Rosa's ass.

Rosa’s ass.

It was right there - so close he could feel the faint heat of her body, could smell the clean leather of her jacket mixed with whatever subtle scent she wore. The pink thong was a thin, teasing line vanishing between those firm cheeks, and the longer he stared the harder it became to think about anything else.

Jake’s heart hammered. This was risky. Extremely risky. If anyone caught him - if Rosa caught him - it would be the end of everything: his career, his friendships, maybe even his life, knowing how she handled people who crossed her. One wrong second and he’d be finished.

But if he didn’t get caught…

He decided in a single reckless heartbeat. Screw it.

Jake shoved his pants down just far enough, freed his cock, and gave himself three desperate strokes. That was all it took. Thick, hot cum pulsed out in a heavy line, landing right along the narrow strip of pink fabric and immediately beginning to drip down onto the dark material of her trousers. He watched, breathless, as the white streak marked her - owned a tiny piece of her without her even knowing.

In the next second he tucked himself away, zipped up, and forced his hands onto the desk like nothing had happened. His pulse roared in his ears as he scanned the bullpen.

No one was looking. Amy was still talking. Hitchcock and Scully were half-asleep at their desks. Holt was nowhere in sight.

Nobody had seen a thing.

The post-nut clarity hit hard and fast. That was insane. Completely, career-endingly insane. And yet… it had been worth every second of risk. The sight of his cum already starting to soak into the fabric of her pants sent a fresh, residual throb through him.

A minute or two later Rosa straightened, finished with whatever detail she’d been discussing with Amy.

“Thanks for the desk, Peralta,” she said casually, already turning away.

Jake managed a normal-sounding “Yeah, no problem,” even as his eyes locked onto the slow, glossy trail of cum that had begun to drip lower down the curve of her ass as she walked. The white line stood out against the dark trousers, sliding with every subtle sway of her hips.

God, that was hot.

He watched her all the way back to her own desk, heart still racing, already wondering how long the evidence would last - and whether he’d ever get the chance to do something even riskier.