by E. M. Moore
His words drone on like he’s reciting from a textbook. He’s probably right though. I bet the Crew has done some good things for the Heights, but that doesn’t mean everything they do is good. “There’s good and bad with everything.”
He latches his gaze to mine. The same insecure Johnny who asked if I wanted to leave is back.
I’m quick to reassure him. “I’m staying, Johnny. I just think we both realize the same thing. It’s why you won’t tell your dad about Magnum’s cousin. Sometimes, the Crew isn’t so good.”
Johnny’s gaze hardens. “I know you know this, but those words can’t ever leave your mouth around anyone. Understand?”
It would be easier if I could just rip myself bare for him. Show him my insides instead of telling him. Words can be so inconsequential when they’re not saying what you truly want to say. “I think you have more friends than you know.” I press up onto my tiptoes and kiss him. “You’re a good person, Johnny.”
He laughs. The sound dark and dangerous, almost curdling my blood. “I’m not good, babe. I’m trying to be, for you, but sometimes invisible straps hold me in place.”
“I’ve got a knife,” I tell him, lifting one shoulder.
“The only good decision I’ve ever made is you.”
He cups the back of my head and pulls me forward, sealing his lips to mine. We don’t get far because the door to the room crashes open.
Johnny and I jump, and my towel completely unravels. I try to grab it, but it’s too late. I flash boob everywhere, and fuck me, but standing in the doorway is none other than Big Daddy K.
“Dad,” Johnny exclaims, moving his body in front of mine to shield me.
I quickly knot my towel again, holding my arms securely just under my chest. My face flushes with heat as if it’s been cooked from the inside out. Anger sweeps through me. What kind of fucking asshole doesn’t knock before he comes into a fucking bedroom?
Johnny’s tense voice says, “I thought you weren’t coming in until later.”
Big Daddy K’s piercing gaze goes right through Johnny as if he’s undressing me. The disgusting bastard got a pretty good look too. I throw up a little in my mouth and swallow it back down.
“The Cardinale’s got their private jet to take me. May I see you in the hall, please?”
Johnny goes to leave, but I reach for his hand, holding him back. He turns a surprised look at me, but I just smile and lay a kiss on him. Like he claimed me at the underground fight nights that first evening, I’m claiming him now. Johnny’s mine.
When I pull away, his gaze darkens. He turns without another word and closes the door securely behind him after his dad exits in front of him.
Fuck me.
I sit on the bed, silently seething. I want to punch something in the worst way. Instead, I move to the dresser in the corner and look through the drawers until I find something to put on. I pull on a pair of gray sweats, giving them the same treatment as the joggers yesterday, and then I tug a white shirt on next, taking the extra fabric bunched at my hip, pulling it out, and tying it in a knot. At least it won’t look like I’m walking around in a potato sack.
The last thing I want to do is disturb Johnny and his dad, so I stay where I am. My stomach growls for at least fifteen minutes before Johnny comes back in. I’d been staring out the glass doors, so I get up. Instead of saying anything, he walks right to me, throwing his arms around me and whispering, “You have to be careful, babe. Don’t piss my dad off. Whatever you do, don’t do that.”
I grip him tighter. “I wasn’t the one who doesn’t know how to knock.”
“He’ll do far more than that.”
“Like punch you? Like give you a black eye?”
A growl rips from his throat. “I defied him, and he made me pay for it.”
“That’s not a father, Johnny,” I whisper.
He holds me tighter. His arms are so tight they’re like a boa constrictor around my ribs. Finally, he kisses me just under the ear. “I have to go. We’re taking the asshole to the tower where we can properly interrogate him. I thought you might like to stay here. I’ll be back tonight. Absolutely no one knows where this place is, so you can have it to yourself while we deal with the problem.”
I nod into his neck, breathing him in. I hate to let him go, but a reprieve from being thrown back into the Heights world so soon sounds like heaven.
“The kitchen is fully stocked. Netflix, Hulu, cable, whatever you want to watch. There’s a hot tub out back. Think of it as a spa day, but not the Kardashian kind.”
I grin, chuckling into his embrace. “Sounds perfect.”
He pulls away. “I’ll be back.”
He pecks me on the cheek and strides from the room. I go out onto the back deck off the master bedroom and watch as they all get into cars. A black sack sits over our prisoner’s face again as they load him into an SUV. Johnny, Mag, and several other bodyguards get into one vehicle while K strides toward another. He pauses near the passenger door, and I must catch his eye because he gazes up at me.
I’m tens of yards away, but the anger in his face is unmistakable. I may have just made an enemy out of K for something so damn stupid. Or maybe it’s a few things compiled on top of one another because he’s definitely not smiling anymore. I doubt he’d lift his glass to me at a dinner anymore either.
I raise my hand and wave, giving him a clueless smile.
He inclines his head and then gets into the waiting vehicle.
A few seconds later, they’re pulling away, and I can’t help but think, Game on, motherfucker.
15
Like Johnny said, I pamper myself, using the hot tub for the majority of the day. Since no one is around, it didn’t even matter there were no bathing suits to be found in the house. After breakfast, I sank into the heat of the water and stayed there, watching the birds fly from tree to tree and chirp their cheerful melodies.
I could get used to a place like this. It’s so apart from everything else happening that it makes for a good separation. Even K’s appearance earlier left with him instead of lingering in this peaceful place.
When my skin is thoroughly pruned and wrinkled from the water, I amble out of the hot tub, letting the brisk air coat my body in goosebumps before returning to the bedroom and pulling the clothes I found this morning back on.
Johnny was right when he said the place was stocked. I fix myself a small lunch and then work my way into the enormous living room with windows that edge all the way up to the second story.
Using the laptop I found on the kitchen counter, I Google how to start a fire in a fireplace and get one going in the enormous stone-encased fireplace that takes up one whole wall. Then, I lie down on the sectional sofa, staring at the flames as they burn brighter and brighter. I’m not close enough to the fireplace to feel the heat, but I’m close enough to enjoy the dancing flames and the somehow soothing nature of watching a fire crackle and burn.
Sometime later, car tires crunch on the stone parking area. I peek my head over the top of the couch and watch as a black car parks just short of the porch. For a panic-inducing few moments, I watch the vehicle until a familiar dark head juts out over the top.
I move to a sitting position and gaze at the entry as I wait for him to walk in. He unlocks the door and strides inside, throwing a set of keys on the counter before turning to greet me.
My mouth parts, and I immediately get to my feet at the sight of the crimson streaks and specks that coat him. “What the hell?” I run to him, grasping his hand in mine. “Is that yours?”
Johnny tears his shirt off, breathing heavy as he wipes down his arms and face with his inside out t-shirt. “No.”
I sigh in relief, but it’s only temporary when the gashes on his knuckles jump out to me. I bring his hand to mine. “What’s this from?”
“I had to take care of something,” he says.
I shake my head, biting down on my lower lip. I don’t like the sound of that. As much of an oasis as this pl
ace is, the dangerous part of it is I’m out of the loop. I don’t know what Oscar, Magnum, and Brawler are up to, and my phone, as far as I know, is still in the tower.
Johnny grits his teeth and stares at his bloody knuckles. “Turns out the asshole was a lot more talkative today. Didn’t say anything we wanted to hear but decided to explain in detail what he was told to do to you if he’d gotten his hands on you.”
My stomach plummets.
Johnny must see the look on my face because he captures my face between his two palms. “He won’t be able to hurt you, babe. I took care of it.”
A shiver racks my body.
“I need a shower,” Johnny says. “Stay here.”
I listen to his command for about thirty seconds before I follow him up the stairs into the master bedroom. He’s already stripped and in the shower, water sluicing off his chiseled form. His bloodied shirt lies in the middle of the floor, so I kick it aside. I ogle him like a creeper for a few moments before he sees that I’m watching him. Electricity charges between us. While he stares, I lift my borrowed shirt from my body and unclasp my bra. Now topless, I drag my bottoms down and step out of them before moving for the glass door. Despite the water droplets blocking some of my view, Johnny’s arousal is apparent.
Steam coats me as I walk in. He wipes the water away from his eyes. The damaged knuckles catch my attention, so I move to him, grabbing his fingers lightly and forcing them under the spray. A few of his knuckles might need Band-Aids, but unfortunately, there’s not a lot you can do when you have an injury in that spot. You still need the movement of your fingers which can cause the skin to crack all over again and bring you back to square one.
“I was enraged,” Johnny says, watching as I do my best to clear the blood and inspect the full damage that he’s done.
“I can imagine,” I tell him. “If anyone said awful things about the people I love, I’d be the same.”
Johnny reaches out to cup the swell of my breast. This isn’t the first time we’ve been naked around one another, and my body reacts the same as the other times.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he breathes.
I let his hands go, then grab his forearms to maneuver him under the hot spray, making sure the tiny dots of dried crimson blood that spattered over his neck are gone. I trail my hands over his skin, deepening my touch until I’ve wandered my hands all over him. Up and down his Adonis belt, over his ass and muscular thighs. His torso is perfectly muscled, and though he lacks the build of a middle or heavyweight, he owns his own category of hotness.
“You’re killing me, babe.”
His ragged voice fills the shower, matching the jolting intakes of my own breath as I find a new area of his body to admire. I haven’t touched his dick yet, but I’m already heated and wanting. I’m well aware of the rule Big Daddy K put in place, but that’s not what’s keeping me from taking this further even though I desperately want to. I’m worried about breaking us. I have my secrets, and Johnny hasn’t told me all of his either. I’m not just talking about his mom, I’m talking about the things he’s done. He isn’t saying it outright, but did he kill a man today? Did he beat him until he wasn’t breathing?
Do I care?
“I’m not good enough for you,” Johnny says, tightening as I run my hand up his thigh from behind.
“Who says I’m good enough for you?”
His ass bucks back into me as I skim his cock. I grab his hips, holding him in place because I am two seconds from saying fuck everything. Just fuck it. Johnny is a part of me now, so sue me that I want to act on these base desires. Letting him fill me, enjoying his hard thrusts because I can just imagine the way he fucks. He is called Rocket after all.
Johnny turns, reaches around me and shuts off the waterfall showerhead. He shoves the door open and then picks me up, one arm around my shoulder and the other around my knees as he carries me to the bed.
“I want you so bad I can’t stand it.”
He lowers me to the comforter, and I move up the bed, placing my head on the pillows. I pull him down with me so we’re facing each other on our sides. We’ve been in this position before. It’s at this point where he usually stops.
“There are things...” He licks his lips, eyes eating me up with desire. “I wonder if you knew them if you’d stop looking at me the way you are now.”
It’s as if he’s peering right into me, pulling the words I need to say to him out. “It goes both ways,” I tell him.
He skims his hand up my side, grazing the pad of his thumb over my breast. Chills erupt over me.
“We should stop,” I tell him.
He rolls me over onto my back, pinning my hands above my head. “No,” he growls. “I want to show you how much I care for you.”
I clamp my jaw shut. He lets his hips dip, torturing me with his hard cock against my abdomen. “There are things you don’t know,” I force out. What am I doing? Fuck. A cold sweat breaks out over my forehead.
“I don’t care. Open up for me, babe. I don’t care about my dad. I don’t care what you’ve done because when I see you look at me like that, I know this is right. Even when you find out about me, I’ll fight for you. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Neither will I,” I tell him, challenging him with my stare. “You’ll hate me.”
“Not possible. You’re saving me. You can’t possibly have done the things I’ve done. I never thought I’d find something like this because I’m too far gone. I don’t deserve it. I’m fucked. I’m broken. But you—”
He nudges me, and my resolution slips. I want to believe in everything he’s saying.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
He nods, lust and excitement mix in his eyes, but an acknowledgment as well. He’s not just on some horny high where he has to have me and will regret it later. This is the natural progression of our relationship. This is the next step in committing to one another.
It’s the same for me. I slowly move my knees to the side, opening for him. I don’t look away, I gaze straight through to his core, where I feel his promise to me and give it right back to him.
I breathe out. His soul is intoxicating. “I think I love you, Johnny Marx.”
I bite my lip as soon as I’ve said it, but Johnny pushes inside with a soul-touching sound of love and claiming and promises that at first distract from how fucking amazing he feels seated inside.
He doesn’t return the sentiment, but his gaze says it as he looks down at me reverently. His strong touch, the way he holds me, the way he tries to break all the way into my center tells me he feels the same way.
My toes curl as he batters my body with sure strokes. “Say it again,” Johnny pleads, increasing the pace.
“I think I love you.”
He groans. “You don’t know how much I needed that.”
“It’s true,” I tell him, holding his gaze, hoping he remembers this exact moment when I tell him my secrets. I hope he remembers he said he’d fight for me. I hope he remembers the way he feels right now because if he’s anything like me, he’s lost himself to me.
I’ll fight for him. If he tries to walk away, I’ll kidnap his ass and show him. I’ll tell him a million times how all this is real, and if he wants to hear me say I love you, I’ll do it as many times as it takes. I’ll say it until my throat is raw and strained. I’ll write it until my hands are weak with arthritis. I’ll stare at him with the truth in my eyes for the rest of my life. He’ll never have to doubt it.
Never.
His body starts to shake. I’ve been too busy making so many promises to him in my head that I’ve missed out on fully enjoying the pleasure bombarding me.
I let out a breath, and he dips his gaze to my lips. Leaning forward, he kisses me until my lips swell and rational thought leaves my brain, pleasure taking over.
I try to struggle from his grip, but he holds me in place, switching the angle of his movements until my mouth opens and I release a breathy sigh.
He
kisses a trail down my neck, lips curving over my collarbone in a salacious tease.
I meet his strokes with my own and watch in awe at the pained expressions that flit over his face. “Fuck, Kyla.” He groans long and deep, a guttural sound that makes my core clench at the primal nature of it.
I test his weight on my wrists, but he still won’t let up, so I continue to fuck him back, lifting my hips in the only move I can do to give right back to him.
This undoes him more than anything else. His resolve starts to teeter, and whatever shields he had in place crack. “Fuck me, baby. God.”
His hold loosens, and I pull my wrists out to grab his ass. Then, I hook my leg around his in a grappling move and force my way on top. I move over him, the vulnerability on his face clear. He grabs my hips, clinging to me as I ride him. In between the short pants that stream from my mouth, I say, “I want you as much as you want me.”
He moans, his movements tightening as I sink myself on top of him time and time again. He’s going to come easily. He was hiding from me again. For what reason, I don’t know, but not with this. Not when I’m giving it right back to him.
He reaches out and swirls his finger around my clit until I come hard, crying out on top of him.
“Yes, baby. I’m going to come.” He tries to lift me off, but I lean forward, putting my weight over him. Even if he wanted to stop me, it’s too late. His cock jerks, cum coating my insides. My pussy clenches, milking him until I climax again.
He pulls me forward, grinding against me until we both come down. Breathing hard, I tell him, “I’m on the pill. I wanted to feel you like that. Unrestrained. Uncaring.”
His cock jerks. “Mmm, yes.”
I roll to my side until we’re facing each other. He pulls out, and the evidence of what we did spills out onto my thighs. I have no doubt we’ve made a mess of the bed, but I couldn’t care less.