Page 27 of Arm Candy Warrior

Johnny licks his lips. His pale blue eyes darken like a sudden storm surge. He grips my upper arm, practically dragging me past the two members of security, and we enter his suite with a flurry and a slammed door.

I slap his hand away from me. I know now. Johnny is better than this monster he turns into when he’s pissed. He’s better than this life. He has real feelings. He just needs to listen to them. He needs to trust other people who aren’t his father and have nothing to do with this life. “Don’t touch me if you’re going to touch me like that,” I fume. “You either touch me like I’m your girlfriend, or you don’t at all.” Johnny’s eyes flare, but I don’t stop there. “You go from telling me I’m beautiful one minute to scolding me the next. You trust me with shit, and then you shut me out.” I swallow, watching Johnny’s fists ball. He doesn’t scare me, but this talk does. “You hold me in bed like you don’t want to let me go, then dig your nails into my arm like a caveman, making sure I do your bidding. Which guy are you, Johnny? Can we talk calmly, rationally? Or do I have to worry every time you get upset you’re going to be…” I gesture toward him. “…this guy.”

His jaw hardens. He stretches his fingers out like he’s trying to ward off some of the tension. Or gathering it back up. It’s hard to tell with him.

“You make me this way,” he growls.

I shake my head. “Sounds like something an abuser would say. It’s my fault, right? It’s my—”

Johnny moves so fast, I flinch. I wait for the crack of his hand upside my head or another bite of his nails into my skin, squeezing me like he has before. None of that comes. Instead, his fingertips graze my cheek. “It’s you because I’ve never felt this way,” he says on a breath. “I’ve never wanted to keep someone safe before. From me. My life. My past. I didn’t know how hard it was going to be. How terrified I’d feel every second of the day when you’re not here,right herewhere I can keep you safe.”

My eyelids flutter open. The guy staring at me now wrenches my heart from me, making it pump for him despite all my attempts otherwise. “There you are,” I whisper, recognizing the guy I know is in there. He may be deeply hidden most of the time, but he’s there.

Johnny closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about my mom, but that’s not your fault. I don’t know how I’m going to keep you safe when I’m not around, but that’s not your fault either. I don’t know what to do with all these emotions, but again…” He slides his hands down over my shoulders and squeezes. “That’s not your fault.”

Our mirrored gazes draw us to one another. Recognizing that the same fucked up shit that’s in me is also in someone else is a silent call. I want to see what happens when we come together. It could be oh so perfect or burn entire cities to the ground. There is no middle ground with Johnny and me.

At this point, I don’t care. I’m sick of that voice in my head saying this isn’t a good idea. I’m sick of always second-guessing why these feelings come up when I’m around him. I should tell him he’s got to fucking stop giving me whiplash. Should make sure he knows he can’t touch me like that anymore, but instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and seal my lips to his. This kiss is scorching hot from the first moment. I meld into him as he moves his hands to my hips, pulling me closer. We devour each other, the tangle of our tongues and press of our lips ending in small sighs and moans captured by yet more kissing.

Liquid heat slithers straight to my core until I’m throbbing with need. I press against him, the tight ass dress shimmying up my thighs. The fabric comes to rest on the curve of my ass while Johnny roams his hands freely over my newly exposed skin, pulling me tighter against him like he can’t get enough.

I’m salivating for him. My panties soak through. In one second, my breath gets knocked right out of me, while in the next, I drag in a whole lungful to sustain me. I rest my hands on his chest and then roam upward, taking his suit coat with me until it’s over his shoulders, down his forearms, and drops to the floor. He’s not wearing a tie, so I pull his button-down shirt out of his pants before resting my buzzing fingers at his fly. Brushing my fingers against his tight skin seals my decision. I unzip and unbutton his suit pants until they’re resting low on his hips.

He breaks the kiss, gaze searching mine. Dropping his hands to my shoulders, he moves the spaghetti straps of my dress down until the top pools outward giving him an ample view. Even my lungfuls of air don’t help. The dress tightens over my breasts with each breath, then slips lower when I release it.

Lowering his gaze, he focuses on my chest and each minute movement. “I’ve been wanting to see these,” he purrs, the top finally dipping past my nipples. If he was thrumming with energy before, he’s high off it now. He dips his head, flicking his tongue over my left nipple.

I moan and hike my leg up like I want to climb him. My dress rips, slowly giving way until my leg is securely around his hip. Johnny’s mouth quirks, but then he pulls my leg higher, ripping the dress even further as he lifts me into the air. I cross my ankles over his ass as he takes another mouthful of my breasts now that they’re in his face. He doesn’t mind. He feasts on them like they’re his last meal. I drop my head back, reveling in the sensations he ignites in me while begging him to drop me lower so I can seek the hardness I need.

“I’ve been jerking off every fucking day to you,” Johnny growls. He nips at my nipple, and I shudder.

He backs up and turns before slowly lowering me to the couch. I arch into him, drawing his head back to my breast. He quickly flicks his tongue across my nipple several times until I grind against him. His stupid pants are in my way, so I use my feet to push them lower. When I can’t quite get the grip on them I need, I use my hands, pushing them down, before grabbing his ass and forcing him to my core.

“Fuck me,” Johnny shivers. He presses down until we’re fucking grinding like we’re actually having sex, except we’re not. I cup Johnny through his boxers, and he jerks. “Fuuuck.”

He’s bigger than a handful. Much bigger. Hard. Straining. I slip my hands under the waistband of his boxers and run my palm down his hard ridges. Pre-cum brushes over my wrist. He pushes into my grip, then slides back, his hot mouth encasing my breast again.

Leaning on one hand for support, he reaches up to pull my dress out of the way and move my panties down. I kick them off once they’re past my knees, and Johnny and I lock gazes. I run my fingers along the top of his boxers and then slide them over his hips, finally freeing his dick. I stroke him toward me. He’s so close, I can almost feel him. I lift my hips, searching for him. The silky skin of his head brushes over my entrance, and I lose all thought. My fingers sink into the skin of his ass, pulling him toward me like a crazed druggie looking for her next fix.

Johnny pulls back. I’m so shocked that I peek up at him. His whole demeanor has changed. The air in the room shifting already, going fromfuck me nowtoI need a breather. “Johnny, don’t stop.”

He drops his head to my chest. His hot breath coats my already wet nipples.

“We can’t,” he breathes out.

Frustration rears its ugly head, but I try to think clearly. I place my palms on his cheeks and make him look at me. “I want you,” I say. “I’m with you. Not your dad or the Crew or some stupid rule.” I lick my swollen lips. Surely, he can’t want to stop now. He was just eating me up. “I want you inside me. I’m dying for it.”

He slides his palm down his length, angling his head toward my entrance. He presses into my clit, and I gasp. He circles the head of his cock there until my core clenches. I grip his ass again, waiting until the teasing relents and he pushes inside, but instead, he sighs. This time, his expel of air is angrier. “Fuck.” He releases his dick and swirls his thumb over my clit, making rapid circles.

I blink at him. Don’t get me wrong, it feels fucking amazing, but he’s not going to fuck me, and I’m—I’m…Christ, I don’t know. “Johnny?”

“I’m going to make you come.” His brow pulls together as he focuses on my clit. He flicks his tongue over my nipple again, but it doesn’t have the same effect. I push his hand out of the way and try to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, trying to pull my dress back up so my tits aren’t in his face. I press my knees together and attempt to squirm my way out from underneath him.

The throb between my legs tells me my body hates me right now, but Big Daddy K is not going to rule my bedroom. I’m drawing the fucking line there.

---