The Hookup (Moonlight and Motor Oil #1)(93)

“Now I’m meant to believe that?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes!” she snapped again.

“How?” he pressed.

“Because I’m falling for you!”

Johnny went still.

Izzy did not.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m not stupid. I’m not going to mess that up by being upset about something and letting it fester and get twisted before I talk to you about it. I mean . . . yeesh.”

Yeesh?

He had no time to get into the utter adorableness of “yeesh.”

He shifted toward her, turning to his side, sliding down, hooking an arm around her waist and hauling her up against him.

Then he kissed her.

At first, he rolled on his back, pulling her on top of him, wanting her weight on him, wanting her anchoring him to his bed.

Then she whimpered in his mouth in that way he always felt in his dick and he rolled them again, Johnny on top of her, giving her as much of his weight as he thought she could take, pressing her into the bed like she could make a dent in it that would never go away.

The kiss started deep and wild and it kept going in that direction as they tore at each other’s clothes, devoured each other’s flesh any way they could get at it.

By the time he got his mouth between her legs, she was so wet and Johnny was just as ready for her, all he could do was suck her clit hard before surging over her, hand to his cock, guiding the way, finding her and sliding right in.

“Johnny,” she breathed when she was full of him.

He thrust, staring at this Izzy, his wild one, his sex kitten, the pink in her cheeks, the haze in her eyes, the swelling in her lips.

She lifted her arms above her head, cocked her knees and let her legs fall wide to the side . . .

Fuck.

His.

Open for him. Her hips undulating to meet his thrusts. Her body jolting when she took them. Her hair spread all over his bed. Her body his to do anything he wanted.

She trusted him that completely.

And no one else.

She’d never given that to anyone else.

But he had that from the beginning.

He made a noise that he made only for her and pulled out, shifted aside, whipped her to her belly and moved right back in. Hitching one leg, forcing hers up with it, gliding his hands up the outsides of her arms, keeping them straight above her head, wrapping his fingers around her forearms, watching her, one cheek pressed to his comforter, swollen lips parted, breaths coming fast, face flushed, he drove back in, pounding her into his bed.

Connected to her.

Covering her.

Giving her what was in her face at the same time he was her shield against the shit of life, the blanket to keep her warm, the shelter to keep her safe.

That was his to know, to give, to share with her later when she wasn’t taking his cock.

But her head arched back, she pressed her temple tight to his jaw and whispered a trembling, “Johnny.”

And he knew she knew.

He knew he didn’t have to say a word.

But he did have to say something else.

He slid a hand down the soft skin of her arm, her side, over her waist and hip and then in.

He touched her clit, pressed, rolled, she gasped and he said, “I’m falling for you too,” in her ear.

She cried out, her pussy rippling tight around his cock, her body shuddering under his, her ass pressing hard to his groin. It was too much, too good, he couldn’t ride her through her orgasm so he shoved his face in her neck, drove deep and shot inside his Izzy, groaning against her skin.

When he came out of where Izzy took him and back into the room, he pushed his face harder into her neck and kept her leg hitched as he fucked her gentle, deliberate, memorizing every inch of her inside, over and over slipping his cock out of her silky wet until she only had the tip and then sinking it slowly back in.

He felt her breath in his hair, the ease of her soft body under his. He slid his hand from between her legs and up to cup her breast.

He heard her hand glide over the comforter and press in to cover his.

Finally, Johnny buried himself inside her and stayed there, tracing the line of her neck with his lips.

Her body twitched and her head moved to the side like she wanted to squeeze him out.

He started to pull away but she said softly, but urgently, “Don’t. It just tickles. Your beard. But I like it.”

He retraced his line at her neck.

She shivered under him.

And it was then he knew.

This was it.

This was all he was ever going to have.

Izzy.

Her body. Her pussy. Her hair. Her neck. Her breasts. Her scent. Her taste.

Her belly would swell with the babies he’d plant there.

Her skin would wrinkle.

Her hair would gray.

He would mourn her when she was gone and there wouldn’t be another for him.

Or he would leave this earth knowing she’d do the same.

That was it.

The rest of his life.

Simple.

And unbelievably fucking beautiful.

He’d finished taking the plunge and it ended up being him doing it fucking Izzy wild in his bed.

But he thought that was fitting considering that was how it started.

He nipped her earlobe, kissed it and asked quietly there, “You wanna clean up?”