Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JOSEPHINE “JO” BOOKER
I expected to feel relief when Johnny ended the call and revealed the authorities had finally released my brother’s body. I could finally move forward with the funeral arrangements Johnny, and I made. There would be no more waiting in limbo. We’d call Mabel and set everything up for tomorrow, then afterward we could get to work on clearing his apartment. That would probably take days, but once those keys were handed back to Andrew’s landlady, I’d focus my attention on Aunt Barbara. I would have to tell her Andrew passed—there was no way around it. She wasn’t in the best condition. Her motor skills had been compromised due to the stroke, but she’d notice if Andrew never visited. Plus, I’d have to move her to a facility closer to me.
With all those tasks out of the way, I’d be able to work on the mess that was my life. I had a lot of rough decisions to make. The landlord was selling the building, and there was a very strong possibility the new owners would ask me to leave. I didn’t know what would come of my business—if it would even survive. And on top of all that, there was Johnny.
From the moment I answered his call and heard the anger in his voice, I knew things were about to become even more messy than they already were. I braced myself for the fight. I had my cry on the side of the road, and that was the only moment of weakness I was allowed.
At least that’s what I told myself.
Then he showed up at the salon and said all the things my broken heart wished to hear. I wanted to reject it all. Every solemn vow to stick around. To be part of my life. But I didn’t get a chance to process any of it, because Detective Reynolds called and instead feeling that relief I craved, I felt empty.
Hollow.
Until that moment I treated my brother’s funeral as a chore, but what it truly would be is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I think when you lose a loved one, you go through the motions. You do all the things. You make the arrangements. You get the black clothes out of the closet. You sit there in front of a coffin and receive the people who show to pay their respects. But it doesn’t truly hit you until your standing in the cemetery, listening as a priest prays over your loved ones for the last time, knowing when he’s finished, you only have moments left with that person.
Panic settles in, and you realize you will now live the rest of your life without them. And that, to me, felt crippling.
Give me all the problems in the world.
Let my world collapse over and over.
I’ll find a way to stand back up.
But don’t ask me to say goodbye. I’m no good at it.
“You okay?” Johnny asks, pulling me away from the thoughts that have been plaguing me since we left the salon.
I didn’t have it in me to finish Grace’s hair, and left Katie to not only do that, but also close the salon. We grabbed my bags, loaded my car, and I followed his motorcycle back to the clubhouse. There were no sign of the New York bikers, the only one mulling around was Leftie and Chestnut. Johnny told him that the funeral would be tomorrow, he excused himself to make a few calls. Instead of going to his room like I figured we would, Johnny ushered me toward the bar, and we’ve been taking shots of Hennessy for the last hour, both of us too wrapped up in our own thoughts to speak until now.
I swirl the liquor around in the shot glass, trying to work up the desire to down it as I will myself to tell him a lie, but I can’t do it.
I can’t drink.
And I can’t lie.
I lift my head, and my gaze slides toward him. “No, I don’t think I am.”
“Yeah, me neither.” He lifts his shot glass and tilts his head back, quickly swallowing the hard liquor as I stare at his profile. A pang of guilt hits me just then. I’ve been so busy pushing him away that I’ve neglected to realize he’s grieving too.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, tearing my eyes away from him. I can handle apologizing, but I don’t think I can handle looking him in the eye as I do it.
“What for?”
“You lost Andrew too, and I think you’ve been so busy chasing me, you haven’t had time to sit with that.”
He reaches out and places his hand over mine. I stare at our joined hands for a beat, then lift my eyes to meet his gaze.
“I lost Andrew a long time ago, Jo. I’m just saying goodbye now.”
I guess we could both look at it that way.
When I don’t say anything, he pulls his hand away from mine and pushes back his glass. “You hungry? I can order food before I go.”
My eyes widen at that. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m meeting my brothers at Andrew’s apartment. I want it clean before you in there.”
“But it’s late?” It’s only seven o’clock, but it seems rather later in the day to start such an extensive project. “Can’t that wait?”
Cocking his head to the side, he studies me. There’s a softness under all that hard exterior.
“I was just going to assess the situation. We’re going to need equipment for when we go in there. Best we get a head start on that. The first will be here before you and I know it, and the landlady is gonna want her rent. Unless he gave a security deposit, which I could ask about when I go there. But if you want me to stay, I will.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to do whatever he wants, that I don’t care either way. But that just simply isn’t true.
“What would we do if you stay?”
“Well, for one I’d order you some food. I’m willing to bet every cent in my bank account you didn’t eat anything all day.”
I roll my eyes. “I found a granola bar in my bag this morning.”
He narrows eyes, then shakes his head.
“Yeah, I don’t believe that.”
“I swear,” I say as I turn and reach for the bag I draped over the back of the stool I’m sitting on. I’m about to pull out the box of granola bars to prove him wrong when the bag slips from my fingers, all the contents spilling on to the floor.
At first I think nothing of it, and just mutter a curse. Johnny pushes his stool back and stands. That’s when I shoved all my unpaid bills in the bag. My eyes latch onto one of the envelopes in particular and the big red stamp that reads final notice across the front it. I quickly jump off the stool and reach for it before Johnny can. Lucky for me, he’s too busy picking up the rest of my shit to care much about the envelopes, and I’m able to collect them all.
Suddenly, a buzzing noise fills my ears. I close my eyes completely mortified because I know that sound all too well. It’s the little bullet I keep in my bag, and that trusty little thing has gotten me off more times than I care to admit—especially to Johnny.
“You keep a silver bullet vibrator inside your purse.”
There’s no need to respond, he’s not asking me anything. He’s just stating facts. I shove the bills back into the bag, and turn back to Johnny, purposely avoiding eye contact as I make a grab for the vibrator. He pulls his hand back, and I try again, this time rising onto my knees as I attempt to swat it out of his hand.
“Give me that.”
“Not a chance,” he volleys back, his tone thick with amusement.
Stupidly, I let my eyes wander to his, and he treats me to that same smug smile he flashed me earlier when he discovered I was walking like a duck.
“No wonder you couldn’t walk,” he teases, inspecting the bullet while he keeps it raised high over his head and out of my reach. “This is what you use to get yourself off?”
I cross my arms against my chest like a petulant child and slump back on my haunches.
“So what if it is?” I cock my head to the side, ignoring the heat crawling up my neck. “You going to tell me you don’t get yourself off?”
He presses the button on the top end of the vibrator, effectively shutting it off, and shakes his head.
“At least once a day. Usually in the morning, mostly in the shower.”
He says it so nonchalantly, like we’re discussing how often he brushes his teeth. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying not to picture him standing in the shower in all his naked glory with his hand fisting his thick, cock.
Trying and failing miserably.
Still holding the vibrator, he uses his free hand to deposit the rest of my belongings back inside my bag, then stands. I snap out of my trance and peer up at him.
“Um…hello? Are you going to give that back?”
His eyes dart from the vibrator, to me, and back to the vibrator before he places it on top of the bar. Then he turns back to me and holds out a hand. I take it, and he helps me to my feet. His hand reaches out and he curls a piece of my hair around his finger as his eyes slowly track over my face. Heat blooms inside of me, and I take in a sharp breath. His gaze is too intense.
“You trust me?” he questions, huskily.
That feels like a loaded question, one I’m not quite willing to answer. I think he must sense that, and it propels him to take matters into his own hands. He releases the strand of hair, tucking it behind my ear, then his arms wrap around my waist. He glides his palms over down my lower back and over the swell of my ass, lifting me up. Instinctively, my legs wind around his waist and I grab onto his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
Without a word, he turns and lowers me on top of the bar. My legs fall from his waist, and he pries my fingers away from his shoulders, gently setting them at my sides.
I lick my lips, anticipating building deep.
Climbing and swirling through my body as he reaches for the vibrator.
“Told myself I wasn’t going to touch you,” he says, his voice thick. “That you needed to recover from last night. I could hold you and take care of you in other ways. Ways that didn’t involve my cock.” He pushes my legs together and reaches for the waistband of my leggings.
“What are you doing?” I pant.
“Taking your pants off,” he answers. His fingers slide under the fabric, and he tugs my pants down my legs, pausing when they reach my ankles. I kick off my shoes, and he finishes the job, balling my leggings in his fist before he drops them on the floor.
His gaze trails up my legs as he parts them, and steps between them. Then he lifts his chin, and those blue eyes lock with mine as he holds the vibrator out for me to take.
“Show me,” he demands on a growl. “Show me how this pathetic little thing gets you off.”
All the reservations that had me fleeing his bed this morning are nowhere to be found. It’s like he poked a hole in my armor. I take the vibrator from him, and power it on. Then I remember where we are. It’s quiet, but I know for a fact Leftie is floating around somewhere, and I’m sure there are a couple of other stragglers hiding away too. Any one of them can walk in on us.
“Here?” I croak. “What if someone sees?”
But even as the question leaves my lips, I lower my hand. The thrill of what I’m about to do sends a rush of wetness to my pussy, and I bite back the urge to close my legs.
“Let them. Then everyone will know your mine.”
Johnny’s gaze dips, and he watches intently as I press the vibrator against the lace covering my slit. I let it sit there for a moment, then I drag the pointed edge upward and let it rest against my clit. Johnny’s hands press against the insides of my thighs, pushing them open even wider, then he reaches for panties. Looping his finger under the lace, he pulls it to the side, exposing my glistening pussy.
“Such a fucking pretty pussy,” he praises as his hand wraps around my wrist, and he guides the tip of the toy between my lips, coating it with my arousal.
My hips rock slow and steady, the pleasure building. I’m not going to last long, I never do. I push the toy inside me, clenching around it as I pull it out and press it back against my clit.
“That’s it, Jo. Work that clit. Get it nice and swollen,” Johnny growls as he tugs on my panties even harder. His hand moves from my wrist, and he spreads me wide with his fingers, giving the toy more access to my sensitive nub. My thumb presses hard against the button on the top of the vibrator, increasing the speed, and I feel myself start to lose control. I buck against the toy, my hips moving wildly as I chase my orgasm.
Oblivious to everything, focused only on my own pleasure, I miss when Johnny drops to his knees. I fall over the edge and let the orgasm roll through me. He hitches my legs onto his shoulders, and buries his face between my legs, thrusting his tongue inside me. My eyes spring open and the vibrator slips from my fingers as he laps at my cunt. I fold my body forward, my fingers diving through his hair, and I hold the back of his head as I fuck his face. Another orgasm starts to take root, and before I know it, I’m coming on his tongue.
It takes me a second to recover, and when I finally do, my gaze zeroes in on the man kneeling between my legs. He stares back at me as he licks his lips. I wait for a smug expression to fill his features, but he keeps a straight face, wild desire reflected in his eyes like a live wire, frayed and ready to explode.
“That’s the last time you use that toy, understand?”
There’s something so primal about his words. Something so fucking possessive. No man has ever spoken to me like that. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, as I try to compose myself.
“You need to get off, you do it with me. Use me up, baby. My cock, my face, my fingers—it’s all for the taking. Anything that greedy little pussy needs, I’m the man that’s gonna give it.”
Jesus.
He licks his lips, then pushes to stand between my legs, erasing any inch of space between us. He pulls my lip free, then cups the sides of my face. His eyes search mine for a moment before he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me softly, his tongue tracing the sting my teeth left behind. I part my lips on a moan, expecting his tongue to slide across mine, but he breaks the kiss instead.
“Do you understand?”
All I can do is nod.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, dropping his hands away from my face.
For the first time in a long time, I’m speechless and his nothing to do with the orgasms. It’s the man who provides them. He’s going to ruin me for any other man, and deep down, I know I’m gonna let him.
Somethings can’t be fought, and this feels like it might be one of them.
He grabs my pants from the floor, and rights them so that they’re not inside out, then he pulls them up my legs. With his help, I hop off the bar, and pull them up the rest of the way.
“What about you?”
“That was just as much for me as it was for you,” he says, tossing me a wink. “I’m going to call my brothers and tell them I’m postponing the meet at Andrew’s. Figure out what you want to eat, and I’ll take you for dinner. Then we’ll come back here, and you can ride my cock until you fall asleep. But no sneaking out on me afterward. I’ll stay up all night if I have to. Better yet—I’ll chain your ass to the bed.”
I wouldn’t leave even if the urge did strike. It pains me to admit it, but I don’t know that I can say goodbye to my brother without the support of the man standing in front of me, promising it to me.
“That won’t be necessary,” I whisper.