Page 64 of Jonny’s Redemption

“Jonny,” Bobby gasped and her pussy convulsed, stripping away the last of his control.

His mind blanked as sensation took over. His cock, her pussy greedily demanding his come, the sounds they made, the smell of peaches and vanilla, the feel of his heart pounding, the bright flashes of light behind his eyelids. He felt Bobby everywhere. Felt her on a cellular level. She was embedded in his soul, written on his heart, she flowed through his veins, and blanketed his skin. She was his peace, his calm, his quiet, just plain his.

When the last of his orgasm drifted away his eyes opened and immediately he found Bobby studying him.

“That was hot,” she whispered.

It was always hot when Bobby was under him. But he didn’t say that. Instead, his gaze remained focused on her pretty face, marveling in the miracle that was his woman. So tough, so sweet, so funny, so damn smart.

There was a loud bang on the front door—not a knock; someone was pounding. Jonny’s eyes went to the clock and his body tensed. It was a Monday morning and had not hit seven a.m. yet. Not good. But really not fucking good when he hadn’t even pulled out of his woman. So Jonny did that, then rolled out of bed and tagged a pair of jeans off the floor.

He pulled them on commando and did it while bossing Bobby.

“Up, baby. Get your clothes and take them into the bathroom. Lock the door and don’t come out until I say.”

Bobby quickly did as he instructed and through that, the banging had stopped only to recommence—this time louder. On Jonny’s way out of the bedroom, he grabbed his gun off his nightstand, on his way through the living room he racked the slide, loading one in the chamber. What he didn’t do was check his patience. None of the guys would show up at his house before work and pound on his door like the world had come to an end. They’d call. And Jonny didn’t think someone coming around to sell Girl Scout cookies would do so first thing in the morning and have such a heavy hand. Therefore whoever was on the other side of his front door was gonna piss him off.

He knew this, yet he was still unprepared for how supremely pissed he was going to be when he swung open the door and found Dick Dillinger standing there.

“What the fuck?” Jonny seethed. “Step off my porch.”

“Stay out of my business,” Dick returned.

Jonny supposed Dick’s tone was meant to be intimidating, maybe even serve to scare him. It did neither. What it did do was piss Jonny way the fuck off.

“Not gonna tell you again, get the fuck off my porch, get in your truck, and get off my property.”

“Or what, Jonny? You gonna shoot me for knocking on your door?”

“No, I’m gonna shoot you because you’re a piece of shit. Because I’d bet you’re carrying even though you don’t have a permit, and right now I’m feeling threatened. Actually, I’m in fear of my life, you’re trespassing, not doing as I’ve asked which is to vacate the premises so I’m taking that as a threat, too. So I’m well within my rights as the homeowner to protect myself, my property, and my home.”

“Right. We both know you’re not gonna shoot me and I’ll leave as soon as you tell me you’re gonna stay out of my business.”

“Why would I do that, Dick?”

“Anderson left his wife and doesn’t want to be found. And that’s where you’re gonna leave it.”

Jonny tightened his hand around the grip of his handgun until the dimpling in the polymer dug into his palm. Good God, he wanted to shoot Dick for a variety of reasons, the biggest being he’d been a dirty cop, he’d desecrated the oath he’d taken to serve and protect, he’d terrorized good people, he’d helped put an innocent man behind bars, and now Dick Dillinger had the audacity to stand on Jonny’s porch and tell him to stand down.

The man had balls, however, they weren’t as big as he thought they were.

“And Anderson’s your business? The business you want me to stay out of?” Jonny asked.

“I saw you casing my house,” Dick stupidly accused.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t trying to hide my presence.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to get involved in this.”

“Trust you?” Jonny snarled. “I have not nor would I ever fuckin’ trust you. But since I’ve never been a dirty fuckin’ cop you can trust me when I tell you, I’m gonna be so far in your shit you won’t sneeze without me knowing it. I’m gonna find out what happened to Anderson and I don’t care how long it takes.”

“No, you won’t. Not if you care what happens to Candy.”

Jonny froze and his eyes narrowed on the slimy fuck in front of him.

“You’re a piece of shit.”

“Not if you care what happens to your girlfriend.”