“Oh...mannnnnnn.”
She crosses her legs behind my head, locking me between them, crunching me against her skin.
“Oh—”
And then she makes a sound, she makes a sound I’ve never heard a woman make before. It’s a low, expectant, wailing moan.
“Mmmmmm. Mmmmmm. Mmmmmm!”
Her legs tighten.
“Oh...fucking...damn.”
-67-
She sits up, eyes drooping, a languid smile on her face.
She pushes me back, lifts me up by the shoulders so that I stand, starts unbuttoning my pants, biting her bottom lip.
But that’s not what I want tonight. Not tonight. We have plenty of time for that on other nights.
Tonight, I want to make love to her. That’s all I want. Nothing more. Nothing else. Good ole vanilla love.
Because with Cat, it’s never vanilla.
Cat is her own flavor.
~Cat~
-68-
Johnny grabs my hands and holds them.
I look up into the deep green of his eyes and I know that he’s the one in charge tonight.
So I don’t question it.
He takes his shirt off, and my body begins pulsing again. He’s already taken me over the top, but the area between my legs is singing again.
I pull him closer, lick the sweat off his abs, slide my hands over the roundness of his butt.
Still standing, he unbuttons my blouse. A simple white thing that I was worried wouldn’t look sexy enough for him. But it seems I was wrong.
He lifts it off, and my breasts spill out.
Johnny’s face changes into something hungry, something starved, and before I know it, he’s got me on my back, his desperate mouth over my breasts and his fingers inside me.
Already I’m reeling, tightening, spinning like crazy for him. The hotness of his breath sends sharp lightning down my sides and through my legs.
I rock into him, pressing against his fingers, wanting them deeper, wanting him inside me.
But I don’t fight the wave when it hits me again. He knows what he’s doing. He always knows what he’s doing.
He moves his lips to my other breast, his fingers moving deeper, his thumb twirling and massaging my sweet spot until I can’t hold back anymore.
Every muscle in my body tightens. I grab onto Johnny’s massive back like I’m falling off a cliff.
And then I do fall.
I fall and I scream and before I know it I’m biting his arm, crumbling, juddering, my legs spasming. “Oh, oh. Oh fuck that’s intense. Jesus, Johnny. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”
He doesn’t.
He keeps me going until every rope is about to snap. Until my lungs are sore from holding my screams in.
And then I can’t even do that. I scream out. “Oh, FUCK! FUCK! OH, YES!”
And Johnny continues, pressing, twirling his tongue over my breast, licking, tasting, biting just lightly.
“OH...YES.”
Everything tightens. It feels like my back is about to explode.
And then I do explode.
The world stops moving.
It seems like my breath is caught for an eternity in my lungs.
A peaceful, wonderful, shining bliss takes over me.
And still Johnny continues, rubbing harder and harder, keeping me at the top for as long as possible.
And then...he doesn’t need to rub at all.
Johnny strokes my wetness below, waiting for me to catch my breath.
His lips on my breast get softer, more gentle, easier.
His tongue laps my left nipple slowly.
I’m smiling. Smiling brightly. Sweating. Relaxing. Every muscle in my body spent.
Johnny looks up at me, grinning.
He pecks my ribs, my stomach, then lower.
He kisses the inside of my thighs. Looks up at me, grinning. “Got room in you for one more?” he says.
Just the words alone tighten me up.
I look up at the ceiling, my hips already curling up instinctively. “Oh, yes.”
-69-
He slide his pants off, and when I see him naked, when I see him hard and huge and ready, my body starts pumping again with need.
My legs open wider without me thinking, and then I’m licking my lips.
He slides above me, between my legs, the tip of his cock just touching me below.
I try keep my eyes open, I do, but I fail completely. “Oh, Johnny.” I have no control over the words, none at all.
His hand slides through my hair. “I love you,” he says. “I love you, Catherine Ramsey. And I want you to be my wife.”
My knees press against him, trying to pull him inside me.
He pushes inwards just with the tip, and I moan. My hands clutch his butt, trying to pull him further in, deeper, trying to get him inside me—when I remember something.
I push him back out, unwillingly. “Johnny,” I whisper. “Johnny, I’m—I stopped taking the pill. I have...” I stretch my hand out to the nightstand. “I have rubbers.”
His eyes glare down at me, his face unchanged at my statement.
I fumble for the rubbers, but he grabs my wrist and stops me, looks me deep in the eyes.
A smile starts to form on my face, and something foreign, and yet so primal, bubbles inside my belly.
“No pressure,” he whispers.
“No pressure.”
His hand leaves my wrist. And he waits.
I don’t grab the rubber, don’t move.
He nods, almost imperceptibly. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
My hands slide over his butt again, trying to pull him in.
I feel his head again, pushing just around my entrance, so hot, so warm, so ready.
I widen my legs, push myself down.
His head lingers, just touching me, just a little, and I feel myself pulse, feeling the urge to drive him all the way up into me, that natural urge to be filled by him.
“So you’re OK with....falling pregnant,” he says.
Falling pregnant. Christ, who thought those words would make me hornier than anything he’s done to me so far tonight. “Yes.”
Johnny smiles, smiles widely, smiles with a joy so grand that all I want to do is hold him and feel him burst inside me.
But he’s still waiting. “I’m OK with it,” I say. “I’m more than OK with—”
“Shhh.” He presses a finger onto my lips.
With his other hand, he grabs his cock, maneuvers it between my folds.
My eyes close, despite myself.
He leans down lower, brings his lips to my ears. “I love you,” he says.
And then he thrusts.
-70-
I’m lost, lost inside him, lost inside the moment, lost inside a world so beautiful and magical that my mind is adrift, gone.
I hear sounds, grunting, mad panting as Johnny smothers me with his body. My hands are around his shoulders, grappling, pulling, shifting. I rock my hips, feeling the friction of him against me, widening my legs, then contracting, widening, the force building inside me, burning, burning, building up until all our motions are one. I get up onto my elbows, look down at where he’s entering me, pushing inside me, then out again, then inside.
I lift myself up, and soon we hit a rhythm, me rubbing against him and him against me.
Johnny’s up on his hands, looking into my eyes, and then he’s kissing me, kissing me and the pressure is building below, building furiously, madly, every drive an urgent call to something just beyond our reach.
Sweat drips down his brow. His face contorts into a grimace. He pushes harder, harder, harder.
I rock more forcefully, pulling him in, holding myself up on both hands, then one, then both again, then one—
“Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, Johnny. Jeezus, yes. Yes.”
Thrusting, rocking, rhythmic pulling, pushing—
My left hand grabs his shoulder.
Johnny’s groans become deeper.
His movements faster. Faster. Harder. Deeper.
“Oh, God, yes. Oh—”
Thrust
“—hell yeah. Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh...umpf...oh, God, yes...”
And then it begins, crawling, like something under my skin, burning, scratching.
I begin a long moan that is almost constant. I lose control of my voice. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” Johnny pushes me down, and my knees go up and my feet lock behind his back.
His movements are furious now, mad and desperate. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
A blur. The bed squeaking. Headboard banging against the wall. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Oh, baby, yes. Oh, baby. Oh, baby. Babybabybabybabybabybabybabybaby.”
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Johnny begins to growl. “Oh, fuck yes.”
His neck muscles tighten, every line in them coming out in snaking curls. “Oh, Cat, I’m gonna come.”
“Come inside me, baby. Come inside me. Come inside me.”
“Oh, fuck.”
Harder. Harder. Harder. Harder.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
His eyes tighten.
“Come with me baby. Come with me.”
The last thrust lifts my butt off the bed.
Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head.
His arms go tight.
His massive chest clenches into something like a hard wall.
He rolls his head, pushes himself so deep inside me that I squeak.
“Come with me baby. Come with me.”
And then he roars. He fucking roars. And I’ve never heard a man roar like this before. “OH...FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”
At first, I don’t realize I’m coming.
His face is so beautiful, so beautiful and serene. My eyes are locked on him, locked on his hair and his nose and his open mouth.
He goes mad inside me, loses himself completely in the moment.
I only realize I’m coming when my back arches, bliss filling every pore and muscle in my body.
We’re screaming, screaming together, howling, crashing and thundering.
The bed bangs like an old freight train.
It scrapes against the floor. Johnny’s eyes shut closed, his head still rolling.
And then, that one final thrust, deeper than any of the others, so deep that, for a second, my fingernails dig deep into his shoulders, my teeth bite into my bottom lip.
The moment lasts forever.
Paused.
Everything silent, as if time itself has stopped.
My eyes locked in his, in their magic, in that moment where nothing moves...
...and then all is well in the world.
Nothing is wrong.
Nothing is wrong at all.
Johnny sags. He exhales. Exhales again. “Wow,” he says. “Wow...that was...” He looks up at me, his eyes lidded. “...fucking...incredible.”
I smile, push a strand of his sweaty hair away from his eyes.
“That was...fucking...incredible,” he says again.
“Stay inside me,” I say. “Stay inside me, OK?”
He falls on top of me, kisses my neck, my sweat-soaked breasts, then my ears, my lips, my forehead. My breasts again, ever rocking, ever rocking into me. Never fully softening.
It’s not long before he’s whirring into me again. The bed banging against the wall again, scraping against the floor again.
And then again.
And again.
Not once pulling himself out of me.
Not again.
Never again.
~Johnny~
-71-
One year later...
“You nervous?” Thunder says, straightening my tie.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You remember my warning.”
“Clearly.”
“I see you invited the fat chick.”
“She’s not fat. And I didn’t invite her. The guy you hooked her up with invited her.”
Vanessa texted me a week after I left Florida. It said: Thanks for the Biker Boy. He’s...delicious ;)
“Hey, I didn’t hook her up with anyone,” Thunder says. “I just presented an opportunity for them.”
“Like me and Cat.”
“Something like that.” He looks me over. “Not bad,” he says. “I’d look better in it, but I’m not the one getting married.”
I stand at the top of the aisle, waiting for my lady in white to appear. Vanessa’s an absolute wreck, tears streaming down her face and ruining her make-up. She’s sitting next to my sister. Daniela really likes her, which I took as being a good sign. Daniela’s here with Tyler. They’ve been dating over a year now. I haven’t spoken much to him, but I trust her judgment.
Mom’s a wreck as well, so is Alice.
Women.
And then my goddess appears, glamorous, exquisite, a dress of flowing white lace and a veil that hides her magnificent beauty.
My dad’s bringing her down the aisle. Because Thunder is my best man. And Pat has been as much a father to Cat since her dad died as anyone.
Heck, dad looks a bit of a wreck himself.
Cat stands in front of me, her lips quivering under the veil.
And all I can think of right now is getting underneath that dress and finding something blue...
Johnny, get a grip.
The sun is shining, a perfect day in June.
You can’t even see Cat’s belly in the dress. She’s only a month pregnant after all. If it had been up to me, we would have gotten married a year ago. But she wanted a June wedding, with all the important people in her life here, lots of preparation.
Besides, I wasn’t going anywhere, so I was happy to wait.
It doesn’t mean we stopped trying to make babies. Nope. We did that a lot. It just took some time.
The minister’s words are a little hazy to me. I still can’t get over how I nearly lost this girl, and how she’s standing here right in front of me, my bride, the girl I will spend the rest of my life with.
But I refuse to cry at my own wedding. Crying during the proposal was bad enough.
When the minister says, “You may kiss the bride,” and Cat pulls her veil off, something changes inside me. Something fills me. Pride, perhaps. Or something else. Something...more fundamental.
She is my wife, this girl.
I will care for her, and love her, and protect her to my dying days.
I will protect my family, do everything I can to keep them out of harm’s way.
I kiss her lips, hear her moan, feel her body tremble under my arm.
The crowd bursts into cheers.
Thunder is particularly loud.
I can’t let go of her lips, can’t. It’s like I’m kissing her for the first time.
A tear falls from her eyes. And then another.
She starts smiling, my lips still on hers, my hand still around her back.
She flings her arms around me, presses her lips harder against mine, pushes her tongue inside me. I’m hot for her, damn I’m hot for her.
Her breath fills me like something godly.
Somehow, we extract ourselves from each other. I grab her hand, look down at her belly. My child, I think.
And then, back of that: Our child.
We walk up the aisle while people throw confetti on us. Dani’s being hugged by Tyler. Vanessa’s make-up is completely ruined, her Biker Bad Boy holding her firmly under his arm.
I get Cat into our new car. Someone’s done us the honor of tying cans to the back of it. I’m sure Thunder’s hooked it up with a tracking device so he can make sure we’re safe.
I’m OK with that.
We drive off, Cat’s hand on my lap, a permanent smile on my face.
Cat puts her other hand to her belly, and something
glows on her when she does.
“What should we call it?” she says.
“What do you wanna call it?”
She looks out at the road, the sun beginning to set. “If it’s a boy, I wanna call it Jack.”
“OK,” I say. “Jack it is. And if it’s a girl?”
She looks down at her belly, rubs it. “Jacquie.”
-72-
The road swallows us, and soon, so does the sun. If you follow our story, you will discover that the child that is born is indeed a boy. And we do call him Jack. After Jack Ramsey, Cat’s father. The boy grows up strong, liking football. His grandparents smother him with gifts, and Jack quickly learns to speak Portuguese. His one grandfather, however, refuses to take on the title. He says he’s too young to be called a granddad. And the fact that he married Alice, doesn’t mean he’s now automatically of retirement age. That same granddad watches over Jack, watches over him when Cat and I aren’t home, or are taking some time off to keep the spark alive, a spark which led to a wildfire.
That granddad, is not a granddad at all.
He tells Jack he’s an Uncle.
Uncle Thunder.
Deleted Scene
From the Author
Although this scene is extremely short, there was no good place for it in the book. I give it to you here in case you’re interested in finding out what happened to Nic.
~Johnny~
It’s not long before Nicole is appearing on the front covers of some of those same gossip magazines Vanessa liked to read.
And shortly after that, she lands herself a role in an A-list movie. It’s a small part, but she doesn’t hold back on showing off her tits, and doing a few hot and steamy sex scenes.
I wouldn’t really know. I never saw that flick.
Neither did Cat.
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Claiming Johnny: A New-Adult Novel Page 15