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The afternoon is melting together into one long pastel-tissue-wrapped cooing headache-inducing blur. Drace wishes she were on patrol. She wishes she were on patrol with Bergan. On patrol with Bergan at the mall. Anything but this, the cutesy tasteless sandwiches and excited fluttering from all sides and self-congratulatory complaints as cousin Samantha shows off her swollen ankles and her ill-fitting pants. Anything but the snide delight in aunt Cindy's voice when she says how it's such a blessing that she gets to be a grandmother, and isn't it such a shame that there aren't more children in the family.
Drace stares out the window. It's a beautiful day. The sun is probably shining on the lake. The guys are probably up there already, with cajun burgers on the grill and a cooler full of Kingslayer Stout.
"Really, dear," aunt Cindy says, and it takes a moment before Drace realizes she's being addressed. "I know you must be jealous --" Jealous of what? Drace wonders. Samantha's not married, not working full-time, probably going to live with her parents and raise this baby, and it'll be lucky if its father stops by once a month with child support. There's a siren in the distance somewhere. Whatever the emergency is, Drace wishes she were responding to it. "-- but you should at least try to be happy for Sam. She looked up to you so much when you were little." The siren's getting louder. "It might not even be too late for you, you know. If you would just put a little effort into being more feminine --" and by now the siren is so close, so loud, that even aunt Cindy has to pause, for which Drace is grateful -- it's definitely more civilized than any answer she would have made.
The cruiser -- Zargabaath's, she thinks, but he never drives so hard -- screeches to a halt at the curb right outside. Drace starts up from her seat. She shouldn't, but she can't help thinking oh thank god. And then Noah gets out of the car.
His knock at the door is brisk, officious. Demanding. With the rest of the shower guests fluttering around to watch, Cindy goes to the door. Drace follows.
"I'm terribly sorry to intrude, ma'am," Noah says as soon as the door opens. "Is Officer Merlose here?"
"Noah," Drace says, and corrects herself, "Officer Ronsenburg. We have an emergency?"
He nods. "I'm afraid so. Your gun and your badge are in the car."
Aunt Cindy purses her lips as Drace steps forward. "Don't you have other people you could call?" she says plaintively. "Drace isn't on duty, and her family misses her so --"
"I am very sorry," Noah says. "But we have a hostage situation on our hands, and --" he looks at Drace -- "we need Officer Merlose's expertise."
"Sorry," Drace says to Cindy, and doesn't mean it at all. "Sorry, Sam! And congratulations!" Noah steps back and Drace ducks out the doorway in a rush.
The car's shocks creak under them as they pile in, and Noah is pulling away from the curb with siren blaring before Drace has even fastened her seatbelt. They make two high-speed turns on the way out of the subdivision, and then at the main road Noah slows, shuts off the siren and lights.
Drace looks over at him. "Hostage situation, hm?"
Noah smiles, pulling out onto the road. "Was I wrong? It sounded like a hostage situation to me."
"That was incredibly irresponsible and a misuse of police resources," Drace says. "Thank you."
"Just doing my duty, ma'am," Noah says. He reaches for the lights again. "You want to go get donuts or something?"
Drace laughs. It's almost tempting. "No," she decides. "I want you to park somewhere out of the way."
Noah raises an eyebrow, takes his eyes off the road for long enough to glance at her. "You planning to misuse police resources a little further, hmm?"
"Can't let you have all the bad ideas," Drace agrees.
Noah signals his turn for about half a second, then whips the car through the break in the median and heads back out of town. He pulls into the state park, and Drace has to laugh again. They've chased horny teenagers out of the dead-end service road in here plenty of times. "If Ghis shows up and bangs on the window when we're in the middle of things, I'm going to tell him it was your idea."
"Like he'd believe you," Noah says as he parks the car, "when you're clearly taking advantage of me."
"Not yet, I'm not." Drace unbuckles her seatbelt, shifts in her seat, leans over the gear between them to claim a kiss. He meets her halfway, his mouth hard against hers, reaching for her and biting at her lip as she presses toward him. She moans, her teeth scraping his tongue, and she can feel him pulling her blouse untucked. His hands are less callused than his brother's, but still rough against her skin as he slides one up to cup her breast. She arches into his touch as he pushes the thin fabric of her bra out of the way, and when he twists her nipple between his fingers the roughness makes a jolt of heat flare between her legs.
"Impatient," she says breathlessly. She steadies herself with one hand on Noah's shoulder, curled tight in the fabric of his uniform shirt, and reaches down with her other hand to palm his cock through his pants.
He laughs. "That's traditional, isn't it?" His kisses are wet, sloppy, and he rocks against her hand. "You don't go parking for a slow, easy fuck."
Drace smiles. "Fair enough." She lets him go, pulls back to unbutton her pants. "Tell me you're prepared."
"Always," Noah says, unbuckling his belt.
"More responsible than the teenage boys I remember," Drace says. She kicks her shoes off.
Noah snorts, shakes his head. "Shame on them, then." He unbuttons his pants and frees his cock, rolling a condom on as Drace hooks her thumbs in her pants and underwear together and squirms out of them.
She gets up on her knees, climbing over into the driver's seat as Noah slides down to make room. It's awkward, trying to find somewhere to put her knees, trying to shift down to meet him. She laughs. "I remember this being easier in cars with seats that recline."
"Not that much easier," Noah says. His hands slide up Drace's thighs, settling at her hips to pull her down. "I think everyone's standards are lower in high school, that's all."
Drace reaches down to hold him steady. "Lower standards, hmm? Not satisfied with this anymore?" She rocks her hips, rubbing the head of his cock against the slickness of her folds.
Noah shakes his head. "Trick question," he says, and Drace pushes down.
It's a little too soon, a little too fast, and it stings as she first rocks down onto his cock -- but the fullness feels good, and her fluids slick him, make it easier when she lifts herself up and pushes down again.
"God," Noah says. "God." He leans up into her, one hand sliding up under her blouse, the other wrapped around her back to hold her close as she clings to his shoulders.
"Yes," she breathes. He feels good there, the angle drawing her cunt tight around him, the pressure teasing and aching. His hand under her shirt palms one of her breasts, squeezes, rough and possessive. "More," Drace says. "Do that."
He holds her by the nape of her neck, pulling her down, biting at her throat. Drace shudders, her hips rocking, demanding hard, deep thrusts -- and Noah gets his fingers through her hair, wrecking her sorry attempt at styling it as he clenches his fingers and pulls, hard.
Drace hisses, keens, feeling the way her cunt clutches reflexively at his cock when he does that -- she lets him go with one hand, reaches down between them to press her fingers against her clit. She moans, pulling against his grip, and he bites again, his teeth scraping at the tendon in her throat.
"Good," Noah says, and it might be a question, enough like a question that Drace nods -- and Noah pulls harder on her hair, dragging her head back so she can't -- and her fingers are barely moving against her clit, just pressure to counterpoint the slide of Noah's cock inside her -- and his fingers catch her nipple and pull, hard, and she shudders, drawing tight down around him as she comes.
He's still thrusting when she's done, still pushing up in a rough, unsteady rhythm, so she leans into him, licks under his jaw where the stubble is just starting to grow in, bites the soft spot there and holds on as Noah drives up into her hard and fast with his breath harsh and hot against her neck -- and then he tenses under her, his cock pulsing inside her as the rest of him shudders still.
Drace leans back enough to meet Noah's eyes. He's smiling, a lazy, satisfied grin, and she can't help doing the same. "Mischief managed," she says.
Noah nods. "And Ghis didn't even show up to tell us to cut it out," he says. "Really, the law enforcement in this county is a disgrace."
"Waste of taxpayer dollars if I ever heard of one," Drace says. She leans down to kiss Noah, slowly, easily, feeling how relaxed he's gotten under her. "We should get going, yeah?"
"Yeah," Noah says. "Head up to the lake?"
Drace looks down at her half-open blouse. "Not sure I have the wardrobe with me for that kind of party."
"Lucky for you," Noah says, "I was thinking ahead." He nods at the passenger seat. "The bag on the floor over there has one of my spare t-shirts in it, and the pair of jeans you left up at the house last month."
"Wondered where those had gotten to. Have I mentioned lately what a good partner you are?" Drace asks.
Noah steadies her with one hand as she lifts herself off him. "I could stand to hear it again."
"Hm." Drace collapses into the passenger seat again, and pulls the bag open. He's brought his SWAT team shirt. It smells like him. "Thanks for the rescue. I think this might be a good day after all."
By the time she's gotten dressed again, he's cleaned up and is starting the engine. She buckles her seatbelt on the way to the park entrance, and Noah grins over at her. "Now?" he says. "Ready to go have some fun?"
"Let's go," Drace says.
"You got it," Noah says, and reaches for the lights.