The Hookup

by Kristen Ashley

  I did it hard, knowing Johnny was watching, knowing he could see everything, the shockwaves of a magnificent orgasm setting me to bucking my hips into his as he let out a far less muted roar and his thrusts grew violent.

  And he completed the task of fucking me stupid.

  “See you tomorrow night.”

  We’d just finished making out with Johnny pressing me to the door of my car when he said that.

  I was heading home.

  I did not want to head home.

  But as it was with my life, I had to.

  “See you tomorrow night,” I replied.

  He unpinned me by stepping away and I’d just started to turn in order to open my door when he said, “Just a sec, spätzchen.”

  I turned back.

  He moved back in.

  I looked up at him.

  His hand landed gently on my neck and slid up to cup the underside of my jaw.

  “Gotta know,” he murmured.

  “Gotta know what?” I asked when he didn’t elucidate.

  “What ‘just you’ meant.”

  I stopped looking at him, though I was now looking at his ear so I was still kinda looking at him, just not at him.

  “Baby,” he whispered, giving my jaw a tender squeeze.

  “I’m not like that,” I told his ear.

  “Like what?” he pressed.

  “In bed.” My eyes skimmed through his until I was looking at his other ear. “I’m not like that in bed with anyone but you.”

  He said nothing to that, and this lasted so long I chanced a glance at his eyes.

  The instant my eyes met his in the moonlight, he asked, “How are you not like that?”

  “I don’t let go,” I whispered, fighting back the heat that wanted to beat into my cheeks.

  “You don’t let go,” he murmured.

  “Like that . . . like . . . uh, the um, sex kitten. I don’t . . . that’s just . . .” I drew in a shaky breath. “You’re the only one I’ve felt . . . that’s made me . . .” I pressed out a heavy sigh. “That makes me like that.”

  “From the beginning?” he asked.

  “Sorry?”

  “Baby, you were hot and wild for me from our first night.”

  “Yes,” I said softly. “From the beginning.”

  There was a tenseness to his frame, even a tenseness in the way his hand was at my jaw, and I felt something extreme in the way his gaze was boring into mine.

  “So the sex kitten is all mine,” he stated.

  “I’m not really a sex kitten, Johnny,” I told him honestly.

  “Izzy, you watched your own show. You fuckin’ are.”

  “Not . . . not, well . . . not like, right now.”

  “Thank fuck.”

  I stared up at him.

  “What?”

  “Always wonder how wise it is to clue you in to all that’s you, but for you, Iz, I’ll do it. Since you don’t have a dick, you can’t have any idea the man who’s got claim to that body,” his other hand came to rest on my waist, “that man bein’ me, gets off on having the sweet, cute Izzy you give to the world knowing, when I get you in bed, you’ll light up like that for me. Watch me fuck you. Let me take your ass. Watch me blow for you. And all the other stuff you give to me when I get you naked and you let go for me.”

  His face dipped close and I continued to stare in his eyes.

  “It’s an honor,” he whispered.

  “An honor?” I whispered back.

  “That you’d give me that. That you’d feel that safe with me.” His eyes changed in the moonlight. “From the beginning.”

  There was something profound in that, I knew it back then.

  He didn’t.

  Until now.

  And he definitely knew it now.

  And he definitely liked what he knew.

  I knew that because he kissed me.

  Repeatedly.

  Not deep and wet and hungry.

  Soft kisses. Sometimes invading my mouth but just to stroke it with his tongue. Sometimes just brushing my mouth with his. Sometimes nibbling my lower lip.

  Again and again and again.

  I was holding on to his shoulders, my head tipped back, my mouth on offer to him. It was his and he could take it, kiss me like that until the sun rose, until the leaves turned brown, until the world stopped spinning.

  The problem was he actually couldn’t.

  I had to get home to my sister. Sleep. Go to work the next day.

  And he had to let me.

  He knew that better than me because he quit kissing me and murmured against my lips, “Loved tonight, spätzchen. Text me when you’re home safe. And see you tomorrow.”

  I nodded, my forehead bumping against his and I saw his eyes smile.

  My body felt fluid, not entirely from the sex, but from his soft kisses and sweet words, when he moved away from me and I turned and climbed into my car.

  I started it and waved at him and didn’t worry that I looked like a dork.

  I was his dork.

  Johnny Gamble’s dork.

  His sex kitten.

  His woman.

  So I could wave like a dork if I wanted to.

  I waved again as I drove away, looking into the rearview mirror at him standing and watching me go, Ranger sitting at his side.

  And I drove home thinking I was still ecstatic about what was happening with Johnny.

  But I was no longer scared.

  The Veil Dropped

  Izzy

  “WELL, ALL RIGHT.”

  I looked from my computer to the door to see Deanna waltzing in after saying that.

  She closed the door behind her.

  I glanced back at the computer and again to Deanna before I said, “Addie and Brooks won’t be here for lunch for another half an hour.”

  “Know that, baby girl, but just to say, heard the word,” Deanna replied.

  “What word?”

  “The word from Sally, bartender at Home, who gave it to Norma, who owns Home, who had her hair done this morning by some chick I don’t know, but at my hair salon, Image, where my stylist Crystal is. And Crystal knows you and me are tight. Crystal also overheard Norma telling her stylist that Sally was totally in the Shandra camp, until you did whatever you did with Johnny, being all kissy and sweet and then making him laugh real hard. Now Sally’s an Izzy convert, and from this story, Norma’s switched sides and Crystal too.”

  It felt vaguely good that I was winning the townspeople of Matlock over.

  But mostly I didn’t care.

  “This doesn’t matter, Deanna,” I reminded her.

  “Just came in to give you the thumbs up for a job well done,” Deanna replied.

  “It isn’t a job. I was having drinks with my guy.”

  “Your guy?”

  I grinned at her. “Well, he calls me ‘his woman’ so I’m thinking it’s safe for me to call him my guy.”

  Her eyes started sparkling. “Yeah, I’d say that’s safe.”

  I had a feeling my eyes were sparkling too.

  We sparkled at each other for a while before she said, “You do know, Johnny Gamble hasn’t been Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky since Shandra took off on him.”

  I felt my sparkle blink out.

  “Sorry?”

  “This is what Norma said to Crystal. He’s a regular at Home. Not a barfly but he goes to catch a game. Throw back a beer with a bud. It’s the only bar in town so even me and Charlie are regulars there, though they don’t have martini glasses, so it ain’t really my style. It’s just my only choice unless I wanna mix my own drinks and sometimes, girl, I just am not in the mood.”

  “They don’t have a wine list either,” I shared something she probably knew.

  “Dire,” she muttered. “Anyway,” she perked up, “Johnny Gamble has not exactly made it a habit to pick up some chick and canoodle with her at Home, but it’s safe to say he definitely hasn’t roared with laughter, those were Norma’s words to Crystal, at all. E
ver. For three years.”

  I found this alarming.

  “He hasn’t . . . laughed?” I asked for confirmation.

  “I don’t know. Probably no one knows. No one has spent twenty-four seven with the man. Seen him. When I did, he seemed normal, not moody, but not bright and cheery either. He just seemed kinda . . . detached. Like he was going through the motions.”

  I felt my body lock as memories of our first morning together hit me like a shot.

  Johnny, standing out on the deck, deep in thought, drinking coffee.

  Removed.

  Then there was when we were talking about vegetables and I’d been being a goof and he’d burst out laughing.

  It was the first time I’d heard him laugh in our then short acquaintance.

  I remember thinking it was beautiful.

  But rusty.

  It didn’t sound rusty anymore.

  “Iz?” Deanna called.

  I focused on her.

  “Maybe I am a miracle worker,” I whispered.

  A slow, white smile spread across her beautiful face.

  “Baby girl, I knew that a long time ago,” she replied.

  And as was her way, with a successful parting shot, she swayed out of my office.

  I lay in bed on my side, the covers up over my hip, my eyes on the little daybed in the raised alcove to the side of my bedroom where one of the windows was.

  On that daybed were three pairs of men’s pajama pants. They weren’t threadbare but they were downy with use.

  I sensed movement behind me and rolled to my back to watch Johnny emerge from the bathroom wearing another pair of pajama bottoms.

  We’d found we had a new talent in bed.

  We could be quiet and it still was spectacular.

  His eyes roamed me in the pale-pink fitted, ribbed, knit camisole with the lace edging at the top, which I pulled on after we were done and he’d gone to the bathroom. His lips hitched before he put a knee to the bed, pulling the covers up and spying the all-lace, white panties I’d put back on after he’d taken them off.

  He slid under the covers beside me and then claimed me, doing this by pulling me to him, gliding a hand down my spine, over my bottom and between my legs from the back in a way I had no choice but to glue my front to his front and hike my leg over his hip.

  I looked up into his eyes. “I can’t be without panties with my sister and Brooks in the house, unless, of course, I’m having sex.”

  The white slashed through his beard and he muttered, “Baby.”

  He lightly stroked the gusset of my panties and I squirmed.

  I also whispered, “Are we gonna make love again?”

  The white stayed in his beard as he answered, “No. Just like feeling the wet you give me.”

  “Oh.”

  His brows went up. “You can’t take even this without starting to light up for me?”

  I tucked my face in his throat.

  He cupped me between my legs and said, “Okay, spätzchen.”

  I nuzzled his throat.

  “Your internal alarm clock wakes you up, you wake me up, Iz.”

  I tipped my head back again. “Sorry?”

  “I’ll take care of the animals, make you breakfast. You just take care of what you gotta do to get ready for work.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Johnny.”

  “Right,” he said, shifting his hand out from between my legs, up and then down inside my panties where he gently cupped a cheek of my behind. “We’re here again so I’ll give it to you. I’m that guy as well. You got an hour-long commute. I got a ten-minute commute. It takes you six times the amount of time to get ready for work as it does me. It isn’t that taking care of animals is man’s work, which, babe, just to say, I’m that guy too so for me it is. But for me as the man in the life of the woman you are, it’s about doing shit I do not mind doing so you can have an extra half hour of shuteye or just an easier morning. So when I wake up in this bed, Iz, I take care of the animals and breakfast. You take care of you.”

  I stared at him.

  “We straight about that?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “You good with that?” he went on.

  I nodded again.

  “Good,” he said. “Tomorrow night, I’m letting you be with your sister. Maybe if you have some concentrated time with her, she’ll open up about whatever’s going on with her.”

  I didn’t want concentrated time with my sister.

  I did, of course I did.

  I still wanted time with Johnny.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Maybe,” he repeated after me. “We can hope.” He looked deep in my eyes. “She’s degenerating.”

  I was surprised.

  “You noticed that?” I asked.

  “All spark and fire, better to hide she’s dying inside. Now, she’s just dying inside.”

  I pressed closer to him, loving that he caught that but hating he was right.

  Addie was slipping into a state of despair with each passing day. She was becoming less of herself, more withdrawn. The only time she lit up was for Brooks. The rest, for her, was going dark.

  “I’m more worried about her now than ever,” I told him.

  “Yeah. You don’t hide that. She just isn’t responding to it.”

  “Maybe concentrated time will help.”

  “That and I’m taking you two to a pizza joint in Bellevue Friday night. If you haven’t been, you have to go. If you’ve been, you’ll want to go back. I’ll ask Margot and Dave if they’ll look after Brooks, and if Addie is down with them doing that, we’ll drop him off and go have pizza. Don’t know what she’s doing while you’re at work but a lot of time alone kicking around your house with nothing but her thoughts and no contact with the outside world isn’t helping. She needs to get out. Live life. Eat good pizza. Be a woman without her kid attached to her hip. I know she loves him but every parent needs a break. We’ll come back to town, go to Home, throw a few back, get loosened up. Try to get some life back in her.”

  I was back to staring.

  “That a plan?” he asked.

  I nodded and told him, “She came into the city to have lunch with Deanna and me today, Johnny. And that didn’t help.”

  “Well, she’ll get a dose of just her sister tomorrow night and more of us showing we got her back Friday. She’s the sharp edge to your soft touch. She’s nearly as pretty as you, you look like sisters, but she couldn’t be more different. Though deep down, she’s got that iron you talked about that your mother gave both of you. We just gotta find ways to remind her of it.”

  “Yes,” I agreed quietly.

  “Talk to her tomorrow about it and about Margot and Dave looking after Brooks.”

  I nodded again. “I will.”

  “I’ll be here with Mist around ten o’clock Saturday morning. Don’t muck out Serengeti and Amaretto’s stalls. After I unload him and get his shit sorted, I’ll do it.”

  “Johnny—”

  “You need to be with your sister.”

  I said nothing because I was again staring at his handsome face in his handsome head resting on my frilly white pillow.

  “I’m done with the stalls, I’ll take Brooks home with me. He can nap there. I’ll give him lunch. We’ll hang out. We’ll come back for dinner with your friends. You look after your sister. Do your facials. Get her loaded. Whatever. Just try to break through without her having to worry about taking care of her boy.”

  “Thank you for the margarita,” I blurted.

  His expression grew perplexed. “What?”

  I pushed into him so he was on his back and I was on him. I got onto my forearms in the pillow to hold his head at the sides in both hands.

  “Thank you for the margarita,” I repeated, my voice husky.

  His hands were resting on my hips and he stared up into my eyes in a way I knew he knew precisely what I was saying.

  “It was the best drink I’ve ever tasted,” I wh
ispered.

  “Spätzchen,” he whispered back.

  “I’m totally fucking you again now, Johnny,” I shared, opening my legs and pulling up my knees so I could straddle him.

  He grinned and both his hands dove into the back of my panties. “You gonna be able to be quiet?”

  “We’ll see.”

  He again slid his hand between my legs from behind.

  I shivered on top of him.

  “My Izzy’s sweet, wet pussy,” he murmured, stroking it.

  I rocked gently into his hand.

  “Need my jeans, baby, unless you got a condom close,” he said.

  “I’m on the Pill,” I replied.

  His black eyes went molten.

  “Ungloved?” he asked low.

  “When you blow, I want all of that,” I answered.

  He emitted his muted roar and drove two fingers inside.

  I arched my neck back and rode them.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, and I felt his other hand working between us, untying his pajama bottoms, shoving them down, and then his hard cock was pressing against me and his hand.

  He slid his fingers out.

  I shifted up.

  He yanked the gusset of my panties aside and guided his cockhead to me.

  I bore down on it.

  He hissed out a breath.

  I sat up and took him deep.

  Eyes half-mast, pussy full of Johnny, I gazed down at him and breathed, “Enjoy the show, honey.”

  Then I moved.

  Johnny held my hips and did as bid, only shifting to start thrusting up into me when I was taking him there. He didn’t even go for my clit, but he didn’t have to since I gave that to him too, touching myself as I rode his cock and he watched.

  When I came, I arced back and whimpered my climax through closed lips.

  When he came, his groan forced its hushed way through clenched teeth.

  I collapsed on him and his arms immediately circled me tight.

  It took some time before I could say, “I’ll go clean up.”

  His arms got tighter. “Don’t fuckin’ move.”

  I didn’t move then, and I only moved when, many moments later he rolled side to side, holding me to him as he reached and turned out the lights.

  He kept me planted on him in the dark as he grew soft and I lost him. And he kept me planted on him as I started leaking all over him.