Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
I gasped, my back bowing off the bed, my eyes practically rolling to the back of my head when the first wave sucked me under. Johnston covered my mouth with his, kissing me savagely, not allowing me to breathe. I whimpered, my hands coming up to claw at the back of his neck, needing air but at the same time, not wanting it ever again because the sensations rolling through my body were out of this fucking world.
Ripping his mouth from mine, both of our chests heaving, he rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him. I panted, watching as he fished a condom out of the drawer, and impatiently, I snatched it from his hand, ripping open the packet before rolling it down his thick shaft.
“Ride me,” he growled, his dark eyes narrowed on my face. “Fuck me, Red.”
I gripped his cock and eased myself down on him. And then, just like he asked me to, I began to ride him.
I shrieked when Johnston’s door burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. I jerked into a sitting position at the same time Johnston lurched out of bed, a gun in his hand, trained on his wife. I swallowed thickly, my heart pounding with fear. Somehow, with shaky hands, I managed to pull the blanket over my breasts, hiding my body from her view.
“What the fuck, Johnston?” she yelled at him. She waved her phone at him. “You apparently dialed me by accident last night, and I got to listen to you and this fucking whore go at it on the fucking voicemail!” She glared at me. “You—get the fuck out!” she screeched.
I moved to get up, not wanting to deal with this shit, but Johnston pointed a finger at me, pinning me in place with a single, dark look.
“Don’t you move from that fucking bed, Aaliyah,” Johnston growled, setting his gun down. He snatched his jeans off the floor and pulled them up, not seeming bothered by her finding out about us in the slightest. He just looked highly pissed off.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to get out of bed, because then his fucking wife would see me naked, and I sure as hell wasn’t slim and perfect like she was. But I didn’t want to stay in this damn room either, in this hostile environment. There was a look in his wife’s eyes that told me she wasn’t all there, and it was a little terrifying to be faced with someone you couldn’t one hundred percent predict.
“No! She doesn’t—”
“Shut the fuck up, Wendy!” he roared at her. I flinched back from the scene, my heart racing in my chest. I’d probably piss my pants if I was ever on the receiving end of his rage like that, but she was standing there like he was merely a troublesome bug. Did she not have an ounce of fucking sanity?
“What the fuck are you doing here? I don’t give a fuck about the voicemail either, Wendy!” he barked when she opened her mouth. He snatched the phone from her hand and threw it against the wall, shattering the screen. I flinched. She was fucking fuming. “I fucking told you this goddamn clubhouse was off-fucking-limits for you,” he snarled at her.
Well, made sense why none of us had ever seen her around here. Why had he banned her?
He gripped her arm and jerked her around, marching her out of the room. She stumbled, but he didn’t give a fuck. I was pretty sure he would’ve dragged her out if he had to. The door closed behind them with a slam, and I flinched again.
What the fuck had I gotten myself into?
I’d known Johnston was married, but his wife never came around here. I thought I would’ve been okay. But fuck, she’d chosen today to come, all because he dialed her and left a voicemail, even if it was just an accident.
Had he used me to get back at her for something?
An ache spread through my chest, and tears burned in my eyes. Why did it hurt so much that he might have just been using me to get a rise out of her? To get back at her?
Why did I always choose the men that were douchebags?
I slipped from the bed and quickly got dressed again before opening the door. After making sure the coast was clear, not wanting anyone to see my walk of shame, I slipped from Johnston’s room and darted into mine, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor.
I locked my door, not wanting to be bothered by Johnston, his wife, or any other member of the club, before stripping out of my clothes and heading to my connected bathroom, just needing a shower. My entire body was sore, a reminder of how thoroughly Johnston had fucked me the night before and how well he’d let me ride him this morning. But after that episode in his room, I didn’t want to remember anymore.