misunderstoodebook (32 page)

“Kendall, sleep off the alcohol,” he said, weary. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

He released her and got to his feet, damning his erection. She was in no state for him to make love to her, but, hell, he enjoyed being inside Kendall.

She wobbled to her knees, her towels falling away. She hung precariously over the edge of the bed, threatening to topple over. To prevent that, Johnnie grasped her arms. She seized his dick, ducking her head to take him into her mouth.

“Kendall, goddamn it, no!”

His attempt to pry her mouth away earned the nip of her sharp teeth and his toes curled. She was sucking him like a mad woman, her saliva dripping onto his balls, her head bobbing up and down in a frantic motion. He had no chance against her onslaught, so he gripped the damp tangles of her hair and held her in place to fuck her mouth with all the enthusiasm she’d shown him and when he came, she pulled away, allowing his semen to spray her face.

She collapsed onto her side and rolled onto her back, opening her legs and spreading her pussy like a Thanksgiving feast.

“I’ll lose weight. I promise. I couldn’t stop myself from eating. I couldn’t…I just got fat again. But I made it come up and I’m going to lose the weight, so you can want me again.”

“Kendall, hush,” he soothed, crawling beside her and gathering her into his arms. He swallowed, her words hitting him in the gut. “Hush, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous. I didn’t stop touching you because I think you’re fat.”

“Take me now, then, Johnnie. Please.” She entwined her legs around his and rubbed her wetness against his thigh.

While he froze in indecision, she swayed onto him, wrapping her hands around his cock and guiding it to her slick entrance. She impaled herself to the hilt and began a rhythm as wild as her dick sucking had been.

She bent and grabbed his head, guiding his mouth to her bouncing breasts, stilling herself long enough to allow him to latch on. He drew the turgid tip between his teeth and suckled, pulling a harsh cry from her. He rammed his cock into her, meeting the downward motion of her body.

She lifted herself up, then speared him back into her hot pussy, her juices drenching his balls and thighs. Switching to the other breast, he licked her nipple, blowing on the tip, his fingers finding her clit and wringing the first screaming orgasm from her.

He rolled her onto her back, let his cum shoot onto her belly, and cleaned her up with the damp towel.

He scooted down her body until he reached her feet and he sat up on his haunches. He took one foot into his hand and massaged the arch, bringing his mouth to the top and placing a soft kiss near her big toe. He slid his tongue to her ankle and she lifted up on her elbows, her gaze dazed with passion, alcohol, and secrets. He never removed his gaze from hers, determined to hold her captive, as he laved her calf, her knee, the inside of her thigh before he did the same to the other side and turned her over to kiss the globes of her luscious ass.

She moaned. Johnnie spread her legs apart and tugged her ass into the air, her clit brushing his nose. He covered her pussy with his mouth and wiggled the tip of his tongue against her, lapping her delicious cream, nipping her tender folds. Gobbling her cunt until she screamed and begged him to stop. Leaving her exposed and vulnerable, he buried himself inside her, bracing his weight on one arm when he leaned forward.

“I’ve just worshipped every inch of your body with my tongue, Kendall,” he said huskily. “Because I think you’re gorgeous and worthy to be up on a pedestal.” He stroked in and out her, his movements slow and gentle. “I can’t make you believe me, sweetheart. Only you can do that. Only you can be strong enough to conquer the demons haunting you.” He traced the shell of her ear with his lips, his cock working into her at a subdued pace. He caressed her back, felt her shudders. “That’s it, gorgeous, let it go,” he crooned. “Come for me.”

She groaned and shook, quietly sobbing his name when he flicked his finger over her clit to prolong her orgasm. When she was completely spent, he withdrew from her and released onto her back.

Wondering if he’d convinced her to trust him with the sex she’d demanded, when, so far, nothing else he’d tried had worked.

Chapter 21

Fists pounded against Kendall’s head and she moaned, twisting to escape the pain. Movement only made it worse. She raised her arms to shield the blows, bracing herself for hits to that part of her body. Only, none came, while the excruciating licks continued to pound her skull.

She grimaced and licked her dry lips. Her tongue felt like pickled cotton. Eww. The very thought made her stomach churn. How the hell did pickled cotton taste, anyway? Like this. Like she’d bathed her mouth in a vat of alcohol until it softened to mush.

Pain punched her again and she cried out. “Stop! Please,” she wailed.

No one answered. She wasn’t even sure of her location. She knew she was in a bed and she knew she was suffering an assault.

“Aww, so she awakens,” Johnnie offered with frustrating mystery.

“Why are you here?”

He sighed. “I think I liked you better last night, gorgeous.”

She attempted to lift her head and narrow her eyes at him, but fell against his pillows, limp with her pounding head and nauseated belly. “Go to hell.”

A chuckle. Kendall gritted her teeth.

“No, thank you. I don’t care to join your party.”

“Fuck off,” she amended with a growl.

Deeper laughter, closer this time. The bed dipped and she groaned. He gathered her into his arms. For all his gentleness, her pain and misery increased. He was fully dressed. She was completely naked.

“I didn’t invite you into my bedroom,” she pointed out.

“Good to know, since I’ve never been to your house, Kendall. As I recall, you’ve been sleeping in my guestroom, which, in essence belongs to me.”

“And gives you the right to swagger in whenever you want to.”

“Not at all. Every time I’ve gone into
my
guestroom, I’ve knocked. Last night was no different.”

“Then why—“

“Because you aren’t in the guestroom. You’re in my bedroom.”

She was where? Suddenly, she realized the pain in her head wasn’t from external blows. The pain came from evil little trolls taking up space inside her brain and pounding her with wretched meat cleavers. She moaned again and rolled away from him, curling into a fetal position. “Go away. Gloat later about how you took advantage of me in my drunken state since that’s the only way I’d ever let you touch me again, you conceited asshole.”

“I need to keep you drowning in Stoli so I can see your vulnerable side.” He sat up and his shoes hit the hardwood floor in a hard thump. “Hear all your dirty little secrets. You thinking of an abortion, for instance.”

She went completely still at his unconcerned announcement and she swallowed.

“What do you care if I have an abortion or not?” she spat.

“Kendall, I swear you’re the most self-destructive bitch I’ve ever met,” he growled. “I’m leaving. I’m not sure if I’ll return today or not,” he interrupted. “My liquor is locked away, so there’ll be no repeat of yesterday.”

She started to raise her head to glare at him, but dizziness swamped her and she fell back onto the pillow. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re nothing to me. Just an unfeeling, condescending jerk, stealing sex from me when I couldn’t defend myself.”

Silence slipped between them. It was uncomfortable and brutal, and Kendall wished Johnnie would leave, so she could lick her wounds.

“I’m not some freak show to stare at,” she snarled, her back to him, the weight of his regard pressing into her and almost stealing her breath.

“You’re completely right about me, Kendall,” he said in a hard voice. “While you were drunk out of your head, I took advantage of you. I made you suck my dick. I fucked you senseless and I ate your cunt.”

The words turned Kendall’s stomach even more than the vat of alcohol still simmering in her belly. He stared at her a second more, then stalked away and, a moment later, she heard the door slam closed.

Kendall swallowed and her heart sank to her toes. He’d mentioned the abortion, but he’d never told her not to get it. She rubbed her head, unable to remember if she’d told him he’d fathered her baby.

On cue, nausea sent her rushing from bed. She stumbled toward the door, just remembering she was in Johnnie’s bedroom. Unfortunately, the small change delayed her and she threw up all over herself and the floor.

How had the earth gotten populated? This little thing inside of her kept her sick and eating.

She’d just started with morning sickness, and she was already fed up. Her latest throw-up reeked of sour alcohol. Rancid, disgusting, and gross.

She stared at the mess, reminding herself that she had no one who’d pay the exorbitant amount of money it would take to help her if she started forcing her food up again. She knew she had an illness, self-inflicted, but still a sickness. She knew she did it because it was the one, sure thing she could control. She did it because her body was the one thing that kept men in her life, fawning over her, and friends who paid attention to her. As long as she had control of her body and her weight, she knew she had acceptance.

Her hand pressed against her belly and she hurried to clean up the vomit. As soon as she finished, she’d jump in the shower and then go back to sleep. Forget everything, especially the way Johnnie walked out. If he really considered her baby important, he wouldn’t have left.

Ten minutes later, she’d gotten the floor cleaned up. Feeling sticky and gross, she headed to the shower. The warm water made her even droopier and she knew the alcohol wasn’t helping her fatigue. Washing her hair, then cleaning herself, she didn’t want to think about the ramifications to her baby from all the alcohol she’d drank.

But she wasn’t keeping it, so what did it matter?

Shunning the thought, she completed her shower, then dried herself and braided her hair. The moment she finished grooming herself, a banging started on the front door. Lost in her dilemmas, Kendall reacted as if she were at her own house and rushed to answer.

And promptly had a gun shoved in her face.
   

Unable to focus with thought of Kendall so miserable, Johnnie u-turned twenty minutes into his trip to Hortensia.

Fuck. Johnnie turned down the private access road leading to his house. Halting his Navigator in his driveway, he frowned at the old black car already sitting there. Not only that, his front door was wide open. A loud explosion rocked the ground beneath his feet. For a moment, he thought an earthquake was hitting. Then, he heard another explosion and another.

B
ombs
were going off. Dust and debris were floating on the wind, but his front door was still open. His house was still standing.

Grabbing his .38, he sprinted out of the SUV and headed for his entryway.

“Where the fuck is he?” he heard when he stepped inside.

“I-I don’t know,” Kendall cried, her voice trembling.

Johnnie crept into the living room in time to see an overgrown asshole, in a Torpedo’s cut, backhand Kendall and knock her to the ground. Without hesitation, he opened fire, emptying his gun into the man’s head, watching in satisfaction as his head was blown to bits.

“I’m right here, motherfucker,” he snarled, deciding to answer the dead ass’ question and kicking his body on his way to a screaming Kendall.

“You…you killed him!” she cried.

“Get up, Kendall. We have to get the fuck out of here. There are others. They just blew up my cousin’s house.” That was the only explanation Johnnie could think of for those explosions. That meant the others would be coming here. When Kendall didn’t comply, just continued to accuse him of killing the man, Johnnie cursed and hurried to his bedroom. He reloaded his .38, stuck his blade in his suit pocket and pulled his G20C from under his pillow.

Heavy footsteps told him their company had arrived and he ran out of his bedroom, shooting a bastard in the process of raising his arm to do away with him. He skidded to a halt when he saw another man dragging Kendall to her feet, a knife to her throat. Gripping his own blade—he was going to gut this bastard—he opened fire, smiling when the man dropped like a stone.

“Behind you!” Kendall screamed, as white as a ghost.

Not thinking, just acting, Johnnie spun, simultaneously firing his gun and throwing his blade. The knife hit the other man’s neck, the bullet blowing away his face.

Johnnie pulled his knife from the dead man’s neck, wiped the blade on his black suit pants, and released a vicious curse when he heard the pop, pop, pop of more gunfire outside. Crouching down, he got to the front door. Two assholes were shooting up his beloved Navigator. If that had been his Harley, he would’ve hogtied them
before
he killed them. Instead, he took aim, hit first one and then the other in the head, glad Big Joe had insisted they keep up their skills with target practice. It was a rule Christopher still followed.

Counting to sixty, Johnnie realized he’d gotten them all. But he heard the sirens in the distance. He had to get out of there, get the guns out. To do that, he needed Kendall’s cooperation. She was still screaming like a banshee.