Page 22 of Reconciling the Consequences

The drive home was tense—Johnny gripped the wheel and ground his molars. She saw the muscle in his jaw clenching the whole way. She tried to ignore it, tried to ignore him, but she was hyperaware of him in the cab of the truck.

When he pulled into the driveway, neither one of them moved. “Do you really not trust me, or are you afraid that I’ll hurt you?” Johnny asked, turning to face her.

“Afraid,” she answered, meekly, unable to meet his gaze. She had a lifetime of being let down by the ones closest to her that only added to her mountain of insecurities.

He nodded deliberately. “I could say the same thing.” He spoke softly.

“I know.” Her voice was hoarse as she nodded and closed her eyes. She knew he could—she had hurt him too, had walked away from him first.

She heard his seat belt disengage before he opened the driver’s side door. She watched him climb out of the truck and close the door behind him. He rounded the front of the truck and headed for her side.

She waited, frozen in her seat, for him. He opened her door and stood at eye level in front of her in the tall truck. He took off his sunglasses and tossed them on the dashboard before he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled her face close to his.

His baby blues were shining with emotion as they met hers.

She gasped as she got a glimpse of a rawness she doubted anyone had seen from him.

“Alright, Princess,” he started, his voice raspy, “me and you are like oil and water sometimes.”

She smiled weakly through her watery gaze.

“I’m sorry I left you that night. I’m sorry you were alone in the hospital. I’m sorry that I’m still learning this relationship shit and can’t get my head on straight when it comes to you—I don’t know which way is up or down half the time when you’re around. I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly.

Her tears fell freely as she listened to him spill his thoughts.

His own tears lined his eyes, and he didn’t blink them back as he watched her warily. “We can fight and bicker all we like,” he continued, his voice husky, “but at the end of the day, we need to be able to trust each other. We’re deep into some shit here. Your dad tried to fucking kill you just to keep my dad behind bars.”

She hung her head, unable to meet his gaze.

He rubbed his thumb against her cheek, and his other hand came up to cup her face, both wiping away tears. He gently lifted her face to meet his gaze. “If we can’t trust each other, then we’re fucked.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips—he has a way with words.

“There’s no point in us going any further if we can’t trust each other,” he continued, his own tears falling. “So tell me, Kara,” he paused, brushing his thumb over her lips as both of his hands cradled her face, “what is your plan? Because I can tell you that I haveneverin my life felt this way about a woman before, nor have I ever moved one into my house before you.”

Kara’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her lips parted slightly as a blush warmed her cheeks. “I’m staying,” she replied almost immediately. “I’m taking down my father and getting yours out of jail. And after, when all of this is over… you’ll have to pack my shit yourself if you want me to leave, because I’m staying.”

His lips crashed onto hers as one hand slid to the back of her head. He held her to him as their kiss turned more passionate. She closed her eyes wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and leaned into him.

He pulled away quickly, though. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry I left you for the ambulance, and I’m sorry I didn’t come to the hospital. I was stupi—”

She cut him off with another kiss.

“Fuck, baby.” He panted when they broke apart breathless a while later. “Let’s get you inside. You need to lie down.”

“Johnny.” She gasped. “I need you to fuck me.”

“Fucking hell, Princess.” He groaned against her mouth.

KaragiggledsoftlyasJohnny carried her in the back door of his house and set her on the kitchen counter. He didn’t wait, he just pulled down her yoga pants and undies in one smooth tug and dropped them to the floor.

He devoured her mouth while he made quick work of his belt and jeans. She kept her hands on his shoulders while he took charge. She fucking loved when he was like this, fucking loved that he was finally giving in and fucking her.

He barely ran his finger over her seam—checking her arousal—before he lined himself up and slid home. “Fuck.” He grunted.

She gasped and threw her head back, panting.

He snapped his hips against hers, his hands on her waist, holding her tight. She held on as he fucked her hard. “Johnny.” She panted, the beginning of her orgasm coiling in her gut.

---