Page 7 of Jonny’s Redemption

She didn’t turn and run like she should’ve. No, not Bobby. She stood her ground like a temptress issuing a dare.

“Bobby,” Jonny growled in warning.

“All talk,” she muttered and shook her head.

Fuck it.

What the hell are you waiting for, asshole? She’s standing right there, everything you ever wanted. Take her, idiot.

4

I shouldn’t have awakened the beast but I was done with the stupid dance. The game we’d been playing. If it took a bout of rough, hot sex to break through, so be it. It wasn’t like that wasn’t what I wanted. And his threat that we wouldn’t make it to a bed? Hot.

Jonny Spencer could take me anyplace, anytime, and I’d be happy.

I should’ve been happy because the man had finally snapped. He was stalking toward me with a wild glint in his icy eyes. But fear crept in. For all the teasing I’d shoveled Charleigh’s way about her being a born-again-virgin, I was no better. Thankfully, no one had ever questioned my lack of male company or bothered to turn the tables and ask me how long it had been.

It was a little sad and a whole lot pathetic my dry spell beat Charleigh’s eight-year run. Pretty damn sad for a healthy woman in her thirties. But working in the music industry, even a lowly assistant to fabulous Vivi Rush, was a libido killer once I’d learned why men propositioned me.

Which brought me to why I was quaking in my flip-flops. Jonny looked like he was ready to pounce and I didn’t have the first clue what to do with him. Well, I had a clue, I just didn’t have the skills to carry out all the crazy fantasies I conjured up. Alone in my dark bedroom, I could pretend I was good enough for Jonny, talented and sexy. But in the light of day faced with the reality of the beast, I wasn’t so sure.

“You should run,” he warned.

“I’m not gonna run.”

I was nothing if not stubborn.

Jonny didn’t halt his progress when he made it to me. He didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath when his arms wrapped around me, and his hands landed on my butt before he lifted me off my feet. Running on nothing more than instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist. I locked my ankles, and my flip-flops fell off my feet.

He shoved his face in my neck and inhaled. “Peaches.”

I didn’t tell him it was my lotion. I didn’t need to. I was obsessed with hand lotion; he had to have seen me applying it hundreds of times since I’d met him. But I couldn’t deny the tingle of satisfaction that ghosted up my spine at the reverence in his voice.

Jonny had the screen door open and he walked through without lifting his head. He made a sharp right and the next thing I knew my bare feet were on tile and Jonny was working the button of my shorts. Then they were pooled around my ankles and I heard Jonny’s swift intake of oxygen. I hadn’t adjusted to my new circumstances when Jonny went to his knees in front of me. One hand gripped my ass, the other lifted my shirt, exposing a few inches of skin. The top of his brown hair was all I could see but I didn’t need sight, not when I could feel his lips on my stomach. Feather-light, he brushed them from one hip to the other. Slow, so slow my body hummed for more.

“Jonny,” I whispered and his head tipped back.

Our gazes locked and while his eyes were no less wild, the desire I saw cemented every feeling I’d had for Jonny. I was not mixing up sex and love. This wasn’t about love, not really. It was about Jonny wanting me—just me. Not Vivi Rush’s assistant. Not because I could get him backstage passes, an autograph, hook him up with a meeting with a label exec. Not the scummy girl from the holler who everyone thought was loose because it was a given a Layne girl would put out. Not because he thought being nice to me would get me to sneak him a bottle from my daddy’s still.

The desire I saw was for me.

And I loved he wanted me.

“You should’ve run, baby,” he said.

I lost his eyes when he dipped his chin but it was arguable which was better—looking into his blue eyes full of lust or feeling his tongue as it grazed the skin just above my panties. It was a toss-up—one I’d never have the answer to because there was no right answer. Both were fantastic.

“I’m not running.”

“No, Bobby, you’re not. I gave you a chance. You stayed, now you’re mine.”

I didn’t ask what he meant by mine. Not because I wasn’t curious; I was. But when his fingers hooked the delicate lace at my hips, pulling the fabric until it started to rip, my breath caught in my throat.

Was he going to…yep, he was. The black lace fell away leaving me bare and Jonny didn’t delay. One of his hands pushed me backward and my back hit the wall. He dipped his head at the same time he hooked my thigh, and the next thing I knew my leg was over his shoulder and his mouth was on me.

“Jonny,” I breathed as his tongue speared my pussy.

And that was the last thing I said.