Claiming Johnny: A New-Adult Novel

by Dunning, Rachel

  “Bottoms up,” says a sweet voice. And is that a hand in my hair? Cat’s hand. Oh, she has beautiful fucking hands...

  Am I in a dream?

  A giggle. Someone giggling. The room spinning. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. Big tits. Big fucking tits. Girl moving closer, moving around the bar, swaying, grotesque and yet sexy ass, swaying...gone.

  Spinning, spinning, spinning.

  Why is there a shot glass in my hand? Why am I so...fucking...confused?

  Wetness on my ear. A whisper, a whisper and a hand, pulling. Then someone laughing, laughing, black hair, sexy sexy legs and a butt and...Cat. This is Cat in front of me. Yes. Yes, and she’s giving herself to me.

  Oh, thank God. Thank God. I thought I’d lost you, Cat. I thought I’d lost you for good.

  I fall, stumble, almost crash onto the ground but I land on something soft, something incredibly soft...big breasts. I landed on breasts. And then there’s a hand through my hair again, a hand and I’m being dragged.

  Spinning, everything spinning—

  The beach. We’re on the beach. How did we get here?

  Sand under my hands. Sand in my hair. Kissing. Lots of beautiful, wet kissing.

  Cat.

  Cat.

  Cat.

  Spinning. God, if only the world would stop fucking spinning.

  Someone has her tongue on my ear, her hand moving lower, lower, rubbing me, feeling me. “Oh, Cat,” I say. “Oh, God, Cat.”

  She giggles. And her hand feels me more forcefully. “Oh, Cat. Oh, yes...”

  And then Cat’s top comes off.

  The most massive, huge, pinkest breasts I’ve ever seen pop out in front of me.

  Jesus, Cat, when did your breasts get so fucking gargantuan...?

  The ocean rumbles in the distance.

  Spinning, spinning, spinning.

  Breasts on my face. “Oh, yes, Johnny,” someone says. “Oh, fucking yes.” Breasts, breasts bouncing against my nose, pushing, pressing, my tongue licking the huge nipples—

  Wait.

  “Oh, fuck, yes. Oh, yes.”

  Wait.

  The breasts bounce against me.

  Something riding against me below, rubbing against my jeans. Pushing, her legs squeezing either side of me.

  “Oh, yes, Johnny. Oh, fucking yes.”

  Hands, hands over the ink on my arm.

  Wait wait wait!

  Not Cat.

  “Oh, shit,” I say.

  “Oh, yes, Johnny.”

  It’s the big girl, the black-haired girl. Oh, fuck. What the fuck just happened?

  “Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh...” She begins to tremble.

  This can’t be happening to me.

  Her hands squeeze my shoulders, she presses down against my pants, riding me, pushing her breasts down against me.

  No, fucking Christ. How the fuck did this just happen?

  She bites her bottom lip, grins down at me, runs a hand through her short black hair and smiles. Breasts bouncing, bouncing, bouncing...

  Her eyes close.

  She inhales a deep breath.

  A small quiver takes her. Her hand tightens around my shoulder.

  The tiniest of whimpers, tiniest, so small as to nearly be imperceptible.

  And then, like a plane screaming for take-off. “Oh,” she whispers. “Oh, oh, oh.” Hand behind her ear. “OH, OH, OH.” Louder, louder, louder.

  Her legs judder against me.

  “Oh...yes.”

  Lift-off.

  -25-

  The black-haired girl starts unbuttoning my pants furiously after her climax, biting her bottom lip. “That was only the beginning, honey.”

  “No, wait, wait.”

  She moves her head down.

  Fuck. There’s no easy way to do this.

  “No!” I cry out.

  And then I’m up, looking down at her, on her knees, staring up at me with puppy eyes, unabashed, completely unabashed at being here stark naked from the waist up on a beach behind... Where are we? Behind some kind of low building and bushes. “Oh, Johnny, c’mon, that was only the beginning.”

  Still spinning, still spinning.

  I hold onto the nearest thing I can. “What the fuck did you give me?”

  The girl looks offended. “Give you? You said you wanted something local. What the fuck do you think this is?”

  Oh, Christ, this is so bad. “No, I...I didn’t mean that.”

  “Then what did you mean?” She looks upset, mad actually. Totally pissed off.

  “How did we end up here?”

  “We walked. Well, actually, you stumbled, and I carried you over mostly. You really can’t handle your liquor, can you?”

  “Look...” It dawns on me I don’t know her name. “I...I can’t.”

  “Cat? Or is it Nic? I got confused while you were telling me.”

  “I...told you?”

  “Your whole life story, Johnny.”

  She’s still naked from the waist up. Quite gorgeous, actually. “Look...” The name...

  “Vanessa,” she says.

  “Va—Vanessa. Look, I just...I just can’t. And...God...it’s not you. It’s...” My eyes linger on her big nipples. “Fuck me, it’s so not you. I just...”

  She stands abruptly, grabs her t-shirt, slaps it on. “You’re a fucking asshole, do you know that? Sober up and then you’re too fucking proud to do a fat girl.”

  She barely has her shirt on before she starts heading back to the boulevard.

  I snatch her wrist. “Let me the fuck go or I’ll scream out rape.”

  Oh, the irony. “Vanessa.”

  “Let—me—go.”

  Fuck, there’s only one way to solve this. And I don’t believe I’m about to do it.

  I snap my hand behind her neck, and I kiss her. I kiss her deeply, passionately, lovingly.

  She doesn’t pull away, and before I know it, she’s moaning, that deep, sensitive moan that starts in the throat and vibrates across your whole body. Her hand’s sliding up my back, then down, lower, lower.

  I stop the kiss.

  “Vanessa,” I whisper. “You are one of the hottest fucking girls I’ve ever met. Trust me when I tell you that I can’t. I can’t with anyone, not you, not a skinny girl, not a blond, not a brunette. No one.”

  Her hand keeps going lower. “Vanessa, please.”

  She smiles, that erotic, sexy, gorgeous smile. “We could’ve been great, Johnny.”

  Jesus, did this chick plan this all along?

  She puts her hand against my crotch. “Hmmm, looks like I left some unfinished business.”

  I pull away. “Vanessa, please don’t.”

  Her hand lingers there, just an inch from my very ready hard-on. “Johnny, I don’t know who this fucking Nic or Cat girl is. But she’d better do right by you, because you are one of a kind.”

  She taps my cock. And I’m so freaking turned on that only that might send me over the edge.

  I grit my teeth.

  She turns, sways those wide hips in a way that makes me wonder how many men she’s brought to this very spot over the years.

  She turns, walks back to me. “Vodka,” she says. “Strong Vodka, in all your beers. I didn’t plan this, Johnny. Well...not exactly. You just looked so...sad. I wanted to loosen you up. And then, well, you started talking and...well...I just wondered...” She closes her eyes, plays with some short strands of her hair. “I figured...well...most guys don’t, y’know, look at me...”

  I didn’t plan this.

  “So you got me drunk.”

  “You got yourself drunk.” She bites her lip. “And I...saw an opportunity. Hey, look, if you ever sort out your shit with these girls, I’m not looking for anything serious, OK? I mean, I know I’m...” She sighs. “I know I’m not what guys usually...look for—”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You are.” There’s something about her. Christ, I can’t tell what it is.

&nb
sp; “Whatever. Look, if you wanna have some fun, I’ll pull out the shooters. I get the bar to myself every night. No questions. No commitments, OK?”

  “Vanessa.”

  “What.”

  “You’re—wrong. And you’d have better chances of getting me when I’m sober.”

  She shakes her head, and her cheeks go a little red. “Oh, Johnny, what I wouldn’t give to be this Cat or whatever her name is.”

  Vanessa puts a hand on my shoulder, takes a tentative step forward. “Would you...kiss...me again? Like you did before? Nothing more. Just...like you did.”

  I can’t.

  Her grip tightens on my shoulder.

  And then she pecks me quickly on the lips. “Fine,” she says.

  She steps away, smiling coyly. “Well, at least I got off on you.” She smiles dangerously, and then she walks off, hips swaying, stopping traffic, cars honking.

  My cock is still hard, so unbelievably hard from when she was rubbing against me.

  But thank God that’s all that happened...

  And I’m drunk. So very drunk.

  But, drunk or not, Vanessa is one hot and dangerous piece of ass. Mostly dangerous. Definitely dangerous.

  It took everything I had to stop her from going down on me. Her lips had been open, moist, ready, and I could almost feel them surrounding my twitching cock.

  But I couldn’t.

  Why, Johnny? You’re single. And you’re committed to no one.

  I don’t bother answering that Why.

  I know the answer.

  And the answer sucks.

  -26-

  I decide not to frequent Tikilicious for the rest of my planned ‘relaxation time’ in West Rocks lest I get roofied and then accused of rape an hour later.

  I head out to the beach and meet up with some guys to play volleyball with, soak in the bathtub-hot water. A few girls come by and ask if I’ll rub suntan lotion on their backs. Then they linger, ask me where I’m from, ask me if I want to go out for a beer later tonight.

  “Uhm, I’m taken,” I lie.

  “Oh, yeah? Where is she?” says the blond. They must be barely legal these two.

  “Back home.”

  “And where’s that?”

  “New York.”

  “Well, honey,” says the one, “if she ain’t here, what’s the problem?”

  I shake my head, smile. These are cute chicks, just looking for some fun. Maybe they’re college girls. High school? Urgh. “I’m not your man, ladies. I’m sorry.”

  “Ooh, ladies!” says the brunette. “Well, hon, we’ll be over at Palms, that’s about a half a mile North from here. Just follow the boulevard. We’ll be there at eight or so.” They stand. The blond pulls up her bikini, the bottom part, pulls it up high to show me every contour, then holds it there. “We’ll keep a seat warm.”

  I’m chilling on the beach when I see Vanessa jumping into the water, splashing about, not giving a shit about her weight (and she looks good actually, so she shouldn’t care.)

  She smiles at me from a distance. And then she keeps looking at me, keeps smiling. She grabs her towel, dries off her hair, spends a fair amount of time drying off her chest. Looking at me, looking, looking, looking.

  She throws the towel over her shoulder, and sways back out to the boulevard. She catches me looking at her when she turns her head back to me.

  And she winks.

  For a second, a split second, I think I even see something human in her.

  Then a big guy approaches her. I mean...big. Like, bodybuilder big, steroid big, tall and massive.

  He looks at me as well.

  But he’s not smiling.

  And he’s definitely not winking.

  -27-

  I’m not surprised to see Thunder calling. “Who’s the fat chick?” he asks.

  “She’s not fat.”

  “Fine. Curvy. Who is she?”

  “A potential sex-offender.”

  It’s one of the few times I’ve stunned Thunder, and I take a moment’s pleasure in it. “So you’re doing her?”

  “You’re spying on me?”

  “I said I would.”

  I look around the beach. “Don’t bother looking around, Johnny. We blend.”

  “How did you kn—?”

  “I didn’t. I guessed. Good one, eh?”

  I’m not sure there isn’t someone watching me right now...

  “So you got any ideas how long you’ll be there?”

  “Not long. This place is...scary.”

  “Florida’s scary?”

  “Yeah, full of horny girls I’m not willing to do anything with.”

  “Well, far as I can tell, you’re still single. Best get it out of your system now. You remember my warning.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Johnny?”

  “What.”

  “There’s something you should know, and normally I wouldn’t tell you this shit on the phone, but I see you beating yourself up there and being the gentleman and all that crap. I’m all for chivalry, but in good taste.” Pause. “Johnny, Nicole’s shacking up with someone, some small-time producer who no doubt is showing her the inner workings of Hollywood, if you get what I mean. Far as I can tell, they spend a lot of time in the bedroom. A lot.”

  Rage fills me like nettled seaweed.

  “Johnny?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

  “Look, if you’re holding out for Cat, that’s one thing. But don’t hold out for Nicole, Johnny.

  “Nic was doing someone the night we found her, too. And the night she disappeared. I know you didn’t know that. I asked Cat to tell you, but I think she was right not to. It’s Nic’s job to tell you. But, yeah... I’m not telling you this because I want you flipping out on your vacation, but from what my eyes tell me, you’re not having much of a vacation.”

  Rage. Endless rage. Endless, betrayed rage.

  “Are you holding out for Nicole, or for Catherine?”

  “Cat and I aren’t together, Thunder. And there’s no promises of that on the horizon.” Even though I think about her when any girl flirts with me.

  “That’s what I thought. You gonna do the fat chick?”

  “Who says I haven’t?”

  “I don’t need eyes to know you haven’t. You got fists like a Mack truck, Johnny. But your heart’s a wet noodle.”

  I say nothing.

  “It’s not a bad trait,” he says.

  “How’s the nightclub?” I say, changing the subject.

  “Busiest night ever last night. I might steal it from under your feet if you stay away too long.”

  “Is that a hint?”

  “Yes. You know me. I hate standing still. But... Look, Johnny, take all the time you need, son. Everything’s under control this side. You got nothing to worry about.”

  “Thanks, Thunder.”

  “I wanna give you an opinion.”

  “You asking for permission?”

  “No, I’m building it up, because I want you to pay attention.” Thunder waits a beat. “Far as I can tell, you and Cat are a failure in opportunity, Johnny. When you were single, she was taken. When she was single, you were taken. Guess what, you’re both single now. That’s also a hint.”

  “Not a very subtle one.”

  “I don’t do subtle, boy. Anyway...” He sighs. “I confess, I got Alice in my ear rooting for you guys. Personally, I don’t give a shit what you do. Where does Cat stand on this?”

  “No idea.”

  “Yeah, well, we had hopes that Nic would come back and tell you about her infidelity herself. Things are different now.”

  “Very different.”

  “Opportunities, Johnny. A failure in opportunities.”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  “Good. Now you’re hearing me the second. You want my opinion on the fat chick?”

  “She’s not fat.”

  “That’s exactly my opinion. She’s hot, and she’s curvy, and she loo
ks like a killer in the bedroom. The key word there is killer. A girl with a nice wet pussy doesn’t make her a nice girl. Wise words of the day.”

  “You’re so poetic.”

  “I fucking try.”

  I’m smiling despite myself when I put the phone down.

  I look out across the beach, look at the stunning bodies walking around here. I think of Vanessa, how she winked at me, her big bodybuilder boyfriend. I think of the two college girls who invited me to a bar tonight. Eight PM, they said.

  Eight PM.

  Worst of all, I think of something else, and the image comes out of nowhere. Nowhere.

  I think of Cat, when she was eighteen. She was wearing thigh-high stockings that day. She had hidden them under some jeans. I went to the bathroom, and when I got back into my bedroom, there she was, sitting on the chair, no top on, no bottom either. And wearing black, silk stockings.

  Her cheeks were flushed. This wasn’t like her, not like her at all.

  She smiled, and she seemed to shiver a little in the getup.

  It wasn’t so much sexy as it was so unbelievably romantic, that I melted into a puddle on my knees in front of her, my eyes glued between her legs.

  Cat isn’t like Nic, or like Vanessa. She’s never been the Get-Your-Cock-Hard-With-My-Sexiness-Alone type.

  But in the bedroom, once she’s given you her heart...she’s more, so much more than that.

  I curled my fingers behind her knees and yanked her body toward me, pressed my lips against her center. She was hot and silky and her taste sent me reeling. It didn’t take her long. She begged me to stop, but only for my sake. I couldn’t. I loved her. I loved her more than any slut could make me love her if that slut wore the same outfit.

  Cat’s legs spasmed and contracted against my ears and her hands tugged and pulled at my hair while she soared.

  She gave a squeak, and a moan, lifted her left leg for a second, just at the end. And then she fell back, her body limp, breathing heavily, a silly, dopey smile on her face. “I dressed this way for you, not for me.”

  “That was for me,” I said.

  We didn’t do anything else that night. I pulled her into my bed and held her. Later, about two or three hours later, she slid on top of me, pulled me inside her. She held me as we reached the top together, her little arms crushing around my neck.

  We stayed like that for minutes at the end. I never wanted to take myself out of her.