Page 86 of Johnathan

“Okay…”

“Okay.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Man of many words tonight.”

He stilled, pulling her to a stop.

“I’m barely hanging on here. You were hurt. I just… I just need to hold you tonight, baby. I need to feel you safe in my arms.”

She sighed, tugging him into the bedroom with her. She walked into the closet and pulled off her outfit, slipping into the shirt she’d been sleeping in for weeks. The one that he changed her into the night he saved her from her awful date. By the time she walked back into the bedroom, John was sitting down on the edge of the bed, stripped down to his white undershirt and his boxers.

Abby pressed her way between his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, holding her hand as she moved and finally crawled under her comforter.

“I should have known telling Jackson not to call you wouldn’t work.”

“I might have to put you over my knee once you’re healed for thinking of keeping something like this away from me.”

“Mm, that’s not as much of a punishment as you think it would be.”

“I’m not trying to punish you, baby.”

“John…”

“Sleep, Abby. I have to be up early to get Katy. So just let me hold you for a few hours while you sleep.”

Twenty-Five

Blood. Dripping down her neck. The blade flashed in the corner of her eye as dizziness made the room swim. A masked face charging her as her head slammed into the floor…

Abby threw herself off her pillows, her breaths rapid and painful as she tried to calm the urge to scream. That nightmare had felt so real, but now she wasn’t just facing Marco. And in a way, that was almost worse.

Her eyes bounced to John, who was still asleep next to her. Could she get dressed and out for a run without him noticing? Would he forgive her if she did?

No, she already knew he’d be furious if she did that. And she couldn’t blame him. Her head flopped back against her pillow as she tried to think of something, anything, to channel her restless energy into while she shut her brain off.

The book on her nightstand caught her attention.

She’d left off a few days before at a point where the sexual tension was about to boil over between the two main characters. Maybe she could just lay back down and let her mind be distracted by the story.

With her head turned towards John, Abby clicked on the lamp. She waited for him to wake, but he didn’t even roll over with the change in brightness.

The main character was being a brat, and Abby stifled a laugh as she thought about John wanting to put her over his knee. Shit. That thought had her legs clenching together, moving slowly under the sheets searching for some sort of relief.

She made it a page and a half further into the story before her hand found its way between her legs. The next sentence had her shutting her eyes as she imagined John’s tongue licking her like the main character was doing to his girl. Jesus. The image in her mind had her hand releasing the book, barely registering the sound it made as it fell to the floor.

Her breaths picked up as she continued to tease herself, the familiar feeling of her core clenching filling her senses as her orgasm barreled towards her.

A warm hand covered hers, and her gasp of surprise filled the room as her eyes flew open.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A low growl whispered in her ear. John’s warm breath did nothing to douse the inferno building inside her core. “You’re a naughty girl, Abby. Trying to get yourself off with your own fingers instead of waking me to help.”

“You need sleep,” she whispered. “And I needed to run.”

His hand squeezed hers. “You had a nightmare? You should have woken me.”

She closed her eyes and tried to move her hand, but his hold only tightened again.

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