Licking my lips, I lean back and watching her bounce up and down on my cock. Her tits shake along with her rhythm and her face is pure ecstasy.
I love this sight.
“Fuck, Gio.” She moans.
The sounds are pretty damn good too.
I don’t care what anyone else says, there is nothing as beautiful as Annie Byrne bouncing on my cock.
I keep one hand on her ass, guiding her pace and move the other to her pussy, using my thumb to massage her clit.
“Yes,” she moans. “That’s so good.”
I keep going until she’s panting and breathless above me.
“Please,” she whimpers.
I love when she begs.
“Fuck, baby. Come for me.”
She explodes over the edge of her orgasm, eyes pressed closed, screaming my name. I fucking love her like this. Breathless and out of control.
I fucking love her.
“Why did you come here?” She asks me, drawing circles on my bare chest.
I’m on my back in her bed now staring up at the plain white ceiling. It’s a good question, but I’m not sure if I’m willing to bare my soul to her to answer it. “I felt…” I trail off. I can’t find the word to use here. I felt lost, panicked, in need. “I needed you.” I finally whisper.
“I’m sorry.” She’s sincere, I can tell. She had every right to push me away but instead she brought me in, held me, and weathered the storm.
“Will you come with me?”
“Where?” She props herself up on her elbow so she can look at me.
“The hospital.” My voice is hoarse. “I need to see him.”
I’ve had men in the hospital before. I’ve witnessed my friends get hurt. But Gian? Gian is my best friend in the world, he’s the person I’m closest too. The thought of living without him sparks a pain in my chest. I feel like I can’t breathe.
“Absolutely.” The answer leaves her lips without a thought.
We dress quickly and wordlessly. I drove my father Escalade back to the hospital. There’s still Gian’s blood staining the back of the car. Annie glances at it over her shoulder then straightens herself quickly. She doesn’t say a word, though I know it’s weighing on her.
We enter Providence General holding hands.
It’s us against the world.
Ride or die.
“How is he?” My dad is leaning over a sleeping Gian when we get into his room. He looks up to see me with Annie.
“Stable.” He answers. “Thank god.”
I look up to the sky before making the sign of the cross. I’m not religious, normally. My family is, my mother drug the four of us to church religiously every Sunday. I don’t think any of us have been back since her funeral.
“He’ll make it.” My dad adds. “He’s gonna be a prick about rehab though, hmm?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, he’s gonna hate that shit.” Gian hate’s being told what to do, and he hates being incapable. I can only imagine rehab is going to be a living hell for him and most likely for the therapists too.
Giuseppe stands from the cheap hospital chair, brushing off his black slacks. He’s wearing a white undershirt, the button down he wore earlie is speckled with blood and draped over the back of the chair.
“Annie,” he greets. “Wish it were better circumstances.”
She smiles sheepishly. “Me too.” He pulls her in for a hug and presses a kiss to each of her cheeks.
“Go get some food, dad. We can sit with him for a while.”
He nods in agreement. “Hear from your sister?”
I shake my head no. I don’t even know what I’ll say when I do hear from her, I’m still too angry.
“I’ve called her three times.” Dad says. “It’s not like her.”
“She’s with him?” Annie asks, eliciting a surprised look from my dad but he nods. “If she loves him…” she trails. “She probably feels safe with him. Maybe she needs some space?”
Giuseppe chuckled. “She sounds like your mother.” He smiles at Annie warmly. “I’ll be in the cafeteria.”
I walk over to my brother. He has a private room at least. Gian is still passed out from his surgery, probably pumped full of drugs. His shoulder is wrapped in gauze and he’s tucked into scratchy white sheets. Dad had been right though, nothing vital was hit. They pulled out the bullet and stitched him up. He’d be in pain for a while and have a few weeks of physical therapy for his shoulder and arm, but he’d make it through fine.
Hopefully taking a bullet from the Irish makes him stronger in front of the other men. I can wish at least.
“I’m glad he’s okay.” Annie whispers. She stands close to the door, like she’s ready to run at any moment.
“Me too.”
“We should talk.” She says, her eyes glued to the linoleum floor.
“About what?”
She wraps an arm around her stomach protectively. Her eyes scan the room, looking anywhere but at him. “This…us. You know.”
“I don’t know, Annie. What?” I feel defensive now. I do know what she wants to talk about, but I don’t want to hear it. She wants to break my fucking heart and I’m not ready for that kind of damage, not yet.
I want to push her away. I want to be the first to draw the line in the sand.
“We don’t work.” She finally says.
The words hit me like a ton of bricks, even knowing they were coming isn’t enough to protect me.
We work. We fucking work. I want her, I need her.
“Why?” I ask.
With one word, she stabs me in the heart. “Johnny.”
“Fine.” I concede, pulling my cell phone from my pocket. “I’ll call Charlie.
