker’s grunts grew loud enough to warrant a 9-1-1 call.
I pulled my cock free, giving him a moment to miss it before plowing into him.
As the orgasm grew, tickling the back of my balls, his desk slid inch by inch along the floor.
Tightening my hold on him, I pull him back hard.
I froze, unsure if I had tempted fate too— “I’m going to come.
” I ground my cock inside him, gyrating my hips so he could feel every pulse of cum unload inside his hole.
Between his powers and my need to breed my boyfriend, I lost count at six ropes of cum.
I didn’t pull out, not yet. I wanted every drop he earned deep inside him.
“Oh God,” he mumbled into the crook of his arm. “That’s going to hurt tomorrow.”
“Good,” I said, unable to fight off the smirk. “Call it revenge for all the times I’ve walked bow-legged from the bedroom.”
“Rude.”
I held still for the next minute, not wanting to separate.
Finally, my cock softened, falling from his hole.
If he thought that meant we were done, he was sorely mistaken.
I grabbed his legs, rolling him onto his back.
His cock was slick, precum rolling down his shaft.
I wanted that inside me. Every. Single. Drop.
With his legs on my shoulders, I swallowed the tip, running my tongue over his slit.
My orgasm might have faded, but his powers hadn’t relented.
I cupped his balls as I sank down, the head pushing against the back of my throat.
There was no finesse as I moved up and down.
The hint of salt only grew stronger as I continued sucking.
There’d be another day when I’d tease him until he begged to shoot.
Today, I knew exactly what I wanted, and he was going to—
“I’m coming.”
The intensity of his orgasm rippled outward, slamming into me like a superpowered blow to the chest. As he flooded my mouth with cum, my own cock sprang to attention.
Without touching myself, the orgasm tore through my body, my balls contracting.
As I swallowed my boyfriend’s load, I shot against his desk.
There were a lot of benefits to dating an empath.
Hands-free orgasms ranked pretty high on the list.
“Holy shit,” he grumbled. I gave him another slurp and Booker jerked forward, grabbing my head, pulling me free of his cock. “Nope. No. Not happening. You’ll have to wait for round two.”
He scooted to the side, giving me an empty spot to crawl next to him. On his desk, I wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him tight. With a kiss on his cheek, I rested my head on his chest.
“Damn,” I said.
“Damn,” he echoed.
“First day as a private dick—”
“And already seduced.” I ran my fingers across his stomach, the taste of salt still on my tongue. “The role-play potential is endless.”
In between ragged breaths, his head shot up.
It took a moment before I heard the familiar buzzing.
Wherever his phone had landed, it vibrated angrily across the floor.
He reached over the side, fishing for it.
“Booker Collins.” He hemmed and hawed while the voice on the other end of the line talked.
“Absolutely. Thanks, Dustin. I’ll be there… ” Booker glanced at me. “Soon.”
Wyatt’s boyfriend? Booker hung up and returned to draping his arm over my chest. “What did he want?”
“Booker Collins, private investigator, has his first client.”
Since leaving Synergy, Dustin had started a security firm.
With the rise in supervillains, Wyatt said he continued expanding.
With Hudson joining Dustin, I wondered if they’d have morning huddles in a break room.
Did they have a plucky admin assistant who barged in at every opportunity?
Maybe Tia would prefer being surrounded by beefy men in tactical gear?
“I suppose we should get dressed.”
Booker’s fingers trailed along my chest, following the hair down my stomach.
His powers were in full effect as goosebumps formed along my stomach.
The satisfaction vanished, replaced by a need to climb on top of my boyfriend and ride him until my hips ached.
Staring down the length of my body, I watched as my cock stiffened.
“Or we could try for—”
I swung my leg over him. His hands rested on my thighs. He stopped and stared, those beautiful green eyes locked with mine. His powers might have been the trigger, but it was knowing Booker saw me… all of me, that made me love him. My heart filled with emotion, almost too much to handle.
“Me too,” he said with a wink.
I could see my smile in the reflection of his eyes. I felt free to be seen.
“Make it quick,” I said. “Adventure awaits.”
It’d be the adventure of a lifetime.
For him. For me. For us.