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He didn’t like talking about feelings. You’d known this for as long as you’d known Gator Tillman. There are things, however, you noticed. How there was a golden hue in his eyes when the sun fell on his face, how his face twisted when he got annoyed. How he looked at you when you were the one annoying him, how you knew there were things he let you get away with.
How he filled you up, to the brim, his fingers digging into your hips, making your eyes roll back and an inexplicable sound leave your mouth, in a way no one had ever done before. Not that you’d had much experience. But you still knew - he was the best you’d ever have. So maybe that’s why you let him do whatever he wanted to you. You let him fuck you rough and deep on nights he was frustrated until all you could manage to cry was his name. The rare times when he was tender, his eyes glistening and he had bruises on his body he wouldn’t let you talk about or touch. When he whined softly as he came. But he didn’t let you bask in the warmth of his tenderness for long. He’d be up and gone before you could even say goodbye.
You saw him around town; he was hard to miss. Hard to avoid, in fact. He strutted around in his cargo pants and deputy vest, barely sparing you a glance if he saw you at the bar or in the store. The musk of his cologne intertwined with the faint scent of fruit as he walked by you in church. And you still looked every time. Not for long. Just a moment for yourself, to admire him. Because as much as you’d like to hate him, he was fucking beautiful. No matter how much he pissed you off, how much of a dick he could be. A small part of your heart belonged to him, even if he didn’t care. But a part of you always hoped, maybe he did. Deep down. You wouldn’t ever know for sure.
The first time he fucked you, you couldn’t explain why it even happened. You had bumped into him outside the local bar, both drunk and pissed about your own shit, and ended up arguing. Then somehow, you were on your knees on the dirty bathroom floor, sucking and drooling over his cock and he came in your mouth and made you swallow it up like a whore.
The next day you prayed to God and promised it wouldn’t happen again. Then you bumped into him after a church service, and he offered to drive you home. You should’ve known to say no, but a part of you had definitely known he’d take you to a secluded place and fuck you in the backseat of his cruiser.
You had told yourself that was last time; prayed to God even harder that night. Promised it wouldn’t happen again, begged the Lord for forgiveness and prayed that Gator would stay away from you. But that never seemed to stop him, nor you.
So naturally, when you heard the creak of your window opening and Gator climbed through, you weren’t surprised, even though he usually texted beforehand. You felt your body shiver with excitement. He lingered by the window for a moment, dropping his vest on the windowsill. He must’ve just finished his night patrol earlier than expected. His footsteps heavy against the wooden floorboard. The sound of him catching his breath as you reached over to turn your lamp on.
You hadn’t been expecting him tonight, you wanted to say, but that was a lie. You’d lie awake, wondering if he’d come, until eventually you fell asleep. Often waking with an empty ache if he hadn’t come over, especially if he said he would. But he didn’t owe you an explanation, you knew that.
A new, unfamiliar scent hit your nose that made you glance over. He was hitting his vape as he took off his boots. You finally glanced at him, watching him take his hat off, the dim yellow light of the lamp flickering across his features.
“Strawberry?” You asked, sitting up slowly, wrinkling your nose. It was late, but not abnormal to have Gator in here at this time. Your parents were sound asleep downstairs, they wouldn’t hear. Gator always made sure you were quiet anyway.
“Yeah, something wrong with it?” He asked, a slight edge to his voice as he took a step closer, his footsteps now softer.
“Just not very manly, is it?” You shrugged playfully, glancing up at him.
“You callin’ me a sissy?” He replied. You stifled a laugh as he pulled the covers off you, tossing his vape on the bedside table, the biting cold of the night air suddenly hitting you. He slid you down so you were lying on your back again.
He slotted himself between your thighs, pushing the hem of your thin, satin nightgown up slightly, his cold hands making you shiver. You couldn’t help but sigh, the weight of his warmth enveloping you. Sometimes you wished you were strong enough to push him away, tell him no. Not tonight, though. “Jesus, how are you not freezing?”
“I was warm under the covers until someone pulled them off me,” you retorted with a hum as his lips found your jaw, your head tilting back almost immediately against the pillow. He was in a different mood tonight. You could see it, the way he glanced at you, resting his chin on your chest. You wondered if something happened. Though, you wouldn’t dare to ask.
“Mhm, you want an apology? ‘Cause you’re not gonna get one, darlin’. I know you were waiting up for me,” he murmured softly, lips pressed against your neck. His large, calloused hand reached up your nightgown and between your thighs. He pressed his fingers against your panties that were already growing wet. “Seriously, it’s way too cold to be wearing this thing I can hardly call clothes.”
“I don’t recall you ever having an issue with them before?” You said with another hum. “In fact, thought you liked the easy access.”
He laughed a little, eyes crinkling in the way you hated. Because it meant you’d made him smile, and you hated how good it made you feel. “That’s true. So you’re wearing this just for me, huh?” He asked, fiddling with the tiny thin strap of the nightgown. “Should I say thank you, sweetheart?”
“Yeah you should,” you replied, biting your lip a little as he shifted on top of you, your body desperate for his touch.
His lips found your jaw again. “Thank you.”
“You’re being weird,” you couldn’t help but say, not used to this. You licked your lips, feeling him shift on top of you, a small groan leaving your mouth as you felt his growing bulge pressing against your thigh.
“Weird how, darlin’?” He asked. You were a little busy trying to contain your moan as his index finger hooked under the fabric of your panties, pushing them to the side.
“You’re being awfully nice,” you said earnestly, to which he simply hummed in acknowledgement, finger swiping up your entrance, eyes fixed down at your pussy. So, for some reason, you decided to push it a little. “Did something, um, happen?”
“I like this color on you,” Gator said, once again tugging on the strap of your lavender nightgown with his free hand, while the other continued circling your folds. “Makes me wanna fuck you.”
“I asked you a question.” You said, a little weakly. Knowing he wasn’t going to answer. Knowing you were gonna have to deal with not knowing why his lip was cut open.
He didn’t say anything in response, eyes fixed on yours as he gouged for your reaction as his finger rubbed against your clit, making a gasp escape your mouth before you could help it. And just like that, you were putty in his hands like you always were.
“There she is,” he mumbled softly as he added a little more pressure, almost intentionally making sure to use only one finger. “Missed this all week, hm?”
You hated how cocky he was. Actually, maybe you hated how right he was. That he hadn’t been over in almost a week and you missed him, the way he fucked you deep, the way he thrusted inside you. All you could do now was nod, a little too eagerly, hips bucking up against his finger. “Gator-”
“Shh,” he said, using his free hand to unbuckle his belt, throwing it to the side, pushing your nightgown up, bunching it around your hips. “Gotcha. Don’t worry.”
In the dim light, you could just about make out his freckles as he glanced down at you, pushing down his pants and boxers in one swift motion. The desperation from his body was evident now, the way he pumped his cock a few times. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you lifted your hips to help him slide down your panties. You didn’t miss the way he sniffed them briefly, eyes fluttering slightly as he continued pumping his cock.
Even though your body was used to his size by now, it still surprised you a little, how big he really was.
“I did,” you managed to whisper as you felt his tip rub against your slick entrance, back arching in anticipation. “I missed you, Gator.” You hated how desperate you sounded, knowing he’d relish in it, smirk and call you a whore like he usually did.
“Yeah?” he replied as he slid his cock inside you, slowly, little by little. He moaned softly. “Missed you too, all week. Thought of you.”
And you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but squeeze around him at his words, the way his hand gripped your hip under your nightgown, the other gripping the wooden headboard above you. The way he had admitted maybe for the first time ever that he missed you. He groaned in response.
“You tryna kill me, baby?” Gator practically groaned as he pushed his cock in all the way, filling you up to the brim just like he always did, stretching you out in a way that made you whimper. “God, you’re tight.”
Your eyes fluttered as he thrusted in you a few times, his lips finally finding yours, tender and soft. You loved it when he was like this. When he gave more of himself away than normal. Your hand found his cheek and you kissed him back with fervor, your tongue tangling with his. Your leg wrapped around his waist, hips rocking up to meet him halfway. He groaned in response, littering your neck in open-mouthed kisses as he fucked into you with a tenderness so rare you found yourself staring up at him in awe, mouth slightly agape.
“Mhm, please,” you found yourself saying, just for the sake of speaking. “Gator, yes, more.”
He picked up the pace slightly as per your request, his face buried in the crook of your neck, rocking into you deep with his cock, hitting your walls in a way that made your eyes roll back, trying to meet his thrusts. His pace was languid, slower than usual, like he was trying to savor this. You didn’t mind, moaning as his thumb found your clit amidst it all.
“Focus on me, mhm?” he said with a softness in his voice, thrusting deep into you, moving his face away from your neck to glance down at you. “Quiet for me, yeah? Don’t want your poor parents waking up.”
Your head fell back against the pillow, meeting his gaze, almost in a state of surprise as he kissed you again as he fucked into you deeper (if even possible) and a little faster, groaning into his mouth as pleasure swirled inside your stomach, intense and passionate. You couldn’t hold back a moan as it built up more, only increasing as Gator increased his pace.
“Missed me, yeah?” He managed to say between groans, his pants heavy. You nodded eagerly, the familiar haze starting to take over your brain, losing the ability to speak. Gator had never been so needy before. You almost didn’t know how to act, but lucky for you, all you could manage to do was moan, the pleasure taking over your body, your mind.
He pressed his lips against yours as you came to mask the whines escaping your mouth, and you knew he wasn’t far behind you, the way his thrusts were getting a little sloppier and deeper. You grasped at your sheets as you felt him come inside you, a soft whine leaving his mouth as he did, one that made you stare up at him in awe. The way his breaths were rapid and heavy, eyes half-open, slightly glassy from the pleasure.
Without another word, he pulled out of you, slumping beside you as both of you came down from your high. It wasn’t until you glanced over at him that you noticed his hand was intertwined with yours.
You were waiting, waiting for him to stand up and leave without glancing back, but he stayed lying beside you on his back for a while longer. You could feel his eyes on you as you fixed the nightgown and slipped your panties back on. For a moment, you watched him pull his pants back on, but when he glanced up, you looked away, pulling the covers over you to seem busy. You’d never done this before. He was usually long gone by now.
The chill of the fall air was starting to creep back into the room. His breaths were now stable, slow. For a moment, you thought maybe he had fallen asleep.
“Had an argument with my father,” he spoke finally, gesturing vaguely for his vape. You obliged, picking it up from your bedside table and handing it to him. “That’s what happened.”
You blinked in surprise, almost afraid to speak, as if it would shoo him away, like a scared stray cat. “Oh,” was all you could muster, your fingers trailing across his arm soothingly, your eyes barely open now, exhaustion seeping through you. You turned on your side to face him, watching him fiddle with the vape, his gaze fixed on your ceiling. “What happened?”
He was quiet again. “Nothin’ for you to worry about.”
Eyelids heavy, you hummed in response. You continued tracing his arm with your finger, pushing at the sleeve to trace over his tattoo. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. Maybe the exhaustion is what helped you muster up the courage to ask, “you wanna stay the night, Gator?”
He took a long hit from his vape, the strawberry scent filling the air. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed, the edge to his voice returning. But he turned on his side and looked at you, sniffing slightly. You shut your eyes then, unable to fight the exhaustion anymore.
And for once, he wasn’t gone in the morning, fast asleep beside you when you woke up in the early hours of dawn. But you couldn’t know what this meant. Not for sure.