Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
JOSEPHINE “JO” BOOKER
I think I’m having an outer body experience. It’s the only rational excuse for how I’ve let things veer off course. I mean one minute I’m hiding on the floor, begging him not to look at me, and the next I’m riding Johnny’s cock like it’s my God-given right.
But it feels too good.
For the first time since Detective Reynolds called, I’m not plagued by misery. My mind isn’t a hostage to my anxious thoughts. I’m not the grieving sister with a boat load of responsibilities. I’m a woman taking advantage of an escape route. The only thing I’m concerned with is my pleasure, and I can’t find it in me to be apologetic about it.
“That’s it, baby, squeeze my cock with your tight little cunt,” Johnny growls.
It’s the second time his cock is deep inside my pussy, the first was after I sucked his cock, and he shot his load down my throat. He ate me out, fucked my tits, then buried himself to the hilt, coming all over my tits when he was done. Now, it’s me in the driver’s seat. I’m up five orgasms and going for my sixth.
My thighs bracket his, and I brace my hands against his chest, as I lower my gaze, and lift off him, watching as his cock slowly slides out of my body.
Sinking back down, I rock forward, my clit scraping against the neatly trimmed pubic hair, creating just enough friction to ignite my orgasm. My head rolls back, and my hips start moving faster as my body spasms and my pussy constricts around his massive cock.
Nothing.
And I do mean nothing.
Has ever felt this good.
“Yes,” I chant. “Yes. Oh God, yes.”
Johnny’s hands move from my tits to my hips, gripping them hard enough that I’m sure I’ll have bruises in the morning, and thrusts into.
Harder.
Faster.
Over and over.
“Fuck yes,” I cry as the last bit of my orgasm rolls through me, completely draining me. Unable to keep myself upward, I collapse over him.
But he’s not finished with me.
I don’t know that he ever will be.
Keeping his cock buried inside me, he rolls us so that I’m on my back. I blink up at him, boneless, and aching, my body completely wrung out in the best way possible.
“One more,” he orders. “I want one more out of this greedy pussy.”
Shaking my head, I swallow hard. “I don’t think I can,” I pant.
His blue eyes narrow as he lifts my leg, winding it around his waist.
“You can and you will. Hold onto the headboard, Jo,” he says, pushing himself even deeper. “This last one is going break us both.” His eyes lower to where his cock fills me, and he inches back to appreciate the view. “Never seen a prettier sight,” he rasps. “Your cunt all swollen and leaking all over my cock.” He lifts his gaze back to me. “Gonna lose it, baby. Best you listen and grab onto that headboard. Now.”
Denying us both would be futile. My body doesn’t want to quit. If he’s giving, I’m taking. My hips start to rock, working hard to match his rhythm. I slide my hands up my body, my fingertips gliding over my nipples that are so sensitive tears sting my eyes at the featherlike touch.
Johnny’s blue eyes go wild, turning the darkest shade of blue I’ve ever seen.
“Right. Fucking. Now. Jo.”
I lift my hands over my head and wrap my fingers around the headboard as his hands move to my ass. Squeezing my cheeks, he lifts my ass off the bed and pounds into me so hard my fucking head hits the headboard. The springs on the mattress squeak, and off in the distance, I hear Chestnut whimper. But I can’t speak. I can’t do anything but stare into Johnny’s eyes as he fucks me. Then a weird sensation rips through me, something I never felt before. I start to pant uncontrollably as a white-hot pleasure rolls through me.
“Fuck me,” I cry, my fists tightening around the metal bars of the headboard. I try to stop what’s happening, but I can’t. Pressure builds in the pit of my belly, and I surrender to it.
“Holy fuck,” Johnny pants.
Then he pulls his cock out, and through my lustful haze, I watch as he shoots his come all over my pussy, wringing out every drop. My legs drop from his waist, and they stay spread open as I loosen my grip on the headboard. Johnny leans back on his haunches, staring at me as he catches his breath. After a beat, his gaze lowers to the mess we made, and he pulls in a ragged breath.
“Fuck, Jo. That was the hot.”
I close my eyes because while I completely agree, I’m a little embarrassed.
“I squirted,” I blurt, still trying to catch my breath.
“Yeah, you fucking did, and I loved every bit of it.”
I force my eyes open, catching the smug smirk playing on his lips. “That’s never happened before.”
I’ve also never had so many orgasms in a single night, but I keep that piece of information to myself. His head is already too big.
Literally.
He releases his cock and leans forward, dragging his fingers through the mess we’ve made. My clit pulses as he paints it with the remnants of us, and I close my eyes once more.
“Johnny,” I whisper.
“I can’t help myself,” he admits quietly. He drags another finger through my slit, then his head pops up, and his gaze snaps back to mine. I can’t read the expression flitting across his face, but a sense of dread washes over me. Reality is pushing in.
“What?” I croak.
He wipes his fingers on the inside of my thigh and pushes onto his knees. Bracing his hands on either side of my head, he drapes his body over mine. His cock, somehow still half-mast presses into my belly as his baby blues zero in on my lips.
“Just realizing I finally fucked my dream girl, but I never got a real taste of her mouth.”
My chest tightens at his words, but before I can fully process why, his head descends and his lips brush softly over mine as if he’s just testing out the feel of kissing me. I expect him to push off me and disappear. But he just keeps moving his mouth over mine, sampling my lips. He pulls my bottom lip between his, tugging softly before his tongue sneaks out and seeks entry into my mouth. My lips part, and my tongue welcomes his. Unlike the sex that felt raw, and animalistic—necessary to a fault—the kiss feels intimate, and that realization causes fear to erupt deep inside of me.
It was easy to get lost in the primal need to escape everything, but that part is over now, and all that’s left is regret because I know this doesn’t end well for me. I combatted him all day trying to avoid getting attached to having him close, knowing I can’t truly allow myself that luxury. Everyone leaves me eventually, and it’s only a matter of time before he does too.
I’m about to break the kiss, but he beats me to the punch, gathering me in his arms as he maneuvers us off the bed.
“What are… you doing?” I stammer.
He repositions me in his arms once his feet are firmly planted on the floor and starts for the bathroom.
“Best part of getting you dirty is being the guy who gets to clean you up.”
If I thought kissing Johnny was too intimate, sharing a shower definitely raised the bar. Not only did he take great care in washing my body, but he made sure to take my braid out so he can wash my hair. I felt tears fill my eyes as he gently kneaded my scalp, and I wasn’t sure if I was on the verge of crying simply because I was so fearful of what happened next, or if my emotions were just completely fried.
I’m guessing it was a combination of both.
By the time we were done, I felt completely drained. I couldn’t even walk. It was like I was physically paralyzed. Johnny lifted me into his arms once again, and dried me off, dressing me in one of his t-shirts before he deposited my limp body on the armchair in his room so he could remove the soiled sheets from the bed.
If I had any braincells left, I would’ve made a quip about this motorcycle compound really being a five-star hotel. I mean I was baffled before but the spare set of sheets in the closet—that really cinched it for me.
Once he finally got the fitted sheet on the mattress, he came back to me, lifting me into his arms and gently laying me on the bed before crawling in behind me. He tucked my feet between his legs just like he did earlier, then drew the comforter over us.
“It was better than all the dreams,” he whispered, tucking me against his body as he nuzzled my neck. “Sleep well, baby.”
It wasn’t the first time he referenced having me in his dreams, and I was certain one day I’d regret not asking him to tell me more about those dreams, but in that moment, I remained silent. I let him hold me as I stared at the digital clock on his nightstand. Part of me was desperate for sleep, but another part of me feared what would come if I woke up his arms.
Johnny ran once.
Maybe it was my turn.
I wasn’t foolish to believe he would cut me lose. That wouldn’t come until after Andrew’s funeral. But in the spirit of self-preservation, I could avoid the awkward morning after. I could spare myself from waking up in his arms and believing the illusion that he could be someone I can lean on.
Not in tragedy and certainly not in the aftermath one.
He was a distraction, and the sooner I tricked myself into believing that the better off I’d be.
The problem was I didn’t know if he was a light sleeper or not. How was I going to dislodge myself from his arms without waking him? I waited until the clock turned four, and he was snoring before I carefully moved his arm from my stomach and slid out of the bed. I forgot about Chestnut, though, and as soon as my feet hit the floor he perked up, rushing to my side.
I bent down to pet him, quietly begging him not to bark.
“I’m sorry, boy,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Thinking about it now, I’m not even sure what I was apologizing for. I knew I would see him again, that Johnny would drag me back here, but it still felt like I was abandoning him.
Once I was sure he wouldn’t bark, I straightened out and glanced back at the bed. Johnny was still sound asleep. I made quick work of getting dressed, keeping on Johnny’s t-shirt and just throwing on a pair of leggings. I grabbed my things from the bathroom and figured I’d make myself more presentable once I got to the salon.
With my bags packed, I had one more task and that was locating my car keys. A quick glance around the room had me coming up empty, then I spotted his jeans on the floor. I picked them up, patted his pockets, and quickly recovered them. I glanced back at the clock, and hastily reached for his phone on the nightstand. I didn’t know what his passcode was, but the lock screen showed a little icon that meant he had an alarm set. I powered it down, pressing the button on the side, then gently placed it back on the nightstand. Without his alarm waking him up, that gave me more time to get to my salon without having him catch on.
I was delaying the inevitable, but I needed space away from him. I needed to sort out my feelings, and effectively find a way to shut down what I was starting to feel for Johnny. I had done it once, I could do it again.
So we had sex.
So what if it felt life changing.
It didn’t mean anything.
When the fog of Andrew’s death lifted, I’d still be discarded.
With one more fleeting glance at Johnny, I turned for the door and crept out of his room. Every part of my body ached, but I pushed forward, making my way down the darkened hallway. The music from earlier had died down, but I could still hear people mulling around in the common room. I froze in my tracks, questioning what my next move should be. I couldn’t go out there. First off, I looked horrible. I was walking bowlegged, and a quick glance in the bathroom mirror revealed a ring of hickeys around my neck. I had just met these people and I was supposed to be mourning, not parading around like a five-dollar hooker.
I stalled, standing there debating if I should turn and go back to Johnny’s room when Torque appeared at the mouth of the hallway.
“Leaving already?” he questioned as he braced a hand against the wall to steady himself.
“Uh… yeah. I have to get to work,” I hitched the bag over my shoulder and shook out my hair, hoping it covered the marks Johnny left behind. He pushed off the wall and raised his other hand, bringing a beer bottle to his lips. Staring at me, he took a long pull.
“Hawk know you dipping out?” he asked, dragging the bottle away from his mouth.
I contemplated lying to him, but something told me even his drunken state, he’d see right through me. However, he didn’t give me much of a chance to finish making that decision.
“He’s gonna be pissed,” he warned, stepping out of the way to give me room to pass.
I swallowed around the boulder lodged in my throat. I had no doubt that was true, but I was willing to deal with those consequences. I could handle mad. I could feed off it.
Lifting my chin, I met Torque’s glassy eyes, and nodded. “I know.”
“Gonna be pissed at me too when he finds out I didn’t stop you from leaving.”
“Do you normally stop the girls that leave his room?”
He shook his head. “Any girl Hawk has brought back here hasn’t had the chance to sneak away. As soon as he’s done with them, he gets rid of them himself.”
“Right,” I rasped. Hearing someone else confirm what I already knew, didn’t make the truth easier to swallow. If anything, the knife cut deeper. “Well, I guess I’m the lucky one who gets to keep her pride intact.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “Word around here is that your special to him. Leftie says you two go way back.”
I nodded. “Yeah, we know each other a while, but I’m just a charity case to Johnny. You won’t see me after my brother’s funeral.”
He seemed to consider that for a moment, then he shook his head. “Nah, I think he might keep you. That’s only if you let him catch you.”
I didn’t have a response for that or maybe my response was me leaving him standing in the hallway. Either way, Torque’s words stuck with me. They rang repeatedly inside my head as I fled the clubhouse, and they only got louder once I was in my car. Even now, as I sit on the side of the road, hysterical crying, clutching the steering wheel, I can hear them play, and my treacherous heart wishes they were true.
It would be nice, you know?
To have someone choose you.
To be the one they keep.
The one they claim.
To not do life by yourself.