More Than a Hotline Fling

-17-

Damian's POV

I need to pump some lead right now.

Once June identified Santino, the lineup disappeared. She initialed her information on a report and we were free to leave the 46th. The same NYPD supplies, message announcements, furniture, and gear set up in a different building layout. It was oddly familiar but something was off.

I was more than happy when we left, with a small wave from June at her new friend Sarah behind the front desk. Even in an unfamiliar precinct office for a perp ID, June carried herself with kindness, thanking officers for their service. A few stopped and blinked, which I would've also done if I wasn't so used to her... June-ness.

Why is she still with an asshole like me?

My hand extended in June's direction. Once my fingers brushed over hers, I curled her small, soft hand into my palm and squeezed it tightly. "I know where we can go to feel better."

June's softest and most suggestive voice always shot straight down to my balls. Even outside surrounded by rustling street noises, my focus narrowed on her down to the last pale freckle on her cheeks. She murmured quietly, with a tone reserved for confessing a naughty secret, and her full, pink lips pursed around one word.

"Really...?"

My free hand cupped my chin, facepalming my poor choice of words.

Why is every normal phrase or word dirty?

Interest brightened June's irises into glowing halos around her enlarged pupils. By the traitor that swelled between my legs, my lower head was in full agreement... Half-support to start but if I thought on her same wavelength then my cock pitched a tent for a June-only campout.

"Not that," I corrected, and adjusted, myself. When her eyes dimmed and an adorable pout graced her lips, I cupped my hand around her cheek. "Later."

"Promise?"

My thumb traced light arcs across her rash of freckles, which she didn't like but I did. Beyond pussy whipped by this woman, I still offered, "Promise."

We rode in silence back to the 34th, where I dropped off the cruiser. Once we hopped on my bike, a smile pulled across my mouth and relaxed my forehead. I was always happy when she sat with her front pressed against my back, her elbows and hands cupped around my ribs. When we rode together, it was so... comfortable.

Not even the below-freezing wind that whipped over me tore the dumbass smile off my face. When we stopped outside a familiar 56th Street stop with a rectangular, black awning and red and green neon letters in its name. A chuckle tickled my throat when a squeal erupted from behind me.

"Ahh!" June's arms squeezed my chest after I cut my engine. With a gasp, she leaned forward, crashing her helmet against mine so hard my eyes blurred.

Her cried out words muffled behind her helmet, "Oh my gosh!"

The heat packed in mine disappeared as soon as I removed it. I lifted June's up over her head, stray brown strands sticking in every direction, and her lips smashed against mine.

"Aww!" She rushed out words in between each of her chicken pecking kisses, "Thank - you - Damian!"

Lowering my chin, I shot her a smirk. She returned it with a sheepish smile, pink spreading across her cheeks, and another quick kiss. "You want to go in, June?"

"How is that a question?" Before I responded to her muttered statement, June climbed off the back of my bike and leapt onto the sidewalk. Her weight shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes danced with impatience, and both hands ushered me by waving at the glass entrance door.