The Hookup (Page 53)

We were beautiful.

God, we were beautiful.

Johnny must have felt the swift ride to climax I was taking had slowed as I watched him fuck me, getting off on yet something else he gave me, because his head came up.

And his eyes locked on mine on our reflection.

Instantly, that muted roar rumbled up his chest, so deep, I felt it beating down my spine, exploding between my legs.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growled.

No.

He was.

Suddenly, I was up on just my knees and fully exposed to my eyes, his eyes, watching myself take his cock as he moved his hands to cover my pubis in a V and then up my belly, over my breasts, where he gripped me on either side at the juncture of neck and shoulders and held me steady to take his cock.

That was even more beautiful.

I whimpered and started moving more desperately on him, meeting his thrusts, my breasts swaying with my movements.

“Look at my sex kitten,” Johnny grunted, his eyes locked on our reflection. “She loves taking my cock.”

“Yes,” I breathed.

His hands came back down, one cupping my breast, fingers rolling my nipple, the other pushing my hand aside to dive in and rub my clit.

I moaned, and as much as I didn’t want to lose the sight of us, I couldn’t stop my head dropping back as my movements became frantic.

“Look at you,” Johnny groaned. “Fuck. Christ.” He squeezed my nipple and I gave a small cry. “Look at you.”

I felt my hair tickling my chest, tremors starting to flow through me, and I forced my eyes back to our reflection, seeing my body moving wildly on his, my knees spread wide, my sex exposed, everything exposed, slamming into his thrusts, watching his cock sink in, pull out and sink in again and again and again.

“Johnny,” I gasped.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled. “Yeah. You love taking my cock, don’t you?”

“God yes,” I panted.

“Work it, Izzy,” he ordered thickly.

I was working it but I worked at it more. For me. For Johnny. For moments like this I’d do anything.

My back arched, angling him deeper, and I cried out again.

“Fuck,” Johnny bit out, his face had been dark with sex but now it was cruel with it. Cruel and beautiful. “That’s it, sex kitten, give it to your man.”

“Just you,” I forced out.

“Just me,” he clipped off, his fingers at my breast curling and digging in almost painfully.

“Just you,” I whimpered. “Only you. I’m only this for you.”

I barely registered the look on his face changing before my head shot back, hitting his shoulder, my spine arced at an impossible angle and I came.

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.