BOSSY BROTHERS: JOHNNY

by Huss, JA

  Just the hint of disturbed water makes me pivot to the right. Nothing.

  A hand grabs my leg and I go under, screaming.

  Darkness all around me as the hand lets go of my leg. I hold my breath, force myself not to panic. It’s just him. I know it’s just him. But there’s no one down here with me.

  I’m all alone.

  I kick upwards, splash out, and find him grinning at me in the shadows outside of the moon’s glow.

  I splash him. “Asshole.”

  “You’re not scared of the water, right? You can’t be. This sea is your backyard.”

  “No,” I say, too defensively. “But no one likes to be startled.”

  “Did I startle you?” he asks, half-heartedly splashing me back.

  “I just don’t know how well you can swim. The ocean is always dangerous. Especially at night. I wouldn’t want you to drown.”

  “Shit.” He laughs, spinning away from me so that his face is lit up with moonlight. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “Because you’re some kind of stealthy Navy SEAL?”

  “Could be,” he says, spinning back. Wild, wide grin on his face. “It would be a mistake to underestimate me, Megan.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of underestimating you, Johnny.”

  “No?” he asks, swimming towards me. Then he’s there. Just inches away. His hands find my hips, pulling me towards him, and I let out a small, startled squeak as he wraps my legs around his thighs. “Relax,” he says. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

  I squirm, trying to break free. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me.”

  He just grins. Doesn’t let me go. And suddenly I realize I don’t know this man. I don’t know him at all.

  “Can I kiss you?”

  We lock eyes when these words come out. I’m not that sheltered. I’m not some innocent prude. But… “I’m sorry. Did you just ask to kiss me?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he hums, blue eyes glistening with night water. “I told you I was a gentleman.”

  “OK.” I laugh. Awkwardly. Which kind of pisses me off. The awkwardness, that is. Because he’s totally in control right now and I’m not sure how that happened.

  I’m the one in control, right?

  “We don’t have to,” he says, releasing my legs and turning his back to swim off. He creates a short empty space between us before he turns back. “We can skip that part if you want.”

  “Uh…” OK, what is he doing? Skip that part? As in, skip the kissing and everything that comes after? Or skip the kissing and get right to fucking?

  I’m confused. And I don’t like it.

  So I take a deep breath and say, “Hungry for a one-night stand tonight, Mr. Boston?”

  “Didn’t have dessert yet, did we?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Coming on to you. I’m not really being subtle.”

  “But why?”

  He closes that small distance again and his hand comes up to rest on the side of my face. “Because you’re pretty. Because you’re smart. Because this is probably the last night we’ll ever spend together.”

  I make one of those cringing, all-teeth smiles and shrug. “Not sure that was your best line.”

  “No?” He laughs. “OK. Let me try this again.” And then his hands are back. Large, powerful hands gripping my waist just above my hip bones. He tugs me through the water until our stomachs touch. Until my breasts are against his bare chest. Until I can feel the bulge of his hard cock pressing between my legs.

  My eyes go wide.

  “That better?” He grins.

  “For fuck’s sake.”

  “I thought we talked about that?”

  “Oh, Jesus. Don’t start with the swearing.”

  “I asked you a question.”

  “‘Is that better?’” I say, too loud. “Your hard-on, you mean?”

  “It’s one night, Megan. After tomorrow we won’t ever see each other again. And don’t pretend you haven’t been thinking about me. About us, like this.”

  “Fucking?”

  One of his hands darts up my stomach and the next thing I know he’s pinching my nipple.

  “Oww.” I laugh, recoiling.

  “Now you’re just being bad. And using the F word to deflect from my question. Come on, let’s have some real talk. Do you want to have sex with me or not?”

  “One-night thing?”

  “Yup. Just once. I get the feeling we don’t really run in the same circles.”

  “But you’re an opportunistic sexual predator and you can’t let me slip away before you put your cock inside me?”

  And holy shit. His smile is big, and wolfish, and hungry. “Got it in one.”

  “How come you don’t mind when I say ‘cock?’”

  He leans in, soft mouth nibbling my ear, and whispers, “Because a dirty mouth isn’t the same thing as dirty talking. I really like the dirty talk. And if you’re really sincere about asking me why now, why you? Well, then let me take this opportunity to convince you my offer is well thought out and real.”

  My mouth is open. My heart is racing. My nipples are tight and the sweet spot between my legs is throbbing. I suck in a breath and hold it.

  “I want to untie that little string bikini I bought for you this afternoon, throw it out to sea, wrap your legs around my middle, stick my thick, hard cock up inside you, and then fuck you slowly in the light of the moon.”

  I breathe out. “We might drown.”

  He bites my earlobe. His feet making underwater waves as he keeps us afloat.

  “Sometimes the price of victory is high. But I promise you, it won’t end in drowning. All you have to do is say yes.”

  I want to say yes. I wanted him to make this move last night. I thought he would make this move last night. So why am I hesitating?

  Maybe it’s because he’s thrown me some curveballs today. Starting with all that chastising about swearing, then the uncharacteristic self-doubt in the restaurant, then he changed the plan and gave me presents… and tied that ribbon around my wrist like he was claiming me as his.

  Jesus Christ. I’m delusional.

  But all that does actually add up to something and it could be this… gesture.

  Or offer. Or whatever it is he’s doing.

  It doesn’t add up.

  “Or,” he says, his fingers tugging on one of the strings holding my bottoms on until it comes loose, “you could just tell me no when you want me to stop, if that’s the way you play submit.”

  “Submit?” I laugh. But his hand is already tugging on the other string. And the next thing I know I’m not wearing bottoms anymore.

  They’re floating free somewhere down below me. A thing of the sea now.

  He just keeps going. His hands reach up to the rhinestone clasp between my breasts, opening it in one swift, well-practiced move, and they’re free, his palms squeezing them tight until I let out a small moan.

  “Tell me no,” he whispers into my ear. “Because unless you tell me no, I’m gonna keep going like it’s a yes.”

  I bite my lip, but I don’t say no.

  Then his open mouth is on mine. His lips soft, but somehow still demanding and punishing. Both hands come up to my face to hold me there. Captive in his kiss.

  We start to sink, and I struggle away, my hands and feet treading water to keep us afloat. But his hands drop down to my thighs, gripping them tight as he opens me up. Immediately, I press my knees around his middle. His fingers tug on his board shorts, and then his cock is between my open legs. Pressing, pushing, insisting on being inside me.

  “Hold on to me,” he whispers past my lips, our mouths still kissing.

  And I do. Desperately. My arms circle his neck and my legs circle his hips. Giving him permission to enter me fully.

  It’s the slowest fuck I’ve ever experienced. There’s barely any friction. There’s no forceful pushing and thrusting. There’s just not enough resistance in the water for a hard
fuck like that.

  But I don’t need any of that right now. My body is hot, and alive, and begging for more. And even though he’s not giving me more, he has no more to give while we’re in the ocean like this, I don’t really need it. Every small movement excites me. Every brush of his lips against mine thrills me. And when his hand on my hip lowers down the curve of my ass and presses between my legs, I’m almost embarrassed at how wonderful that feels.

  I gasp a little. We’re no longer kissing. But our foreheads are pressed together. Our breathing ragged and matched. His feet kicking underwater to keep us afloat.

  I let go of him and drop my fingers down between our bodies, pressing against the hard muscles of his stomach, until my fingers flip over so I can play with myself.

  Johnny leans in and bites my neck. I gasp, and he pulls back, kissing it softly. But then he bites again, and again, and again until some unknown, never-before-experienced feeling of lust and desire fills my body and…

  “Oh, shit,” I moan softly. “Shit.”

  I come on my fingers. His hard cock barely inside me.

  I bury my head into his neck, embarrassed. Not really understanding how that even happened.

  He leans over on his side. One hand gripping my waist, holding us together, the other dragging us towards the shore.

  I don’t even know what’s happening and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable and weird about what I just did when I realize he’s standing on the sandy ocean floor, lifting me up. Carrying me through the crashing waves to the beach.

  He lays me down, half in, half out of the rolling surf. His body covers mine, his hands on both my cheeks once again, his mouth open, tongue inside me.

  Then he lets go of my face, grabs both knees with both hands, opens me back up, and slips inside.

  And this time his cock—still rock hard—refuses to fuck me slowly.

  He thrusts forward, so deep inside me I gasp with pain.

  “Shhh,” he says. “It’s OK,” he soothes.

  I lift my knees up higher, giving him even more access with the elevated angle, his hand gripping my long, wet hair tight as he pins me to the beach.

  Then, with no warning, he slows, almost stops. My breathing is so disjointed I start to wonder if that’s normal. I start to wonder about all of it. I start to question everything—this man, this plan, this night…

  But then his finger comes up to my mouth. Pushing past my lips. I suck on it the way I might suck his cock, if I ever had the chance.

  He moans, still going slow. His rhythm even, and gentle, but also penetrating and long. So that I can feel every inch of him inside me.

  Waves crash alongside my head. And everything tastes like salt, and warm air, and the wind when he pulls out, pumps his fist around his cock, and comes all over my naked body as he tilts his face up to the moon like a wolf that just took down a kill.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN - JOHNNY

  Some people feel like strangers no matter how long you know them.

  And some feel like long-lost friends the moment you meet.

  I’m not sure which category Megan falls into. Could go either way, I guess. I don’t know her. I’m not even pretending to know her.

  But I do like her. And we actually have a lot in common.

  Pushing the Way aside for a moment—because that connection is obvious and mostly not useful—she comes off cunning. Which is typically not the most positive way to describe smart, but that’s the kind of smart I am too.

  It’s a very deliberate, strategic kind of intelligence. One that focuses clearly on outcomes.

  And even though I accused her of having a filthy mouth before dinner, that was mostly the bad mood I was pretending not to be in. Stress about tomorrow. About who she is and my suspicions of her.

  But I think I was wrong earlier. She is a nice girl. Maybe not sticky sweet like cake frosting. But just sweet enough. Like pie crust. And she was listening to me when I was waxing poetically about plans and whether I had one.

  I like her and I think she likes me. Maybe.

  But here’s the problem. She has no idea who and what I really am.

  I don’t care how many rumors she’s heard about me or my family. I don’t care what kind of life she lived on that Way island of hers. The only person on this planet who really knows who I am is me.

  I don’t have much hope that will change. Not in this life, anyway. Maybe, if I ever get another shot at this shit, things will turn out different.

  But not this time.

  Still, I’m not a fuckin’ animal. So I drop off to the side of her spent body on the beach and then reach for her. Pull her on top of me. Hold her like that and just stare up at the stars.

  The tide is going down. The ocean tries to drag us back into the deep like we belong there. But it’s a losing battle. We are creatures of the land so the sand claims us tonight.

  We lie like that for a long time, I think. Not sure, but it feels long. I just stare up at all those twinkling lights above and wonder, not for the first time, what the point is of all this.

  What is the fuckin’ point?

  To die, I guess.

  That’s the only guarantee we have. The only thing we know for sure is that one day it will all end.

  I shake my head.

  “What that’s for?” Megan asks.

  “Just… I dunno. Denial, maybe.”

  I feel her smile against my chest and for some reason I get the urge to play with her hair. “What are you in denial about?”

  “The point.”

  “What point?”

  “I think that’s the point. What point? There is no point.”

  She lifts herself up off my chest. Her hands come up to prop up her chin. Our eyes meet. “Are you always like this?”

  I nod.

  “I think you’re lying. What’s going on?”

  “You don’t know.”

  “That’s why I asked.”

  “No, I mean… you don’t know me.”

  She makes one of those pouty frowns girls make when they have to accept something as truth, but would prefer not to. “I’m not pretending that I do. I just… I’ve heard things about you.”

  “Like what?” I ask. Because I recall her telling me yesterday that she knew our family name, but not much more.

  “You know. Ruthless. Mean. Insane.”

  “And?”

  “And… I think I’ve seen a few other sides to you today.”

  “Examples?”

  She smiles. Blinks at me. “This self-doubt, for one. Wasn’t expecting it, to be honest.”

  “Did you have expectations?”

  “Doesn’t everyone? Didn’t you have expectations about me when you first took me to your boat?”

  “I suppose.” Then I reach for one of her new tear-drop earrings and finger it for a moment. Grinning at her. Well, more of a lopsided frown. “But I’ve had to reevaluate a few times already and it’s only been a little over twenty-four hours.”

  “Hmm,” she hums. “Well, that’s how I feel about you. A banker? Are you kidding me? I mean, maybe I knew that before all this happened, but if I did, never really thought about it. I get that you have to be ruthless, mean, and insane. But I also think there’s more to you than that. This was a pretty unique, thoughtful one-night stand if you ask me.”

  “Please,” I say, letting go of her earring and turning my head away. “Do not try and tell me you’ve never had ocean sex before. You were born on an island.”

  “Still,” she says, sidestepping the trap I just threw down. “It was kind of a masterpiece as far as booty calls go.”

  “Go big or go home,” I muse.

  “Are we gonna sleep out here?”

  I shake my head. “No. We need to get up really early and I still have to call Logan back and get the final details for tomorrow. In fact,” I say, holding on to her as I sit up. Her knees instinctively bend and press against my hips as she straddles my thighs and settles in my lap. I do not look down. I can’t
afford to be distracted by sex. I got all of her I’m going to get. “I think we should probably go inside now.”

  She stands and I gaze up at her naked body. She is very beautiful, very confident, and very smart. Not a woman to be underestimated. Her hand comes out like an invitation. I accept it and let her pull me to my feet. I adjust my board shorts and then pick her up, holding her close to my chest as her legs wrap around me, just like they did in the ocean.

  “Gonna carry me to bed?” She laughs.

  “Why not?” I say back. “That way if any of our cabaña neighbors are spying they only get to see your ass.”

  “Right,” she huffs. “If the neighbors are spying on us then they caught the whole show.”

  “Sorry about that,” I say.

  She nuzzles her face into my neck and purrs, “Don’t be. I knew what I was doing.”

  Yeah. That’s the part I hate about this.

  She knows exactly what she’s doing.

  Once inside I set her down, playfully smack her ass, and then say, “You wanna sleep together tonight?”

  “I dunno,” she drawls. “If we snuggle, we might get attached. And I told you like ten times, this is a one-time thing, Mr. Boston.”

  I smile. Can’t stop it. “I gotta make a call.”

  “You told Logan you’d talk to him in the morning.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I was sitting at the table when you said it, Johnny. Just… come to bed.” She grabs my hand and starts tugging me towards the master.

  Still naked, I remind myself. Not caring. Like nudity is just something she does around guys she’s only known one day.

  I pull my hand from her grip and say, “It’s a big job. I need to make sure it all goes as planned. I’ll be right in. Ten minutes, tops.”

  “OK,” she sighs, giving in. “See you in ten.” Then she turns and walks away. I stare at her round ass until it disappears into the bedroom, then grab my phone from the other room, pull on a t-shirt, and go out the front door and start walking down the path.

  I don’t call Logan. At least not yet.