26. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Joker
I look at Ginny in the passenger seat of my truck, the relief at seeing that she really is alright tangible in the air around me. When the alerts went off today, my heart jumped into my throat, my stomach felt like I was on a roller coaster, and my hands started to shake. In all my years in the Army, my hands never shook.
“How was your day?” Ginny asks, absently looking out the window.
“Well, I’ve had better. My girlfriend kept scaring the shit out of me.”
She turns to me, looking guilty. “I’m sorry, but I thought you’d want to hear what the kids were saying. And then you heard what Keith had to say.”
“I did want to hear that, but every time the alert went off, I panicked. I didn’t like it.”
“Does this mean I don’t have to wear the watch anymore?” She grins at me.
“You’re wearing the watch,” I growl.
She rolls her eyes. “I know.”
“I saw your brother today. And your father.”
“What did they have to say?”
“Well, your brother hates high schoolers, and your father is worried about you.”
“That tracks.”
“But your brother has probably forgotten his hatred of high schoolers with all the information your father unloaded on him today.”
“Wait, they were in the same room? Talking?”
“They were.”
“Why were you at Dad’s?”
“I went to pack a bag for you and Davis insisted on tagging along.”
“You packed a bag for me?”
“I wanted to surprise you. And if you wanted to stay, you would have clothes for tomorrow.”
She smiles at me, a sweet smile that gives my heart an extra beat. Not that I’d ever admit that to anyone. We continue to make small talk on the way to my house, and I fill her in on how the job went last weekend, and that the family was already on their way to somewhere safe. When we pull into the driveway, I rush around to open her door, leaving just enough space for her to slide down my body on her way out.
“Naughty.” She winks.
“You have no idea.” I raise my brows, doing my Groucho Marx impersonation.
“What am I going to do with you?” She laughs.
“I have so many ideas.”
I kiss her soundly before walking her to the door and inside the house.
“What can I do?” she asks, dropping her bag on the floor next to the couch. No, I don’t miss the longing look she gives the thing. Seriously, is it that great of a couch?
“Nothing. We have a little while. Let me get the steaks marinating, and you get reacquainted with the furniture.”
“Aww, are you jealous?”
“No,” I mulishly reply.
She pats my cheek. “Cheer up, big boy, you have something the couch doesn’t have.”
“What’s that?”
“The ability to talk. Wait, that might not be a check in the pro column.”
“I’ll get you for that one.” I laugh, pulling her into me and rubbing my scruff on her neck.
“Okay, okay! You have the ability to walk!” She laughs, both pulling away and holding me to her.
“Not good enough.” I nip at her neck.
“Ahh! Joker!” She can’t stop laughing. “Okay! You have a big dick! The couch doesn’t have one of those, and I really like it!”
I pull back, looking her in the eyes. “Do you only like me for my dick?”
“I like way more than your dick, promise.”
I swat her ass, stepping away. “That response earns you meat, woman.”
I turn to the kitchen with her laughter following me. Playing with her is always fun.
“How long do the steaks need to sit?” she calls out.
“At least an hour, two if you can wait,” I answer.
I set about getting the steaks ready. I hear the TV turn on and the theme show for something we’ve been watching plays.
“You better not start that without me!” I yell.
“Never!” she assures.
When I’m done prepping for dinner, I pull two beers out of the fridge. Ginny doesn’t drink it much, but every once in a while, as long as it’s ice cold, she’ll enjoy one with me. I leave the kitchen, looking at something on my phone, so it takes me a minute to catch up.
Ginny is on the couch. Normal. Naked. Not normal. Glorious, but not normal. My dick immediately tries to stand up and salute her.
“What’s going on?” I ask, setting down the beers and my phone. Yes, I’m aware I sound like an idiot. One should never question the naked woman lounging on the couch. They should just accept it as the gift from heaven that it is.
“Thought we could watch an episode…or two before dinner.”
I pull my shirt off over my head. “And you thought we would do this without clothes?”
“I found a glitch. It seems that we can’t skip to the next episode without watching the last one we’ve already seen.”
I undo my pants and drop them to the floor, so I’m only in my boxer briefs. “So you thought we should rewatch it naked?” She bites her lower lip and nods. “You are a fucking genius, Beautiful.”
Her lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile as she pushes play on the remote, but when I remove the rest of my clothes, my cock standing tall, her mouth opens as she sucks in a breath, and I don’t miss her legs rubbing together to get some friction.
“Do I turn you on?” I ask her, crawling up her body and nestling myself between her legs.
“You do,” she confirms.
I kiss the tops of each breast, moving my lips up her chest to her neck.
“Joker,” she whispers my name.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to touch me.”
“Where?”
She lifts her head, staring into my eyes. “My pussy. Touch it.”
My cock jerks between us. When she’s demanding and assertive, she’s fucking hot. I always find her beautiful and sexy, but when she wants me? And vocalizes that she wants me? Nothing like it in the world.
“Anything you want,” I tell her.
I adjust so I’m laying at her side and run my hand down her body. First her tits, which need more attention paid to them. I take turns with each peaked nipple, pulling them into my mouth and sucking hard enough to make a sound when I pop off of them. She’s already squirming under my touch as I trail my fingers down her abdomen. Stopping to trace her scar, covered by a tattoo.
“Beautiful,” I reverently say.
She lifts her lips to meet mine, and as my tongue delves into her warm, welcoming mouth, my fingers slide through her slit, already dripping with her arousal.
“You are always so wet for me.”
My fingers slide around her clit before I thrust one inside, causing her to moan. A sound that never fails to make my blood surge.
“Are you going to come for me like this?” I ask, adding a second finger.
“If you keep doing that,” she replies, her voice breathy, her pitch going higher.
I add a third finger, getting it lubed up with her arousal, and slide it back to the puckered hole.
“Is this okay?” I ask, applying enough pressure for her to feel me circling her, and her response is to widen her legs, giving me more room to work with, and moving her hand over mind and pushing down, my finger breaking the barrier of the outer ring. “I take that as a yes?”
“Yes,” she moans. “Fuck yes.”
I think my girl is a little kinky, and I love it.
I slowly work my finger in, making small circles, while still massaging her pussy walls with my other two fingers. She starts riding my hand, her own hand still covering mine, and her hips lifting off the couch of their own accord.
“Joker,” she cries, my fingers moving faster, my palm applying pressure on her clit.
“Come for me, Beautiful.”
“Harrisonnnn,” she keens as her heels dig into the cushions and her ass levitates. Her body freezes before the spasms begin, her release flooding over my hand, her ass clenching my finger.
I slow my movements, but don’t stop until her body goes lax beneath mine and she’s back on the couch.
“I love it when you come,” I tell her, kissing her lips fast but firm.
“Your turn,” she slurs in a husky voice.
“How do you want me?”
“On top of me.”
That I can do. I roll over on top of her, hiking her leg up over my hip and planting my foot on the floor for better leverage. I thrust in with no resistance, her pussy still drenched from her release.
“This is going to be fast,” I tell her. “You’ve turned me on too much.”
“Fast now, slow later?”
I grunt in approval when she smiles and tightens her leg around me, pulling me deeper inside of her. She’s topping from the bottom and I have a quick thought of her in leather and lace, telling me what to do.
Fuck me, just that thought is going to make me come undone. I speed up, thrusting my cock into her pussy like this is the last time I’ll get to touch her.
“Play with your clit,” I tell her. “I want you to touch yourself while I’m fucking you.”
She falters for half a second before doing what I ask. Her fingertips rubbing against my cock with each motion adds another layer of sensation to my already sensitive shaft.
“I’m almost there,” she whispers and grips my back, her nails making indents in my skin.
“Thank fuck,” I growl.
I don’t know if it’s the growl or the control slipping or the clit play, but I feel her pussy squeeze me before she’s crying out my name again. My real name. I follow her over, the tingles shooting out from my spine while I bury myself in her body, my head in her neck, and her arms wrapped around me.
“This steak is delicious,” Ginny says between bites.
Her hair is a glorious mess on top of her head, the locks still damp after our post sex-shower. She’s wearing an oversized shirt and nothing underneath. Watching her eat is erotic enough, but watching her sit at my kitchen table with only a thin piece of cotton separating my eyes from feasting on her body is revving my body up for round two.
“Thanks.” I smile at her.
“So, you cook, and you hand out orgasms.” She smirks. “Do you do your own laundry?”
“No, I load it all up once a month and take it home to my momma and she does it for me,” I deadpan.
She laughs. “Asshole.”
“Guilty. And yes, I do my own laundry. I am a man in my thirties. And I was in the Army. But my mom taught me how to do it a long time before I was eighteen.”
“Davis didn’t learn how to do his until he went to the Academy. His mommy washed his delicates until she helped him pack to leave. He also burned water. How he survived all those years still amazes me.”
“He learned how to make a mean cocktail and traded services. He was pretty good with an engine, too. You can find a lot of people to feed you when you can fix their car.”
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely.”
As we’re finishing our meal, I finally ask her something that’s been on my mind for a while.
“Why do you call me Harrison when we’re, um, naked?”
She avoids my eyes, her cheeks turning a bright pink. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“Is it bad?” She shrugs, and I reach across the corner of the table and squeeze her hand. “I won’t be mad.”
“I’m not worried about you being mad. I’m worried you’re going to laugh at me.” She bites her lip, and it’s not in a come-hither way, but in a worried way.
“Hey, I might laugh, but it’s never at you.”
She finally looks at me, and I can see the internal debate all over her face. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I really do want to know. I give her the time she needs to open up, and when she does, it almost brings me to my knees.
“How many people call you Harrison?”
“Now? I’m not even sure anyone other than my mom knows my first name. I guess your dad, but he tries to call me Joker, like everyone else.”
“That’s why. Well, one of the reasons. No offense or anything, but when I’m in the moment, yelling Joker just makes me want to laugh. And I don’t think you’d like that.”
I smile, thinking about it. “Huh. I guess I can see that. It does sound a little silly, doesn’t it?”
“I love that your friends call you Joker. I love that you did something that earned you that nickname, even if I don’t want to hear the stories of what you lived through to get it. But at the end of the day, you aren’t that man with me. You aren’t the stuffy, broody, grumpy, scary-looking, ‘I know how to kill you in thirty-two different ways with my pinky’ guy.”
I do laugh at that one. “It would take at least two fingers to get to thirty-two.”
“You aren’t that guy with me. You’re sweet, and caring, and loving, and everything a woman could ever hope to find in someone to love.”
“It’s because I love you,” I tell her with all the feeling in my body. “I don’t have to be grumpy, or broody, or…stuffy?”
She snickers, nodding. “I love you, too, Harrison.”
“But could you maybe not pull it out in front of my friends?”
“It’s a very handsome name,” she says, getting up and coming to sit on my lap. “It sounds really good when I’m moaning it with no clothes on.”
I run my hand up her thigh, her silky skin igniting the electricity in my body.
“I think we need to test that sound out.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
And that’s what we do for the rest of the night. I make her moan, groan, and scream my name as many times as I can before we both pass out. She does have to get up early tomorrow for yet another day of 'prick keep away'.