Three times Mike Logan got fucked, prompt challenge for ci_fans_unite
Title: Three Times Mike Logan Got Fucked
Author: Squarey
Spoilers: None
Rating: M
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Summary (the prompt is an excellent summary): The title probably is the summary.
Note. Written for the April smut challenge at ci_fans_unite.
(seeking permission to cross post ;)
*
One.
I can feel my fingernails damn near break his skin as I rake them down his back. Right. There. Right. Now. I open my legs completely, running my thighs high up his sides. His elbows are to either side of my shoulders, pressing into me, as he presses into me. He kisses me, gasping, erratic. I nip at his lip, without the mental capacity for a kiss. Ragged. He’s ragged. Like my fingernails slipping and scratching on his back. Oh. There. Right. There. Fuck. There.
He collapses, I feel him let go. Completely. Just before his body hits mine I roll over out from under him to lie next to him, my sweaty side on his sweaty side. Like that, still, breathing fast, breathing normal. Minutes. Maybe? More than minutes.
Then, I’m out, out of his bed, shrugging into my dress, scanning the room for my shoes, my underthings. I need to go, I need to get home, I need to shower, I need to get to work. Holy crap. What the hell was I thinking last night? Correction, not thinking last night.
“What’s your name honey?” His eyes are green. More green than is natural. Horny. Well, post-horny.
“Why?”
“Case I need something to call you by.”
“You won’t be calling me.” I smile, make it nice. I got what I came for. Came for. Yes. Came for him. I’m out the door.
Two.
He doesn’t need my name to call me. He knows where I work so he can call on me. Old fashioned, calling on a girl. Though there was nothing old fashioned in what we did the other night. And, there’s nothing old fashioned in what I’m doing right now.
“Let me do that,” he mumbles against my ear kissing me in the hollow of my neck, he expertly shrugs out of his holster, setting his gun on his kitchen table. I’m sure he was thinking he didn’t want me dropping the thing, or maybe he’d rather have me undoing what I’m presently doing, which is releasing the pressure of his zipper. I rip it open and move my hands up and under his shirt. He’s got my blouse undone, my bra undone, he’s pushing at my skirt trying to move it down over my hips. With a frustrated groan he gives up on pushing my skirt off and simply pulls it up across my thighs as he pulls me up onto kitchen table. I’m touching him and touching me, making him hard, making me wet, spreading me open, pulling him to me, into me, my legs around him, my arms around him, I’m around him, barely on the table.
“What’s. Your. Name. Honey?” I gasp out the words to him against the rhythm of him in me.
“Why?” He teases me.
“Case.” Oh. “I need.” Oh. There. “Something.” Oh. “To call you by.” Right. Fucking. There. “Oh, God.”
“That’ll do.”
Three.
Cops. What the hell is it about cops? I have a thing for cops. Irish cops, like my grandfather. He was a bastard. But still. Maybe it’s my father. He’s not into cops, though he’s into the law, all about order. Right now I’m just into this cop. Well, he’s into me. Literally.
I throw him over onto his back, lace my fingers down his chest, let his skin dance beneath my touch. Green eyes on my eyes. Horny green eyes. He smirks, runs his thumbs in a circle on my breasts, makes me hard like he is hard. In me. Less in me. More in me. Oh. So. In. Me.
“Seriously honey, what’s your name.” He reaches up and pulls me over top of him, still in me, more play inside of me this way. My breasts on his chest. I nip at his ear lobe, kiss his mouth, hard, open.
“You first.” I say moving in such a way on top of him that I may not be talking about his name.
“Logan. Mike. Oh. Um. Logan.” His turn to nip at my ear, to find my mouth, to tease my tongue. Brain stops. Name. What’s in a name? Crap, I know his name. “You. Now.” He utters, and I’m not sure if he’s asking me for my name because he just did this thing with his uh, and it seems like now has a whole different meaning.
“Rebecca,” my voice is barely audible, just a gasp. He stalls for just a moment, looks at me carefully, into my eyes carefully, I see it in his eyes, same as I felt it in my brain. Logan. Familiar name.
“Oh fuck,” he throws me over onto my back. In. Me. One. Oh. Two. Oh. Three times you’re out. Every thing’s in a name.