Chicago Heat(8)

By: Jordyn Tracey


John lowered the tone of his voice. “I said, get lost. Now.” The man held up his hands, backpedaled, and walked off. John spun to face her. “Didn’t I tell you there were unsavory characters out here? You should have listened to me.”

She pouted and rested her hands on his chest while stepping close to him. She liked how his body responded to her touch, and if she was ready to take it to the next level, she would have explored him lower. But that wasn’t happening on the first date. She wasn’t that desperate. “Aw, but you were here to rescue me, my big bad cop.”

Annoyance radiated from him. She knew how to tease him out of the funk she got him in. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched up to his cheek and placed a light kiss there. His eyes widened. “What was that for?”

“For being my hero.”

John put his badge away and ran a hand through his hair. The irritation seemed to melt away just like she expected. “I see you’re a handful already.”

“Yes, but that’s a good thing,” she promised and turned brushing her body against his. She took his hand and tugged him along. “Let’s go find somewhere to dance. I have a bad need to shake my booty.”

John went along with her, and soon they found a club. Fawn made sure it wasn’t one frequented by Mackie. She didn’t need a repeat of the last time she’d seen him, and besides that she wanted to enjoy her time with John. He might be too cautious because of all he had seen in his line of work, but he was intelligent and fun to talk to you. He was fine, generous, and attentive. Best of all, although she could tell he wanted her like crazy, he didn’t pressure her or try to trick her into letting him take her to bed. That in itself was a super bonus.

Fawn weaved her way through the wiggling bodies in the club while holding tightly to John’s hand. When she reached the bar and he stood beside her, she ordered a Sex on the Beach. She eyed John. “You should get a Sex on My Face.”

To her satisfaction, John’s face reddened, but to his credit, he recovered fast and leaned in close to her to whisper in her ear. “I prefer the real thing rather than a drink. Nothing could be that good.”

“Now who’s the naughty one?” She laughed and began swerving her hips to the song that had just started.

When she had her drink, she took a few sips and watched John drink a beer over the rim of her glass. She let him get a third of the way done before she dragged him out on the floor. Her arms in the air and her hair swinging left and right, she danced up close to John, turned, and teased him with her ass. He didn’t move with her same fluid motions, but when he rested his hands on her hips and let his thighs brush her, a thrill zipped through her body. They gyrated through four songs before Fawn took a break.

Later, during a slow song, Fawn curled into John’s arms, loving the feel of being protected. They swayed together with the rhythmic beat, and when she tilted her head back to look up at him, he captured her lips in an amazing kiss she felt down to her toes. She let his tongue part her lips, and she sucked it a moment before pushing hers into his mouth. She felt rather than heard a groan rumble up from his throat. His cock was thick and solid between them. She longed to stroke it, to wrap her legs around his waist, but she held back.

After some time, John broke the kiss and moved his head toward her neck. He skimmed his lips over her skin, sending chills throughout her system. She pressed in closer. “Oh, we really shouldn’t be doing this,” she said.

“Mm,” he agreed. “It’s just a kiss, but that can be dangerous.”

“Yes.” She nibbled his ear. John’s hand clenched on her back.

When she was on the verge of suggesting they find a private place, he pulled back and put her from him. His breathing was heavy and his eyes clouded. She looked at him in confusion, but he reached into his pocket to pull out a cell phone. The display was lit, so he must be getting a call. John held up a finger for her to wait as he answered. When he left the floor, she followed him. Near the front entrance, they stopped, and Fawn stood beside John while he spoke with Kevin. She knew it was the ten-year-old by the way John’s face softened and the fact that he often called him “bud” or “buddy”. She thought it was sweet. They might be uncle and nephew, but their closeness was like father and son. Seeing their interchange over the phone made her heart ache for something more in her own life.