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Bossy Brothers: Johnny

Page 20

by JA Huss


  She doesn’t say anything. In fact, several moments pass in silence so I open my eyes to look at her.

  “OK. Fine,” she says. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think you’re using me right now. I think you need more answers and for some reason you think I’ve got them. Now you’re playing a new game with me so I’ll give you all that information. How am I doing?”

  “Pretty accurate so far.”

  “Great,” she says, turning away from me. But I twirl her back.

  “But I still like you.”

  “Right. I should believe that why? I mean, you just told me you’re using me to get information.”

  “You should believe me because you lied to me. You set me up. And you’re still alive.”

  She opens her mouth to snap back at me, but the realness of my words sink in. She inhales and whispers, “Only because you need me.”

  I frown. Shrug with my hands. “OK. Then I’ll do it without you. You go one way, I’ll go the other, and who knows? Maybe we’ll meet up some day when we don’t need each other and we can give it another go.”

  She just shakes her head at me.

  “There’s nothing I can say, Megan. There is no way I can make you trust me now. And there’s no way you can make me trust you either. Either we make a choice to do that, or we make a choice not to. That’s all there is to it.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Why?

  “Because I like you.”

  “I like you too.”

  “And none of it’s real.”

  I shrug. “Some of it’s real.”

  “Yeah. The lies.”

  “Wow,” I say.

  “Look,” she says. “There’s no way out.”

  “Choose,” I whisper. “That’s the way out. You said something to me last night. You said when I figure out if I want you on my side I should let you know. Well, I’m telling you. I want you on my side. And I need you to make a choice. And I want that choice to be me. And if it is, I will stand by you, Megan.” I hold her cheek in my palm. “I will protect you. And if we fail, we will fail together.”

  “Die together, you mean?”

  “Hey. That’s a much longer commitment than marriage.” I lean in, wanting to kiss her so bad, but I want her to kiss me more. So instead of aiming for her lips, I aim for her earlobe. I nip it and whisper, “How about this? How about we table this big choice and just concentrate on the smaller choice? And when we’re done here I’ll tell you more and then I won’t seem so crazy. And I think maybe you’ll be in a better position to think clearly. Because right now I think you’re a little distracted. And I’m still patiently waiting for that kiss.”

  Her hands forget that we’re in the middle of something big and come up to my cheeks. She leans up on her tiptoes and presses her mouth to mine.

  Her lips part before mine, but that’s it. I’m done. I’m done playing and now we’re on. My tongue slips inside her mouth and in that same moment my hands take hers and push them down my chest until they’re right over the top of my now throbbing cock.

  She grabs it through my pants, then unzips with one hand and yanks them out of the way. One more moment and I’m right where I want to be. In the palm of her hand. She jerks on me, squeezing tight, then easing up. I kiss her harder and grab her hips with both hands, then take a step forward until her back bumps up against the cabin door.

  She moans into my mouth, surprised at my aggression.

  Hey, I never said I’d be a complacent participant. I just said I wanted her to make the first move.

  All the other moves from this point on belong to me.

  I take her hands away from my cock and lift both arms above her head, pinning them to the door with one firm grip on her wrists. Then I break away from the heated kiss and take my lips to her neck where I suck, and nip, and kiss her until she’s fighting the tickle with a giggle and giving into the dominance by leaning her head to the side, allowing for better access.

  I press my chest up to her breasts and my cock against her stomach.

  “Oh, God,” she says. “I thought you wanted me to boss you?”

  “Please.” I laugh, now nipping her earlobe. “I just wanted you to think you’re in charge. I don’t submit to anyone, not even you.”

  “Is that so?” she asks. Like I just issued a challenge.

  And OK. Maybe I would like to submit a little. But not this time.

  This time I want her to know who’s in charge. Not only that, I want her to love it.

  So I let go of her wrists, unbutton her shorts, and start dragging them down her thighs. Just enough so I can press my fingers between her legs and get her wet with one hand and lift up her shirt with the other.

  Her breast is firm and her nipple is hard. I grind my hips into her, trying to create more friction on my neglected cock. I lift her breast up and let my mouth sink over her nipple, sucking on it, then biting it until she squeals out her protest.

  I let go of her tit and slide both hands down the smooth outer muscle of her thighs. Then I grab her behind the knee and lift both legs up.

  She squeals again and her hands immediately wrap around my neck. “My panties,” she breathes. “They’re in the way.”

  I just laugh. Her panties aren’t in the way. They’re stretched tight between her open legs, and only halfway down her thighs, but they’re not in the way.

  I press her back into the door so I can let go of one leg. And in that moment I fist my cock, and then slip it deep inside her now wet and ready pussy.

  She squirms and groans. “Ohh!”

  I pause for a moment. “You OK?”

  “I’m fine,” she says. “I’m fine. Keep going.”

  Unsure if she’s really fine or she’s just giving in again, I hesitate. But then she digs her fingernails into the muscle of my back and my doubt disappears.

  I thrust forward too hard and make her squeal again. But the pain from her fingernails urges me on. I thrust again, and again. And there’s a little play in the pocket door, so each time I do this it bangs in the confinement of the space that holds it.

  Both of my hands sweep around to her ass and I spread her cheeks open, wishing I had a third hand to play with her. But I’m not the kind of man who wastes time on wishes, so I let one cheek go and slip my finger between her legs until I feel the shaft of my cock slipping in and out of her slick pussy.

  “Oh, God,” she moans. “Oh, shit.”

  I slide my finger back a little and press it up against the tight pucker of her asshole. She squirms in my embrace, either from the discomfort as I push past her clenched opening, or the pleasure of being fucked and fingered at the same time.

  Either way, that squirm drives me crazy when she clenches the muscles of her pussy down around my shaft.

  “Fuck,” I moan.

  “Fuck yes?” she pants. “Or fuck no?”

  “Fuck yes,” I say without hesitation. “Fuck yes.” And then I take my finger out just long enough to slap her ass. “Stop saying fuck.” Then ram it back in as I continue to thrust.

  She laughs a little. Or tries to. It’s cut off when I pound her against the door, making it bang, and bang, and bang.

  I move forward like there’s space between us that needs to be crossed when in reality we’re so close together her tits are smashed up against my chest. But I don’t want to thrust anymore. I want to be deep, deep inside her. I want every slight motion to count.

  She leans into my neck and starts kissing me, the fucking over now, the heated animalistic nature dissipating as the lust turns into the slow, rhythmic motion of lovemaking.

  It’s dumb. I know this. I get it.

  It’s still just fucking. But I want her, and I like her, and I need her, and I want her to want me, and like me, and need me back.

  Her lips find my mouth and she kisses me slowly. Open mouth, twisting tongues, and the promise of more to come.

  I withdraw my finger from between her legs and cup her ass with both hands,
then turn to face the bed and take two steps before laying her down on top of it, never allowing my cock to slip out. I scoot us up the bed and then sink down over her and kiss her properly as I drag her shorts and panties down her legs. She kicks them off and I press my full weight down on her and we move to the rising and falling of the boat and the ocean beneath us.

  She lifts her knees up and hooks her legs around my ass, pulling me towards her like a siren calling me to the ragged edge of a rocky cliff.

  She goes still and stiff for a moment and I know she’s close. My hand slips down to her clit and I strum it quick and fast until she’s writhing beneath me, her mouth open in a whimper. In that moment her pussy clamps around my cock again and I know I’m close. So fucking close. But I don’t want to pull out until she’s done so I lean my head down, upper body propped up with two hands alongside her head, and kiss her again.

  She whimpers, and squirms, and then finally, she lets out a long, “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” and I know she’s done.

  I could go on. I could hold back, take a breath, and then fuck her for another twenty minutes. But I’m too eager to let loose. So I ease back, slip my dick out, fist my cock and jerk my hand up and down my shaft, the tip of my thumb sliding up over the head, and then… I come all over her stomach. I watch it spurt out in a long, hitching stream. Covering her belly with milky white semen.

  And then I let out a long sigh.

  That’s when I notice tears running down her cheeks. That’s when I notice she’s crying.

  “Hey,” I say, moving to the side of her and lying down. “Hey. What’s wrong?” I swipe the tears from her cheek and then lean over to kiss her just below her eye. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  She’s shaking her head. “No. No. I’m sorry. It’s just… I just… I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Shit, Megan. Shit.” I grab my hair with one hand and pull her toward me with the other. “I didn’t mean to force you. I didn’t mean to—”

  “No,” she says. “No, that’s not it. You didn’t. I’m just… I’m just being weird. Don’t pay any attention to me, OK? Just…I’m sorry.”

  I stroke her cheek, conflicted and unsure, even though five seconds ago I was so fucking sure of everything. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She covers her face with her hand and sighs. “I’m here. And that’s wrong.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because it’s all a lie, Johnny. And it was fine up until a few minutes ago. I could live with it because… because you’re just some insane jerk who didn’t matter. But now… I dunno.” She pulls her hand away from her face, revealing more tears. And God, that kills me. My heart cracks in two when I see the stream of sadness running down her cheeks. “Now everything is different.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Me,” she says, pushing me away and sitting up. “Me! I was sent there. To that dungeon. They left me there on purpose. They told me you’d come. But it took a really long time.” She sobs. And this must surprise her because she covers her mouth in a gasp. “It took a really long time,” she squeaks out. “I was so hungry. And thirsty. And they were going to let me die there. They were. And then you came and saved me. And I was back on the job. Don’t you see? I set you up!”

  I flop to the side and laugh. “Shit, Megan. Do you really think I didn’t know that?”

  “What?” She props herself up on one elbow to see me better. “You’re such a liar! You did not know!”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “OK. Is it better if I did know and fooled you? Or didn’t know, and you fooled me?”

  “What?”

  I laugh again. “Megan. Come on. I’m Johnny fuckin’ Boston. I’m the most cynical motherfucker on this planet, so when I land on a burning island and stumble onto a forgotten girl chained in a dungeon, the very first thing I think is… ‘OK. Who set this shit up?’”

  “You did not know,” she insists.

  I put up a hand. “OK. You got me. I didn’t know you were sent to the dungeon to hook me. Fine. I’ll pretend that’s true. But I’d have figured it out on the lab island anyway. It was all so very obvious.”

  “It was not obvious!”

  “They didn’t even know you!” I laugh.

  “OK. Maybe then. But before that moment, no. You did not know. You suspected nothing.”

  “Holy shit,” I say, covering my face with my hand. “Are we really arguing about when I knew you were setting me up?” I take my hand away and look at her. “Because that’s kind of stupid.”

  “You didn’t know when you saved me!”

  I sigh. “Fine. You’re right. I didn’t know right then. But I knew the next night. That’s why I called Logan and changed the plan from looking for maps to aerial assault. Remember? You said that yourself when I put you in the helicopter.”

  “I did not!”

  “Megan,” I say. Incredulous.

  “Johnny.” She sneers back.

  “OK. Truce. I didn’t know for sure in the dungeon, I just suspected. But I did know for sure before we even went to dinner last night. Just admit you’re not as sneaky as you think. OK? It’s fine. I’m just really good at my job.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She flops back into the pillows and we lie there, silent for a few minutes. Just listening to the sound of the ocean lapping against the side of the yacht. “Where are we, anyway?”

  “Oh, yeah. That reminds me. We need to talk.”

  “So talk.”

  “You are not really mad at me about this. Right? I mean… are you really mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad. It’s just… I was so sad about setting you up and then you turned it into a big joke.”

  “Aww,” I say, slipping an arm underneath her and pulling her close. “Come here. I have to tell you the whole story. I was going to anyway, even before we got dirty. Because I liked you. That’s why I…”

  “That’s why you let me live?” she asks.

  “That’s why I brought you here. To this place.”

  “What place? Where are we?”

  “I’ll take you up top and show you in a minute. But first I need to tell you the rest of the story. And maybe you know this, but I get the feeling you don’t. Because you let a few things slip back in the restaurant last night and I don’t think you’d have done that if you really knew what you were doing.”

  She’s silent for a moment.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “I’m listening. But now I’m worried too. What don’t I know? Or maybe I do know and when you find out I do know, then you’ll be disappointed in me.”

  “Well… I guess we’re going to find out. So… how much do you know about those rats?”

  “The rats?” She covers her face with both hands. Like she’s trying to hide. And for a moment I’m sure she knows. She knows everything and I should shut up now. Because I don’t know if I could take it if she was a willing participant in their grand scheme.

  But I can’t shut up. I have to find out who she is and where she stands. One way or another.

  So I continue. “Because you said… eternal life. Like a couple times, at least.”

  She peeks at me through her fingers. “What?”

  “The rats? The longevity experiments? Ringing any bells?”

  “Yeah. But what about them?”

  “I think I’ve figured it out.”

  “Which part?”

  “The whole thing. All of it. The money, the wars, the people in the camps—”

  “Wait, what people in camps?”

  “You know, like the refugees and shit. The camps. All that stuff that comes from wars.”

  She sits up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about your long-lived rats and the reason I have to collect money to fund global wars. It’s not for the war, it’s not for oil, it’s not even for power, Megan. It’s for science.”

  She blinks at me. Three
times quickly.

  “They’re using the people in the camps for experimentation.”

  “No,” she says. And it comes out pretty insistent.

  “Yeah. I didn’t have a chance to go through all the data I stole from the island, but I saw enough. They’re running human trials in refugee camps. And those women in that level four biosecurity lab? They were using them to make antibodies.”

  Megan sucks in a huge gulp of air and holds it. She holds it so long I start to get worried and I’m just about to shake her when she lets that breath out like she’s purging something deep within her. “Antibodies,” she breathes. “Antibodies for what?”

  “To extend life, Megan. What did I just tell you before we got distracted? There’s no point, right? We all die. We all lose in the end no matter how hard and great we play. But what if… what if we didn’t have to die?”

  “Everything dies.”

  “Except your rat, right?”

  “That’s crazy. It’s going to die. Some day. Probably soon. It’s eleven years old, for fuck’s sake.”

  I point my finger at her.

  She slaps it away. “Don’t bitch about my swearing when you’re trying to tell me something crazy.”

  I smile and place both hands behind my neck.

  “Why are you smirking?”

  “I’m not smirking.” I open an eye and look at her. “I don’t smirk. But if I did, then it would be because you didn’t know. And that makes it all OK.”

  She frowns. “You’re trying to tell me that the Way is starting global wars so they can round up displaced people and put them into camps, and then run trials on them?”

  I nod. “It’s sick. But it makes sense. I mean listen, OK?” I roll over on my side and prop myself up with one elbow. “I collect money from all the super-rich assholes in my sector every month, right?”

  She shrugs. “I guess. I don’t really know much about what you bankers do.”

  “Well, that’s what I do. They hand over a shitload of cash every month, I put it into hundreds of different accounts. And then every month that balance winds its way down to zero, so I have another money-making ceremony and collect more. Same thing happens. Every fuckin’ month. And when my dad died I went looking for answers because I never understood this. What could they possibly be spending all this money on? What costs billions of dollars every month? And why are so many charities controlled by the Way? I stayed up nights trying to figure that one out. And my dad, he didn’t tell me shit about why he collected money, and after he died I was just expected to take up where he left off. No explanation or anything. And we live on the top floors of this crazy office building in the city. Seventy-five stories tall. But there’s vaults in the center of the top floors and inside the vaults are boxes and boxes of shit.”

 

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