Page 85 of The Deviation
His eyes flash at my use of the words he said to me on our first night together. When our hope was brought low and our craving for each other seemed all we had left.
I sit up then, my knees bracketing his hips, and pluck the small sachet from his fingers. Tearing it open, I drizzle the liquid onto my palms and fingers, getting everything nice and slippery. I reach down to take hold of his erection, revelling in the heat and hardness of him. Then, perching on the edge of the heavy table, I lower my other hand between my cheeks.
“Johnny.” With a little manoeuvring, I manage to sink a single finger inside my hole, and a whimper slips from my throat. “Love of my life. Keeper of my heart.” I’m no lyricist, but I try for some sweetness before abandoning all control of my tongue. “I need you to fuck the living shit out of me.” The stretch of a second finger has my mouth falling open with a desperate whine. “Please, fill me.”
With a whispered curse, he’s on me. One hand pulls my head up so he can invade my mouth with his tongue. The other moves my fingers away from my slick hole so he can take over. His touch is rougher than mine, more insistent, more desperate. I welcome every second of it.
My back hits the table once more before arching wantonly. A smile I can’t shake stretches my mouth wide, and I allow my eyes to close as I concentrate on the sensations of Johnny wreaking carnal havoc on my naked body.
He grabs a thick cushion to shove under his knees before positioning the head of his cock at my entrance. I can’t help but wriggle my hips, seeking more of that delicious pressure. “Cal, babe,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna need you to hold still for a minute.”
I try to quit my writhing but he’s Right. Freaking. There. His weeping tip is pressed tight against me, and I want it so badly. “Need you.”
“I know.” His hands travel over me with long, languid strokes from my shoulders all the way down to my freshly hardened length. “I need you, too.” He bends to drop tender kisses to my chest, but then his flat stomach brushes my cock, and I buck against him. A quiet chuckle rises from low in his throat. “So eager,” he croons, laving a nipple. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you.”
Reaching out to grip the edge of the coffee table on either side of my head, he moves his hips, increasing the pressure on my greedy hole for a single, delicious moment and I keen softly. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Just like that.” On the next thrust, the head of his cock pops past the quivering ring of muscle and I cry out, desperate for more.
He settles into a rhythm then, working his way inside my body with slow, steady thrusts. Our breaths rush between us with harsh, heavy pants. My arms lock around his torso, my legs around his hips, as I try to force him deeper. Deeper, still.
By the time he bottoms out all control is lost. My throbbing cock is trapped between us. The hot, wet slide of our perspiring bodies provides enough friction to get me to the edge and hold me there. Then he slides his hand between us to take me in hand and there’s no holding back. My balls tighten as the oncoming tide of my orgasm rushes at me. It drowns out the broken declarations of love filling my ear. It overwhelms the slapping of bare flesh and the cries of impending completion.
The wave crests, taking me with it and my body clamps down as I come all over Johnny’s eager hand. He groans as his own release fills me with great, pulsating spasms.
By the time we come back to our senses, my mobile phone is ringing.
It’s not just any ring.
Flinching, I try to sit upright, struggling under the weight of Johnny’s still sluggish form. “That’s Genevieve.”
His eyes widen and then we’re both scrambling to find my phone in the mess we’ve created.
I manage to answer on the last ring before it goes to voice mail. “Good afternoon, Calum Ellis speaking,” I say, attempting to get some sort of control over my racing heart.
“Calum, dear, how are you doing?” The tinny sound of her voice tells me the call is on speaker. I have no doubt Arthur is listening in with bated breath.
“I’m excellent. Thank you for asking.” With a smirk, I grab my sweatpants and use them to cover the couch cushion so I can sit beside Johnny, allowing him to hear both ends of the conversation.
“That’s good news. Listen,” she continues without pause, “I feel things got a bit out of hand at our last meeting. Some less than savory ideas were put forward. Hasty decisions were made. Let’s have a do over.” I’ve never heard her so cheerful. “I want you to come back to work.”
The look Johnny gives me falls somewhere between shock and indignation, and I almost snort out a laugh.
“I’m sending you over a fresh contract now,” Genevieve continues. “I think you’ll be pleased by your new and improved package. All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and shoot it back to me within the hour.”
My eyebrows lift. “Why the hurry?” As if I don’t know she’s hoping I’m still clueless about the deal she made with the band. If I sign this new contract, that will be dead in the water.
“I have an entire company to run,” she says with a condescending laugh. “Things move fast in this industry. If you’re coming back to Rush, you’ll need to keep up.”
“Actually,” I say with a thoughtful tone, “I’ve decided to try doing some consulting work for the next few months.” Johnny smiles widely, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before getting up to wander down the nearby hallway towards my bedroom. “If you have any offers in line with that, I’ll be happy to consider them.” In the long pause that follows, I hear Johnny start the shower in my ensuite.
“You’ve spoken to your boyfriend then,” Genevieve says in a flat tone.
A grin covers my face as I look down. My stomach is still sticky and there’s a growing wet spot on the pants I’m sitting on. Thank god I covered the couch. “You could say that.”
Cutting all pretence, Genevieve assures me she’ll send the consulting contract by the middle of next week before abruptly ending the call.
Weak with relief, I make my way into the ensuite where Johnny is soaping up that hard body I can’t get enough of. “Is there room for one more?”
He opens the glass door. “Always.”