Chapter Text
Reagan Knight locked her truck and stomped into the bar. Bond was tending tonight, and she was in desperate need of a drink. And to kick Rhys’s ass, but that was for another day. If she were to see him now, she might kill him. She flashed her ID at Ryan at the door and he let her in. It was Tuesday night, so the bar wasn’t too crowded. She didn’t have class until noon the next day, so she could stay out late tonight. She ignored the looks that she got from the bar patrons for being in her gym clothes still and sat at her usual place at the corner of the bar furthest from the door. If Rhys was dumb enough to follow her, she wanted to see him come in.
“What can I get for you tonight, Reagan?” Bond stood behind the bar, reaching behind him for her usual whiskey.
“No whiskey, tonight. I might do something I regret if I drink that. Got anything new in the beer department?” Bond was always ordering new beers to try out from local breweries all across the country. He boasted the widest drink selection in the entire town, and he was damn proud of it.
“I’ve got a Lemon and Ginger Raddler in from some place in the MidWest. Very summery, and they only make it for a few months every other year or so.” He reached in one of the coolers and pulled out a yellow can. “Glass?” He asked her.
“I don’t give a fuck.” Reagan let her dark hair out of the bun she had it in and readjusted it into a loose ponytail.
“So what’s got you in a tizzy? That asshole Rhys again?” Bond popped the top of the can and set it directly in front of her. She took a gulp without really tasting it.
“Fucker got jealous of one of my students. He seems to think we’re in some kind of exclusive…. Thing.” She didn’t dare say the word ‘relationship’ in reference to whatever she and Rhys had. They had sex. They worked out together. They had dinner once, though it was just chinese food between the gym and her bedroom. “He screws around with other girls, and then gets mad when I’m training some guy for the wrestling team. He even bitches about not wanting to wear a condom. Just… ugh!” She took another drink, taking care to actually taste the liquid. It was light, a little sweet, and very bright. It still tasted like a beer, but it was unlike most beers that she had ever had. “This is good. Thanks for the recommendation.” She turned her stool and leaned against the bar. She watched the door as another customer entered.
He was tall, around six feet, and very lean. Red hair poked out of the ball cap that he had on his head. He looked only a couple of years older than her. He wore bootcut jeans, and a plaid button up. His eyes were shadowed under the brim of his hat, but she would have to be blind to not see the healthy spattering of freckles on his face and leanly muscled arms. He looked around the bar, as if he were unsure that he wanted to be here, before spotting Bond and making his way toward the bar. He sat with one stool between himself and Reagan and ordered a drink. Bond reached for a glass and drew amber liquid from one of the many taps in his arsenal.
“I can’t place your accent or face, kid. And I know everybody in these parts. New in town?” He asked the stranger.
“Yeah. I’m the new chopper pilot for the PD. The name’s Michael Glass. Some of the boys at the station recommended this place.” He looked at Reagan and winked, and she could finally see what color his eyes were. A deep, forest green. “Though, they didn’t say you had such pretty girls here.”
Despite being used to hearing lewd comments from men all of her adult life, Reagan blushed at the compliment. She certainly didn’t come to the bar to be told she was pretty tonight, being in her gym clothes and coming directly from teaching a two hour long kickboxing class, but she appreciated the flattery, nonetheless.
“She’s definitely one of the prettiest, I keep offering her a job, but she turns me down. Sales would go up with her at the bar, I know it.” Bond smiled at her. She knew what he was doing, and she wasn’t sure it would work, but she was willing to try.
“Ah, Bond, you know me. I don’t sell it, I only drink it. Another Raddler, please?” She pushed the now empty can toward Bond for him to recycle as he opened another yellow can and set it in front of her. “You said your name was Michael? What brings you to our neck of the woods?” She took another deep drink from her beer and watched as Michael unconsciously followed her moves.
“I needed a fresh start. I’d never really left my home town for more than vacation. I heard there was an opportunity out here and I applied. I packed my bags so quickly when I got the offer. It’s nice. Being somewhere that nobody knows your name. And your name would be?”
“I’m Reagan, I can see the appeal. I grew up with parents in the military. We moved a lot when I was a kid. Didn’t get to keep many friends, but I got to go to nine different schools growing up. I think this is the longest I’ve been in once place. It’s kind of nice, after not being able to really settle before.” Why was she telling him this? Why was she leaning towards him? What kind of cologne did he use? He smelled incredible.
“I’ve had friends with military parents. We lost contact after they moved away. Kinda sucks, but now that we have social media, I could probably find them again. Don’t know if I could recognize them after so many years, though.” The helicopter pilot chuckled and finished his drink. “Though, I would settle for getting to know you better.” He abandoned his empty glass to take her hand in his. Long fingers stroked over her rough knuckles.
“Bond, close my tab.” Reagan managed to get out before she closed the remaining distance between herself and Michael and kissed him. His lips were rough, but gentle and practiced. “Where do you live?” She whispered to Michael before he got in another kiss.
“Apartments around the corner, actually.” He breathed, before taking her hand and leading her out of the bar.
It felt like an eternity before they were safely in his bedroom. It was dominated by a queen size bed with black sheets and a white comforter. The door shut and he was on her again, pushing her against the door and nibbling on her neck. It was rare that she found a man taller than her, Rhys was three inches shorter and had to reach to get to her neck sometimes. Michael was pressed against her and she could feel his erection digging into her thigh through their clothes. They helped each other undress as they blindly stumbled to the bed. As Michael hit the mattress, her bra went flying and she heard a small thunk as it hit a wall. They were both down to just their underwear, and she could feel his length pulsing against her heat.
He gripped her by her thighs and rolled them over. Fingers of one hand found their way to her nipple and began pinching and twisting the sensitive bud. The other hand pushed aside the fabric of her thong. He dragged a finger through her folds, testing her wetness. He seemed to not be satisfied with the amount of natural lubrication she had at the moment, because she felt him sliding down the bed to kneel on the floor and he was dragging her with him. He pulled off her underwear and wasted no time burying his face in her. Reagan couldn’t help but gasp as his tongue traced her nether lips and drew circles around her clit. His hands were wrapped around her hips and by the way he was moaning while eating her out, there was nothing else that he would rather be doing. Her partners very rarely went down on her, and it was almost never without her asking for it.
She was approaching her climax quickly, and Michael showed no signs of letting up on his assault. “Michael, oh god.... Fuuuck, I’m gonnaaaAA.” The last word trailed off into a high pitched moan as her orgasm took over. Her hips bucked and she reached down to tangle her fingers in his red hair.
Michael crawled back up her, kissing and nipping his way up. She felt, rather than saw him reach into a drawer in his bedside table and pull out a foil packet. “You want to keep going?” he asked breathlessly. The smell of her own arousal was on his breath and it was one of the hottest things she could imagine at the moment. She nodded mutely and watched as he stripped his underwear off and rolled the condom on.
He positioned himself at her entrance and paused again. “Are you sure?” He asked. Her answer was to roll her hips upward and slide onto him. He groaned and let his weight fall on his arms as they adjusted to each other. Slowly, he began thrusting. Reagan knew just how to angle herself to ensure she hit her climax. His pelvis rubbed against her clit with every thrust, and the small bedroom was filled with the sounds of pleasure. He seemed to collect himself and readjusted, placing her legs on his shoulders. He began thrusting with renewed vigor, the new speed and angle doing things to Reagan that she normally only did with herself.
“Oh yes, right there! That’s perfect!” Reagan’s second orgasm of the night was fast approaching. She could tell he was getting close when he dropped her legs and didn't pick them back up. He bent his head down and kept groaning. “Keep doing that,”she encouraged with a low whisper in his ear. “You feel so good inside me.” The bit of dirty talk caused him to moan in her ear and thrust harder. “That’s right,” she continued. “Keep fucking me nice and hard. I’m so close to cumming around your cock.” It became hard to form coherent sentences after that, because Michael was pounding into her and it was all she could to do not scream and wake the neighbors. When her climax hit,she bit down on his freckled shoulder, tasting the salty tang of his sweat on his skin. He followed soon after her, groaning in her ear and slowing his thrusts to a stop.
He pulled out and rolled over onto his back. “Wow, that was..”
“Yeah,” Reagan agreed. She didn’t know she needed that until she got it. She felt the mattress move and saw Michael’s pale skin as he went to the door.
“Be right back,” he promised, before disappearing down the hall. She heard running water and he appeared less than a minute later with a damp cloth. He leaned on the bed and gently wiped her off. The gesture was so intimate, something that she wasn’t used to, and Reagan found herself blushing again. “You’re, um, welcome to stay. I don’t have to work tomorrow.” He offered. Another first for her. Rhys was usually out the door by now.
“I’d like that.” she smiled at him.
Michael reached down and guided her legs up and then underneath the covers. Once she was sufficiently covered, he made his way to the other side of the bed and slid in. Before she could ask how he wanted to sleep, she found him spooning against her. “Is this okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. It’s perfect.” She yawned, post orgasm sleepiness taking over as his hand snaked around her waist.
“Sleep well.” was whispered in her ear as she drifted off.