The Ultimate Showdown
When they pulled up to her building, Ramirez walked her to her door.
Detective Ramirez: “So, I promised I’d be a gentleman.”
Santos: “You did. And you were. All through dinner.”
Detective Ramirez: “But dinner’s over now.”
Santos: “Yes it is.”
She stood at her door, key in hand, both of there
heart racing.
Santos: “Do you want to come in?”
Detective Ramirez: “More than anything. But Santos, if I come in there, I’m not going to be able to keep my hands—or my mouth—to myself.”
Santos: “And?”
Detective Ramirez: “And I want to do this right. I want you to know that this isn’t just physical for me. You are not just another woman. You are—”
Santos grabbed his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss that shut him up completely.
It was different from their other kisses. This one was slower, deeper, more intentional. This one said “I want you” and “I want this” and “Don’t you dare stop.”
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Ramirez rested his forehead against hers.
Detective Ramirez: “Okay, screw all that gentleman crap. If you want me, I’m coming in.”
Santos: “I thought you’d never ask.”
She unlocked her door, and they stumbled inside, hands already reaching, mouths already seeking.
Santos: “Bedroom. Now.”
Detective Ramirez: “Yes ma’am.”
He picked her up—literally swept her off her feet—and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her down the hall, his mouth never leaving hers.
They tumbled onto her bed with in a tangle pent-up tension from all week of wanting each other.
Ramirez pulled back just long enough to look at her.
Detective Ramirez: “You sure about this?”
Santos: “Ramirez, if you stop now, I will arrest you for cruel and unusual punishment.”
Detective Ramirez: “Can’t have that.”
He started kissing her neck, and Santos gasped.
Santos: “Oh God, here we go again.”
Detective Ramirez: “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Santos.”
His hands worked the zipper of her dress while his mouth traced a path down her back while unzipping her dress. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss placed with love.
Santos: “You know are good at this?”
Detective Ramirez: “Patience . Patience. And you—you make it easy.”
The dress came off. Then his shirt. Then everything else, piece by piece, until there was nothing between them but skin.
And then Ramirez showed her exactly why they called him Hurricane Tongue.
And why Santos Tsunami might have been more accurate for her.
His mouth was everywhere—her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, lower, lower, living up to the name Hurricane Tongue. He had Santos gripping the sheets and calling out his name.
Santos: “Oh God… Ramirez… I can’t… it’s too much…”
Detective Ramirez: “You can take it, Santos. Just let go.”
And she did. Over and over until she lost count, her voice was hoarse, the neighbors were definitely going to complain.
When he finally stopped and kissed her body all the way up to her lips, she could taste herself on his lips.
Santos: “My turn.”
She pushed him back on the bed —and returned the favor with interest.
By the time they finally came together, they were both desperate, both completely into each other.
It was intense and passionate and absolutely perfect.
After, they lay tangled together, sweaty and smiling like idiots.
Santos: “So, that happened.”
Detective Ramirez: “That definitely happened. Multiple times.”
Santos: “I think I need to revise my assessment.”
Detective Ramirez: “Oh?”
Santos: “Hurricane Tongue is insufficient. You need a new classification. Something beyond tsunami.”
Detective Ramirez: “I’m listening.”
Santos: “I’m thinking… Apocalypse Tongue.”
Ramirez burst out laughing.
Detective Ramirez: “Apocalypse? Really?”
Santos: “Well, you did just end my world Multiple times. What else would you call it?”
Detective Ramirez: “Thats a good point. Although I prefer to think of it as a new beginning rather than an ending.”
Santos snuggled closer to him, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Santos: “Ramirez?”
Detective Ramirez: “Yeah?”
Santos: “I’m glad Henderson didn’t kill me. This would have been a terrible thing to miss.”
Detective Ramirez: “Santos, nothing and no one is ever going to hurt you again. Not while I’m around.”
Santos: “Is that the Hurricane talking or the man?”
Detective Ramirez: “Both. Always both.”
They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, the storm finally calm.
At least for now.