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.