Johanna
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
“A LOVE LIKE WAR” — ALL TIME LOW, VIC FUENTES
Present Day
Ican think of a few things.”
I know he can—because suddenly, all I can think about is seeing him with nothing on but the ring.
His hands already find my waist and slide upwards to pull off my shirt before allowing me enough space to remove his. The shirts fall to the floor, forgotten, as his gaze darkens a little and he moves in to kiss me.
This kiss isn’t soft. Instead, it’s urgent. Deep. Necessary.
His hands make fists in my hair as mine move up his chest and to his back, gripping him with my nails as if it’s the only thing keeping me upright.
“Tell me if you need me to slow down,” he murmurs against me, nipping at my bottom lip.
I continue moving my hands down his back until I reach the waistband of his shorts, shoving them down until he can step out of them. When I pull back and look down, there’s already a wet spot where the tip of his cock meets the fabric of his boxers.
“I won’t,” I assure him.
“Then get rid of the rest of your clothes,” he instructs, already taking a small step back to remove his underwear.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, touching himself, as he watches me slide down my leggings and discard my bra. Completely bare, I sink down to my knees in front of him. I replace his hand with mine, stroking down to the base and giving his balls a teasing squeeze.
“Johanna,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head. “I want you now, baby. Put your pretty mouth on Daddy’s cock.”
Hearing him beg for me causes my arousal to drip down the inside of my thighs.
God, the things this man does to me.
“Yes, sir,” I purr, pressing a soft kiss to his tip before opening my mouth and wrapping it fully around his length.
He lifts his hips upwards, causing his dick to hit the back of my throat. I gag, but it spurs him on. One of his hands finds its way to the back of my head as he threads his fingers through my hair, holding me in place.
My eyes water as he starts to move, fucking my mouth like he owns it. I’m lightheaded from the inability to fully catch my breath, but it feels near euphoric to please him like this.
“Good fucking girl,” he praises. “Feels so good when you warm my cock, taking it so well with your perfect little mouth.”
I let out a moan—I can’t help it—as I feel the pulsation in my core start to intensify. He looks down on me, his eyes boring into mine.
“Are you ready for me, Hurricane?” he asks softly.
I nod, my mouth still tight around his thick, throbbing length.
He lets go of his grasp on my hair, allowing me to move back from his dick. He helps me up from my knees and pulls me fully onto the bed with him. Within a few moments, he’s got me underneath him with my hands pinned above my head.
“Brandon,” I plead, more ready for him than I have ever been.
“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
In one swift movement, he thrusts into me. I gasp at the connection and buck beneath him, desperate to get as close as I can. With his free hand, he cups my breast and runs his thumb against my nipple as he drives into me.
Suddenly, mid-thrust, he flips me over and takes me from behind. He grips my ass with one hand before moving the other between my legs and straight to my clit. He tugs on my jewelry—the thing he has come to know that pushes me over the edge every time.
My vision blurs and I see white as my release cascades over me. Brandon follows close behind, pouring into me until I’m leaking with him. It’s pure ecstasy, the way he’s always able to make every nerve I have feel completely alive.
He collapses beside me as we both catch our breath. I roll onto my side to curl into him, his arm wrapping around me. His hand resting on my shoulder, and I can feel the cool metal of his new accessory on my skin.
“You look so fucking sexy in that ring,” I say, a grin spreading across my face.
“Not nearly as sexy as the woman who gave it to me,” he replies, brushing a piece of hair out of my face. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”
I hum softly, listening to our heartbeats as they align so perfectly with each other.
For the first time in a long time—I finally feel like I’m not bracing for something that’s bound to go wrong.
For once, I feel excited for all the things that could go right.
It’s still the middle of spring, but the summer weather is officially here to stay.
Much to my surprise, Brandon wanted to have everyone over for a pool party this afternoon. It’s their one day off from the studio this week, and I think he’s a little desperate to find some normalcy again after the incident from yesterday.
I can’t say I blame him.
The sun is high, beating down on the backyard like it’s determined to melt us all—but for the first time in what feels like forever, the house is full again.
Music pounds through the oversized speakers Tony just dragged outside, and I’m honestly surprised the neighbors haven’t called the cops with a noise complaint yet.
Mia and I are stretched out on the chaise lounges by the far side of the patio with our sunglasses on and glasses of rosé in hand. We’re thoroughly entertained watching the chaos unfold between Eric and Jake in the pool—like we’re watching our own personal reality show.
“I’m telling you, that’s not how physics works,” Eric is insisting, slamming his hand down on the water so hard it splashes straight into his face—and right up his nose.
He sputters immediately.
“It absolutely is,” Jake fires back as Eric coughs, completely unfazed. “You’re just mad that I proved you wrong. What do you know about physics anyway, Mr. I-Barely-Finished-High-School?
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Tony calls, floating by casually on his donut-shaped raft. “I think we can all agree on one thing—you’re both idiots. Let’s move on, shall we?”
All it takes is one knowing look between Eric and Jake, and within seconds, they’ve tipped over the donut. Tony goes under with a splash, resurfacing moments later in a panic as he flails around hopelessly trying to save his beer.
“That was so uncalled for!” he whines as he attempts to clear the water from his ears.
“Debatable at best,” Jake snickers.
I roll my eyes just as Rylee approaches me and Mia, carrying an ice bucket against her hip with a fresh bottle of rosé.
“Now this is the kind of energy I can get behind,” she says, twisting the cap and freshening each of our glasses.
Mia hums in approval as Rylee settles into one of the other lounge chairs, taking a long sip.
Then she turns to me, a smirk already dancing on her lips.
Fuck me. Not even one hour in and she’s already starting shit.
“So,” she says, dragging the word out long enough that my stomach flips. “I heard about the—” She pauses, glancing briefly towards the grill where Brandon is flipping burgers. “—studio situation.”
Mia chokes on her wine.
“You promised you weren’t going to bring it up,” she scolds once she can breathe again. “You cannot just—”
“Oh, I absolutely can,” Rylee cuts in, unaffected. “I was the only one who wasn’t there to witness it—I have questions and Eric won’t tell me anything.”
“Do you think there might be a reason for that?” Mia challenges. “There are things in this world that aren’t your business, you know.”
Rylee considers Mia’s opinion for exactly half a second as my cheeks continue to turn bright red—and it’s not because of the sun.
“I don’t think that’s true,” she says. “Not when it comes to this group.”
Mia opens her mouth to argue again, but stops short.
Unfortunately… Rylee has a little bit of a point.
“Brandon told me most of the sappy stuff when we had lunch yesterday,” she adds casually. “So I’m just here for the dirty details—specifically the ones that made Tony consider moving out.”
Mia snorts.
“Tony threatens to move out every other week,” she says. “Gray told him he could live with us, but supporting his Red Bull habit isn’t in our budget—and we definitely aren’t sound-proofing our bedroom. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere.”
“It was rude as fuck, honestly,” Tony shouts from his donut without even looking at us.
“It was accurate,” Mia shoots back.
“I just like to stay informed.” Rylee shrugs, unbothered by their banter. “Is that really so much to ask?”
“Yes,” I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “You are actually insufferable.”
Thankfully, Grayson comes out of the house before she can come up with another overly invasive question, tongs in one hand and a platter of burger toppings in the other.
“Alright gang,” he calls, his voice cutting across the yard. “Who’s ready for a burger?”
A chorus of responses rises up immediately.
“Me!” Mia says, already sitting up.
“About damn time,” Jake mutters from the pool, reaching for his towel.
“Did you burn them again?” Eric asks. “Don’t want a repeat of Fourth of July a few years ago—I don’t think the fire department will come back here anymore.”
Grayson flips him off without missing a beat as he sets up his buffet of toppings next to the grill.
“Traitor,” he mutters.
Brandon steps up beside him, piling the burger patties on a separate plate like it’s the most normal thing in the world to do—because in truth, it is.
I’m wrapping my towel around my waist when something shifts. The whole scene in front of me feels like it’s suddenly happening in slow motion. Brandon reaches across Grayson to set the plate down, and the sunlight catches the gold on his ring finger perfectly.
There’s no missing it now. You’d have to be blind to not notice it.
For a brief moment, I think we’re safe. Grayson doesn’t react—doesn’t even blink. He hasn’t seen the ring in decades—maybe he doesn’t recognize it.
Maybe—
The rest of the group are lining up with their plates, completely unaware of the shift happening right in front of them.
A second later, Grayson looks down—really looks—and grabs Brandon’s wrist, pulling it into view and abandoning everything he had his attention on before like it no longer exists to him.
“What the actual fuck is this?” he demands.