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Anita May sat in the passenger seat, uniform crisp, eyes on the dark street ahead. Daisy Dukakis drove their Charger through Los Santos, the engine’s rumble steady beneath them. Streetlights flickered past, casting patterns on the dashboard. Anita twisted her grip on the door handle, aware of how tight her uniform felt.
“Long night,” Daisy said, glancing at Anita through the rearview mirror. “You good?”
Anita blinked. “Yeah,” she lied, though her fingers still trembled. She’d spent the last hour replaying Daisy’s look back at her in the briefing room—something in those green eyes had sent a jolt through her.
Daisy tapped the steering wheel. “Let’s loop around one more time before heading back,” she said. Anita nodded, heart pounding. They turned down a quiet side street, the alleys opening on either side. The Charger’s headlights cut through shadows.
Anita clicked on her flashlight, shining it into a dumpster’s shadow. She crouched on the floorboard, skirt riding up her thigh. The cool metal beneath pressed into her legs. Daisy parked, engine humming. She stepped out and circled to Anita’s side, the patrol light cutting through the gloom. “Keep an eye,” Daisy murmured. She placed a hand on Anita’s knee—bare skin beneath the skirt—and squeezed lightly.
A shiver ran through Anita. She looked up at Daisy, surprised by the heat in her gaze. Stones rattled in the alley, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the space between them. Daisy’s hand edged higher, brushing Anita’s inner thigh.
“Daisy,” Anita whispered, breath catching. “We’re on duty.” But she didn’t pull away. Daisy’s thumb caressed the seam of Anita’s panties, sending a spark straight to her core.
Daisy leaned close, lips near Anita’s ear. Her breath was warm. “I know,” she whispered. “But we’re alone.” Her fingers slid under the fabric, finding Anita’s wetness. Anita inhaled sharply, pressing closer to Daisy’s hand.
Daisy’s lips brushed Anita’s neck, teeth grazing her skin. Anita tilted her head, exposing more of her throat. Daisy’s hand curled into Anita’s thigh, fingertips teasing her folds through the thin fabric. Every slow stroke made Anita’s uniform dampen.
Anita’s fingers twined through Daisy’s hair—red strands slipping between her fingers. Daisy paused, eyes dark and shining. She backed up, letting the Charger’s red-and-blue lights wash over her. Under that glow, she looked both dangerous and beautiful.
Daisy tugged off her jacket and uniform shirt in one motion, tossing them onto the hood. Her bra was dark blue, lace edging. Anita’s breath caught at the sight of Daisy’s bare chest. Daisy’s hands trailed down her own torso, then stopped at her belt. She undid it, slipping out of her jeans until only lacy panties remained.
Anita climbed out of the car and stepped around to Daisy’s side. Daisy pulled her into the open, pressing her against the cool metal of the car door. The night air whispered around them.
Daisy cupped Anita’s cheek, thumb brushing over her lower lip. “God, I’ve wanted this,” she said. Then she kissed Anita—soft at first, a brush of lips. Anita tasted leather from the car seat and something sweeter—Daisy’s warmth.
Daisy’s hands went to Anita’s uniform shirt, tugging it up until it bunched at her ribs. Anita’s bra straps showed as Daisy slid her fingers under the fabric, unhooking it in one smooth motion. Anita’s breasts fell free. Daisy pressed a kiss to each nipple, one after the other, teasing until Anita moaned.
Anita threaded her fingers through Daisy’s loose strands, pulling her closer. Daisy’s kisses trailed down Anita’s torso until she reached the waistband of Anita’s skirt. With one swift tug, Daisy freed Anita—skirt and panties pooled at her ankles. Anita’s boots were the only thing keeping her grounded.
Daisy knelt in front of her, eyes flicking up to meet Anita’s. “Stay with me,” she murmured. Then she eased one hand between Anita’s thighs, sliding her fingers through the dampness. Anita hissed, back arching.
Daisy’s tongue joined in, tracing slow circles around Anita’s clit. The night air bit at Anita’s overheated skin. She gripped Daisy’s hair, urging her deeper. The Charger’s engine idled, the only witness to their rising heat.
“Does that feel good?” Daisy murmured, eyes locked on Anita’s as she moved. Anita could only nod, hips shifting to meet every flick of Daisy’s tongue. Daisy swirled slower, then faster—teasing, building.
“Look at how wet you are,” Daisy teased, lifting Anita’s thigh higher. “Just for me.” Anita’s cheeks burned as she met Daisy’s gaze. Daisy paused, letting her feel the ache of anticipation before plunging back in.
Anita’s legs trembled as Daisy’s mouth worshipped her. Every flick of Daisy’s tongue sent fireworks through her body. When Anita’s hips lifted to meet the rhythm, Daisy moaned around her clit, steady and sure.
Anita’s breath quickened. She tried to speak, but only a strangled moan emerged. Daisy slid a second finger inside, curling against the spot that blew Anita’s senses wide open. Anita’s knees buckled, but Daisy caught her, holding her in place as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her.
When Anita stilled, Daisy pulled back, kissing the inner curve of her thigh. Anita’s legs were jelly. Daisy rose, pulling Anita close. Her body pressed against Anita’s, the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin fabric of Anita’s skirt.
Daisy slipped between Anita’s legs, seating her on the car’s hood. The metal was cold, a sharp contrast to Daisy’s heat. Daisy’s hand found Anita’s breast, kneading gently, thumb circling the nipple until it hardened. She pressed her own chest against Anita’s, leaning forward to capture her mouth in a hungry kiss.
Anita moaned into Daisy’s lips, one hand tangled in red hair, the other trailing down Daisy’s back. Daisy’s other hand settled at Anita’s hip, guiding her skirt higher until it bunched around her waist. Then Daisy flicked her fingertips near Anita’s clit, collecting the slickness from earlier.
“Ride me,” Daisy whispered. She positioned herself, the tip of her cockhead brushing against Anita’s wetness through her damp panties. “I want to feel you squeeze me.” Anita wrapped her legs around Daisy’s waist, pulling her in, and ground down. The pressure sent a delicious ache through her core.
Daisy groaned as Anita moved. She guided Anita’s hips, matching each thrust with her own. The cold hood of the Charger pressed against Anita’s back, but she barely felt it. All she felt was Daisy filling her, stretching her, and the delicious friction of their bodies.
“How does that feel?” Daisy murmured, leaning down to kiss Anita’s shoulder. Anita could only arch her back, replying with a breathless moan.
Daisy bent lower, capturing Anita’s nipple in her mouth while she thrust. Anita’s back arched, one hand mapping the curve of Daisy’s spine, the other gripping Daisy’s shoulder. Their movements became harder, faster; leather shifted beneath them as they ground together.
“Tell me you want me,” Daisy urged, voice rough. Anita’s breath caught, and she whispered, “I need you.”
Daisy reached between them, slipping fingers inside Anita’s dripping heat. She stroked up and down, adding another layer of pressure. Anita’s head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as sensation built inside her.
“Daisy…” she gasped. Her whole body trembled.
Daisy’s own breath hitched. She shifted, wedging Anita’s legs around her hips tighter, then slammed forward—deep and slow, building to a frantic rhythm. The night air carried their ragged breaths. Daisy’s moans mingled with Anita’s cries.
Anita slammed herself onto Daisy’s cock, meeting each thrust with plunges of her own. Daisy’s hands fisted in Anita’s hair, holding her head as she pounded into her. The tension climbed, coiling tight inside both of them.
When Daisy’s thrusts stuttered, Anita pressed her body forward, brushing her clit against Daisy’s pubic bone. A shuttering moan tore from Daisy’s throat. Daisy’s hips jerked once, twice, and she spilled into Anita, her release rocking them both.
Anita’s legs clenched around Daisy, holding her fast until the tremors left Daisy’s body. Then her own release followed a wave of white-hot pleasure that stole her breath. She collapsed against Daisy’s chest, head spinning.
They stayed like that for a long moment, Daisy’s arms wrapped around Anita, holding her against the cold metal of the Charger. Outside, the world moved on—cars passed, distant sirens wailed—but inside, there was only the hum of the engine and the steady beat of two hearts.
Anita opened one eye and looked at Daisy’s face. Her lips curved in a tired smile. “We should go back to the precinct,” she whispered, voice soft.
Daisy kissed the crown of her head. “One more minute,” she murmured, tightening her arms. They lingered there, bodies warm in the night—partners on patrol, partners in everything that mattered.