Chapter 8 - Joanna
I don't want to go anywhere.
Daisy's safe upstairs with Mrs. Morrison. Warm and asleep and perfectly fine. And I'm here, sitting in my shitty car with its broken heater and rattling engine, next to a man who just told me he spent ten years in prison for protecting his sister.
Most men run when things get hard. My ex ran the second Daisy started teething and crying at night. My father ran emotionally long before he died. But Danny? Danny went to prison. Actually went to prison rather than let his sister's abuser walk away.
That's not a monster. That's something else entirely.
I look at him in the dim light filtering through the windshield. His profile is all sharp angles and hard lines, that jawline that looks like it was carved from granite. God, I want to trace it. Want to run my fingers along that sharp edge and feel the stubble beneath my palm.
I could. I could just reach over and touch him. He's so close in this tiny car that wasn't made to hold a man his size. Our shoulders are almost touching. If I moved my hand six inches to the left, I'd be touching his thigh.
"Can I ask you something?" I hear myself say.
"Yeah."
"Do you have any dreams? Like, things you want for yourself? Beyond fighting?"
He turns to look at me, eyebrows raised. Genuinely surprised by the question. Like no one's asked him that in forever. Maybe no one ever has.
"Dreams?" He lets out a short laugh. "Dreams are for people who believe in themselves, Joanna. I'm content with the life I have right now." He pauses, then deflects. "What about you? You got dreams?"
I should have expected that. I should have known he'd turn it back on me rather than dig into whatever hopes he's buried under all that violence and self-loathing.
"I want to open a bakery someday," I admit. The words feel vulnerable. Exposed. "I've always loved baking. Cakes, cookies, all of it. I still do it, but only for Daisy now. Make her these elaborate birthday cakes from scratch because it's the one thing I can give her that feels special."
"I bet you're a fantastic cook."
"You don't know that."
He shrugs. "Just a feeling."
Something about the way he says it, so certain, makes me smile. "Do you have a lot of those feelings?"
His lips curve into a smirk. "I thought I didn't."
My heart's suddenly hammering. "What about now?"
"Now?" He leans closer. Just slightly. Just enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. "Now I'm starting to wonder if I was wrong all along."
"About what?" My breath's coming faster. Shorter.
"About feelings. About pushing people away when I could have been doing this sooner."
"Doing what—"
He kisses me.
Just leans across the center console and presses his lips to mine, and oh my God, it's everything. Fireworks explode behind my eyelids. Goosebumps race across every inch of my skin. His lips are surprisingly soft, gentle despite everything else about him being hard and rough.
It's over too fast.
We pull apart and just stare at each other. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide.
"Sorry," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"
But I don't want apologies. Don't want him second-guessing this. My eyes drop… I can't help it, and there it is. That massive bulge straining against his jeans, thick and obvious and completely impossible to ignore.
He notices me looking. Notices where my gaze has landed.
"Fuck," he breathes. "I can't control myself around you."
Any other man saying that would make me feel objectified.
Used. But hearing it from Danny, hearing the honesty in his voice, the frustration and desire mixed together, only makes me wetter.
Makes my pussy throb and clench around nothing.
Makes the dampness in my panties spread until I'm genuinely soaked.
"You don't have to control yourself around me," I whisper. "You can take what you want. I'll happily give it to you."
He swallows hard. I watch his throat work. "You shouldn't say things like that to a man as impulsive as me."
"I meant it. If you want something, I probably want it just as much as you do."
"I'm not sure about that."
"Then let me show you."
I don't think. Don't hesitate. Just reach over and put my hand on his bulge, feeling him through the denim. He's hard as steel, throbbing under my palm.
Danny's head falls back against the headrest. A low grunt escapes his throat.
I massage him through his jeans, feeling his thick length, the way he pulses with each touch. He's afraid of touching me. Afraid of hurting me. So, I'll show him I'm not as weak or shy as he thinks.
My fingers find his belt buckle. Undo it. Pop the button on his jeans. Drag the zipper down slowly. He lifts his hips and I pull his jeans down until they're pooled around his ankles.
His cock strains against his briefs. I can see the outline of it—thick, long, the head clearly defined. I lean down and press my lips to it through the fabric. Kiss along his length. Feel him throb against my mouth.
"Jesus Christ," he groans. "This is torture."
I look up at him through my lashes. "I won't make you wait any longer."
I hook my fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pull them down.
His cock springs free, hard and beautiful and pointing toward the ceiling. I've never seen one this big in real life. Never felt this kind of want seeing one. My hand wraps around the base or tries to. My fingers don't even come close to meeting. He's too thick.
"Fuck," I breathe.
I start stroking him slowly. Just watching. The way his cock head glistens. The veins running along the shaft. The way it pulses in my grip.
I can't wait anymore.
I wrap my lips around just the tip. Suck gently. Taste the salt of him.
Danny's chest heaves. His hand comes to rest on my hair. Not controlling, not pushing. Just steadying. Helping as I start bobbing my head, taking him deeper with each movement.
I go as deep as I can. Gag when he hits the back of my throat. Saliva drips from the corners of my mouth, down his shaft, onto my car's floor. I don't care. Don't stop. I need him to see how much I want this. How much I want him to stop being afraid and just take what we both need.
"You're so fucking good at this," he rasps.
I keep going. Could do this for hours. But I'm drenched. My pussy's throbbing, empty, desperate. I need him inside me.
I pull off with a wet pop.
"I'm going to fuck you right here," he tells me. "I don't care who notices. I don't care who hears."
Oh God. Yes.
His hands are on my hoodie, pulling it over my head. My shirt follows. Both get tossed into the backseat. He unclasps my bra, surprisingly deft for such big hands, and tosses that too.
Then his mouth is on my breasts. Sucking my nipples until they're stiff and sensitive. I tilt my head back, biting my lower lip to keep from moaning too loud.
His hands move lower. Unbutton my jeans. Pull them down along with my panties until I'm completely naked, juices literally dripping onto the seat.
"Fuck, you're soaked," he growls.
"It's embarrassing," I whisper.
"No." His voice is firm. Final. "Don't ever be embarrassed about a natural reaction. This is fucking hot."
"Thank you."
He puts one hand on my ass, helps me straddle him. The position is awkward in the small space but we make it work. He guides his cock to my entrance and I sink down.
I'm so wet he slides in easily. We both laugh, breathless, amazed, at how perfectly we fit.
I start moving. Slow at first, adjusting to his size. Getting used to feeling so full. Then faster. Bouncing on his cock as my hair flies around my face. His hands grip my ass, helping me move. I grab one of my own breasts, squeezing.
"Fuck," Danny groans. "You feel incredible."
I ride him harder. Faster. The car rocks with our movements. Anyone walking by would know exactly what's happening. I don't care. All I care about is this—him inside me, filling me, making me feel things I haven't felt in years.
Making me feel alive.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," Danny groans beneath me.
"I love it," I gasp. "God, I love your cock. I want more."
The sound of my thighs slapping against his is obscene. Loud enough that anyone nearby would hear. I glance up at my apartment building, only one window has lights on, not mine. I wonder if they can hear us. Wonder if they know what's happening in this car.
I don't care.
Danny's hand comes up, cups my chin, makes me look at him. We're both sweating, hair messy, completely undone. But there's so much passion in his eyes.
He pulls me down and kisses me.
It's incredible. Devastating. Like being kissed for the first time as a teenager, like the world's ending and this is our last moment and we need to make it count. His tongue slides against mine and I moan into his mouth, never stopping my movements, riding him through the kiss.
When we break apart, both gasping for air, he says, "Get on all fours. If you can."
I have no idea if that's even possible in this tiny car, but for him I'll try. I'll try anything.
I maneuver myself awkwardly until I'm bent over the passenger seat. Ass up, face down, my cheek pressed against the cold leather. It's not comfortable but I don't care. Not when I feel Danny shifting behind me, positioning himself.
His cock presses against my entrance again and he thrusts forward. Deep. So fucking deep from this angle.
"Oh God," I sob.
My face rubs against the seat with each thrust. He's slamming into me now: harder, faster, deeper than before. I'm trying to brace myself, trying to find something to hold onto, but there's nothing. My hands scrabble uselessly against the seat.
Then Danny grabs both my arms. Pulls them behind my back. Holds my wrists in one massive hand.
I'm helpless now. Completely at his mercy. Like a doll, and he's controlling every string. I belong to him in this moment and I fucking love it.
He's pounding into me. The whole car's shaking. Anyone walking by would see it rocking, would know exactly what's happening. The thought makes me even wetter.
"Danny," I gasp. "Danny, I'm—I can't—"
"What, baby?"
I turn my face as much as I can, looking back at him through the mess of my hair. "I'm going to cum. Oh God, I'm going to cum."
"Then cum for me." His voice is rough. Commanding. "Cum on my cock."
That's all it takes.
My orgasm rips through me like a fucking rocket, so intense I press my face hard against the window until I'm sure there's a mark on the glass. Every muscle clenches. My pussy spasms around his cock, gripping him, milking him.
And he doesn't stop. He fucks me through it, prolonging the waves of pleasure until I'm sobbing, gasping, completely wrecked.
"Fuck, Joanna," he grunts. "I'm close. I'm going to finish inside you because there's no way in hell I'm stopping now."
"Don't stop," I beg. "Please don't stop. Cum inside me. I want it. I want all of it."
He doesn't last three more thrusts after that. I feel the exact moment his cock throbs and pulses, feel him shoot two massive loads deep inside me, coating my walls with his cum.
"Fuuuuck," he groans, long and low.
But he doesn't pull out. Not right away. He gives me a few more slow, deep thrusts, making sure I take every drop of his seed. Then finally, he pulls out.
"Don't move," he says.
"What?"
"I want to watch my cum drip out of your beautiful ass."
Heat floods my face, but I stay exactly where I am. Ass up, face down, completely exposed. I feel his cum start to leak out, trickling down my thigh.
"Enjoy the view," I manage to say, and I'm surprised by how confident I sound. How good I feel. Like my body is something to be admired instead of hidden.
He's silent for a moment. Then: "Fucking beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful."
No one's ever made me feel like this. No one's ever looked at my body, my chubby, imperfect, stretch-marked body, with this kind of hunger. This kind of reverence.
It's invigorating.
Finally, I straighten up, wincing slightly.
Everything aches in the best possible way.
We both start getting dressed quickly, fumbling in the small space.
When I pull my panties up, I can feel his cum still dripping out of me with each movement.
When I sit back in the driver's seat, there's an audible wet plop sound.
We both freeze. Then burst into laughter.
"Oh my God," I say, mortified and amused at the same time.
"That's hot as fuck," Danny says, still grinning.
I grab some napkins from my glove compartment. I always keep them for Daisy's inevitable spills, and start cleaning up. Danny helps, wiping down the seat, being surprisingly gentle and thorough.
When we're done, he turns to me. His expression is serious now. Intense.
"I don't regret this," he says. "At all. And I don't expect you to think this is a one-time thing."
My heart skips. "You don't?"
"No. I want more of this. More of you." He reaches over, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "If you'll let me."
I should think about this. Should consider all the reasons this is complicated like his past, my daughter, the fact that we barely know each other. I should be practical and cautious and smart.
But I'm so tired of being practical.
"I want that too," I whisper. "I want more."
His smile is small but genuine. Real. "Good."
We sit there for another moment, just looking at each other. Then reality crashes back in. I glance at the clock on my dashboard.
"Shit. It's almost three."
"You need to get upstairs."
"Yeah." But I don't move. Don't want to leave this bubble we've created.
"Go," he says gently. "Get some sleep. I'll text Rampage to come get me."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Go take care of your girl."
The mention of Daisy brings everything back into focus. I have responsibilities. A daughter who needs me. A life that exists beyond this car and this man and this incredible, reckless thing we just did.
But God, I don't want to leave him.
"Thank you," I say. "For tonight. For everything."
"Thank you for not running when I told you about prison."
"Thank you for trusting me with it."
He leans over and kisses me one more time.
"Go," he murmurs against my lips. "Before I convince you to stay out here all night."
I laugh, pull away reluctantly, and grab my backpack from the backseat. Open the car door. The cold night air hits me and I shiver.
Danny's leaves the car too, already pulling out his phone to text Rampage.
"Goodnight, Danny," I say.
"Goodnight, Joanna."
I close the door and head toward my building. When I reach the entrance, I look back. He's watching me, making sure I get inside safely.
Always protecting.
I wave. He raises his hand in response.
Then I'm inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor, to unit 3C, to my sleeping daughter and my regular life. But I can still feel Danny inside me. Can still feel his cum leaking into my panties with each step. Can still feel the ghost of his hands on my body.
And I'm smiling the whole way up.