Chapter 32 – Johnnie
The moment Johnnie walked into his house, exhausted from the long flight and his emotional turmoil, he knew Kendall was there. Her expensive perfume lingered in the air, but it was more than that, deeper, as if her mere presence touched his soul and brightened his surroundings.
Yet, his anger and jealousy persisted, blocking out his happiness and relief that his wife had returned.
Pausing long enough to set his keys and his briefcase on one of the hallway benches, he stalked up the staircase and headed to their bedroom, opening the door without knocking.
Kendall was lying on the bed, curled up and wrapped in a thick, white towel. Her suit was strewn across the bed, her pumps in two separate places as if she’d thrown them.
Alarm surged into Johnnie and he slammed the door shut, rushing toward her.
She lifted her head, her red hair damp and tangled. “Get out.”
Her sharp tone killed his concern. “Where did you go?”
Her head dropped back onto the pillow. “Go away, Johnnie.”
Kendall wasn’t in a good place. Over the years, he’d made it his mission to study his wife and gauge her moods, so he’d know how to help her and keep her safe.
But he wasn’t in a good place right now.
He was scared he was losing his beloved Kendall.
No matter how he acted, he adored her. Unbuttoning the buttons on his sleeves, he rolled them up and sat on the edge of the bed next to her.
“Did you and Mortician go away to fuck?”
Starting as if the question shocked her, she raised her gaze and narrowed her eyes. “Fuck you. If I fucked him, I wouldn’t be here with you.”
“You’re a miserable fucking bitch,” he snarled, livid she even considered leaving him for a man who didn’t really want her.
“I’ve just joined the same miserable fucking bitch club you belong to.”
It took all his restraint not to call her another name.
“I haven’t seen Mortician in days,” she said, relenting slightly.
“I know you didn’t sneak away with Christopher. Again, where did you go and who did you fuck?”
“Stop judging me by your actions. I haven’t slept with anyone.”
“You haven’t slept with me and you like sex. You also lied to me. I know you didn’t have a fucking business trip. Brooks told me.”
Closing her eyes, she heaved in a breath. “I needed time to myself,” she said finally, flashing her gaze on him briefly before lowering her lashes again. “I haven’t cheated on you.”
“Then where did you go?”
“Away.”
“With whom?”
“Alone.”
Johnnie gritted his teeth, annoyed that Kendall was refusing to give an inch and not believing her. She was up to something. Her dodgy behavior and sudden disappearance told him the truth even if lies fell from her fucking lips.
Enraged, he turned and reached for her, but Kendall scrambled back, which only pissed him off more. Leaning in, he grabbed her wrist, anticipating her struggles to free herself. Before he lost his grip, he yanked her too him, stretched out over her and pinned her down.
The scent of her body wash and shampoo teased him and his cock hardened immediately. Only a towel separated her naked body from his hunger. It had been weeks since he’d made love to her. Not by his choice, but by hers. He missed her so fucking much.
Somewhere between meeting Dartine and his flight home, Johnnie realized just how much Kendall meant to him, considering the possibility of life without her. He felt her slipping away. He felt her withdrawal from him and their marriage and he’d do whatever it took to keep her.
Dipping his head, he brushed his lips over Kendall’s. She didn’t respond, laying underneath him like a block of ice. He pressed his mouth harder against hers. She clamped her lips together.
Johnnie growled, thrusting his aching dick against her mound, because her legs were as tightly closed as her mouth.
“Who have you been giving pussy to, Kendall?”
“No one,” she whispered, her eyes teary and vulnerable.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care! I haven’t broken my marriage vows to you.”
He tried to kiss her again, but she still wouldn’t respond.
“If you’ve fucked Mortician and I find out, I’m killing him.
You’re my wife. Besides, he wouldn’t want you.
He’d stick his cock in you out of revenge to me and sympathy for you.
Not because he’s attracted to you. He has a gorgeous wife that he’s completely devoted to. ”
She started to cry, which told Johnnie everything he needed to know.
He rained small kisses along her jaw, to the shell of her ear. “You’re jealous of Bailey, sweetheart?” he whispered. “Or are you upset that you’re a charity case to your precious Mortician?”
“He’s my friend. He used to be yours.”
Once, before Christopher took Mortician into his confidence. Before Mortician started fucking Kendall.
If he wasn’t so desperate, Johnnie never would’ve played on Bailey’s fears in one way and Kendall’s the opposite, all because Mortician forgot about his and Johnnie’s friendship.
“How many lines have you crossed with him, Kendall? Did you suck his cock? Let him come down your throat? Did you come on his tongue?” He bit her earlobe, hating her again. “Or did you just let him fuck you and come in your cunt?”
The points of her nipples pressed into his chest and her skin flushed. Dipping his head, he bit her neck. “How could you?”
“I didn’t sleep with him,” she said on a quiet sob.
Using his teeth, he yanked open her towel, not trusting Kendall enough to release her hands. He slid down as far as possible and bit the top of her breast, drawing blood. She sucked in a breath.
“I won’t let you leave me. You belong to me,” he snarled, biting her again, her tears soothing something inside of him.
His behavior threw her off-balance. Any resistance she might’ve shown just a minute ago would be forgotten now, so he released her wrists.
He licked her nipple and trailed his hand down her body.
Pushing her legs apart, he thumbed her clit, sliding two fingers inside her wet pussy, knowing she didn’t want him but not caring.
She was vulnerable, on the edge of a breakdown—he had the advantage.
He tongued his way to her center. Instead of licking her, he opened her legs wider and sniffed her folds, her hole, searching for the scent of cum, glad when he only smelled soap and Kendall.
He might’ve killed her if another man’s odor polluted her body.
She was trembling. Her PTSD after Spoon’s assault rose in Johnnie’s head, but he shoved it away. This was different. She was his wife and he was fighting to keep her.
Opening her pussy lips, he covered her clit with his mouth and sucked. She jerked and gripped the covers. He didn’t care if it was pleasure or pain. He was hurting, so he wanted her to hurt.
“Please, Johnnie,” she whispered, so pitiful.
Instead of moving, he changed tactics, unsure if dominating her or forcing her to orgasm would soothe his betrayal. He stroked her clit with his tongue, slowly, almost tenderly, like the gentlest caress. The softness of his tongue and lips laved her delicate flesh.
His fingers were ruthless, though, buried to the hilt, her hot cunt gripping them.
He increased the pressure of his tongue, curled his fingers inside her pussy, and almost came when she cried out and flooded his mouth.
He grunted at the scent and taste of her.
Before she rode out her orgasm, he buried himself inside her.
Immediately, she tensed, ruining her moment.
She opened her mouth, but Johnnie didn’t want to hear her and he didn’t want to fight her.
Pinning her hands above her head, he covered her mouth with his, forcing his tongue inside her mouth, forcing her to taste her own pussy.
The pussy she’d pitched to Christopher and to Mortician and to whoever she’d gone to meet.
His kisses were as punishing and as sloppy as his thrusts into her. It didn’t matter how tall she was, she was open and fragile underneath him, just a woman.
He closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t see her. But it was just as bad. He saw that image of her on the back of Mortician’s bike, returning to the club.
He sank into her, wanting to fuck away her memory of the men she’d fucked to betray him. Wanting her to love him again.
When she realized he wasn’t moving, she started to sob again, his cue to release his hold on her and insert his hand between them. He fingered her swollen clit, bit her neck, thrust into her harder and harder, and finally broke her.
She arched her back and screamed, her juicy cunt contracting and expanding, dripping. Coming.
He stiffened and his balls tightened. Cum exploded from him. He momentarily lost awareness of place, time, and self.
Breathing heavily, he rolled over and lay on his back, slowly realizing that he was still fully dressed. Only his cock was exposed.
Johnnie lifted his head. Kendall was almost exactly as he’d found her, curled up. The only difference was she was naked and her back was to him.
All his satisfaction vanished, replaced by guilt and regret. He’d allowed his jealousy to blind him. He’d—
“I want a divorce,” she croaked around tears.
Johnnie froze.
“I won’t live with a man who takes what I’m not willing to give.”
Those words pissed him off again. “You mean to me? You’ve been fucking Mortician and Christopher and God knows who else.”
“I haven’t!” she sobbed. “I have never betrayed you. Even if I did that didn’t give you the fucking right to do what you just did.”
“You’re my wife!”
“Fuck you.” She sat up and started out of bed. “Not for long.”
Johnnie moved fast, wrapping his arms around her before she stood. “I’m sorry—”
“Until the next time.”
“Kendall—”
She tried to jerk away but he tightened his hold. “Let go of me!”
If she walked out, Johnnie feared she wouldn’t stop.
“I can’t—”
Rising on his knees, Johnnie rested his cheek on the top of her head, regretting the jealousy, anger and bitterness that clouded his vision.