Page 9 of Jonny’s Redemption

It was unfortunate I was in the midst of blinding euphoria, gasping for air, shouting my release because I missed Jonny’s. I vaguely, in a distant, floaty kind of way heard him call out my name. I felt his body tense and shudder, but I couldn’t see his face through the shards of pleasure.

“Baby?”

Was he talking to me?

My head lulled to the side and I cracked my eyes open a sliver.

Icy blue filled my vision.

Eyes that were dancing with smug satisfaction.

“Shower or bed?”

“Don’t care,” I slurred.

“Bed,” he decided.

I kinda shrugged, maybe sort of, but when his smile split his face I figured I missed the mark and it probably looked like I twitched. I was the very definition of wet noodle when Jonny carried me through the house. My arms were hanging over his shoulders, my legs were limp, and my forehead rested below his chin. If it weren’t for his death grip on my bottom, I would’ve fallen to the floor.

Jonny gently laid me on the bed and sat on the edge. There was a tiny part of my brain that still worked, reminding me I was mostly naked while Jonny was fully clothed. With any other man, I would’ve been embarrassed. Actually, with any other man, I would’ve been horrified. But Jonny had just given me two of the best orgasms of my life. I was wrung out and sated and couldn’t find a reason to be uncomfortable.

“You okay?” he asked.

Was he insane?

Perhaps I’d heard him wrong.

“Did you just ask if I was okay?”

Jonny did a slow blink. He did that a lot when he thought I was acting dorky. I knew because I’d asked him once why he blinked and shook his head when I asked questions. He told me straight out it was because I was the only person who could shock him into silence. Since I was awkward more than I wasn’t, he blinked a lot. He also laughed at me, something I worked for. Sometimes I did and said stupid things just to see his eyelids slowly close as a smile tug at his lips.

“Yeah, I asked you if you were okay,” he confirmed and brushed my hair off my shoulder.

Once he had the hank tucked behind my ear, his fingertip trailed down to my neck and his hand stopped at my bra strap.

“Do I not look okay?”

And there it was—his deep, rumbling laugh. A gift that was no less perfect than the first time he gave it to me. Each time I heard it I paused to memorize the rusty sound, unsure how long it would be before he blessed me with another.

“I was rough.”

“And?”

“You banged your head pretty hard.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, baby, you did.”

I shrugged, and now that I wasn’t doing my best impersonation of a coma patient, I knew I actually lifted my shoulder in response.

“Oh, well, it doesn’t hurt.”

That might have been a lie. My brain still wasn’t firing on all cylinders. The haze of back-to-back orgasms hadn’t faded, thus I was still tingly. At that point, I could’ve had a fractured skull and I probably wouldn’t have known it.

“You always this cute after you’ve been fucked nearly unconscious?”

“First, you didn’t fuck me nearly unconscious. Second, don’t ruin my mellow by being an asshole.”