The Hookup (Moonlight and Motor Oil #1)(78)

“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 whispered.

“Sp?tzchen,” 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.

“Johnny—”

“Go to sleep, sp?tzchen.”

“Can you sleep like this?” I asked.

“Can you?” he asked back.

“Yes,” I gave him the truth.

“Then yes.”

I relaxed into him.

I felt something hit the bed and I looked through the dark as that something became a furry something curled against Johnny’s arm.

“Jill,” I muttered. “She’s used to your scent so she’s getting friendly.”

“She’s gonna get more used to it.”

Thank you, God.

I smiled into his neck.

Jill started purring.

Johnny held me.

I fell asleep.



Johnny

After mucking out the stalls Saturday morning, pulling off his work gloves and shoving them in the back pocket of his jeans, Johnny went to the little sink in the front corner of the tack room he’d seen when he’d disposed of the condom he’d used when he’d done Iz in the stables.

When he finished washing his hands, he turned toward the door and his eyes caught on the four pictures on the back wall that he’d noted the last time he was there, but it hadn’t been the time to get a good look at them.

He moved that way and stared at the two photos to the right of the window.

Standing there, he got his first look at Izzy’s mother.

And that first look rocked him straight to his boots.

If he didn’t know the story, he’d have no idea the life she’d led from her face, her demeanor, the bright smile she aimed at the camera in the top photo where she was striking a pose, head thrown back, body in an arc, one leg kicked up behind her. Her arms were around an adorable little-girl Izzy who was standing straight and holding tight to her momma’s middle, dazzling the camera with her smile.