Johnnie Blue

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Johnnie Blue Page 2

by Denyse Cohen


  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, jerking his cock inside me. Then, lifting me up a notch and dislodging.

  I reluctantly slid my feet to the floor, wishing we could stay like one forever.

  He tenderly stroked my body: hips, belly, breasts, neck, and holding my face in his hands, said, “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I turned my face and kissed the palm of his hand. “Where is your ring?” I asked, feigning indignation.

  “Sorry, baby. I left in such a hurry I forgot to put it on, it’s in my briefcase. You know I can’t have anything personal on me when I’m undercover.” His arms moved down to circle my waist as he kissed my forehead.

  “You’re back safely, that’s what matters.” I lifted my head to kiss him, then went to gather my underwear from the floor. “We better get out of here, before we’re thrown out.”

  When I bent down, he ambled up behind me and placed his hands on either side of my hips, pressing his hot and still engorged cock against my butt. I felt an instantaneous rush of heat running through my spine. “How about we get away from here and finish this on our bed?”

  “And your friend?” I straightened myself up but didn’t move away, nothing compared to the feeling of his strong, warm body against mine.

  “I’ve already talked to him, paid my respects. Besides, he’s hammered. He won’t even know we left.”

  “Great! Weddings aren’t really my scene.”

  “Really?” He twirled me to face him. “I thought you had a great time at our wedding, Mrs. Cooper.”

  “Nope. It was the alcohol,” I teased. “I would’ve been happy to elope in Vegas.”

  “Is marriage really so bad?” He lightly pinched my nipple.

  “Oh, no. I have nothing against marriage, it’s the wedding I don’t like.” I shrugged, sliding my hand through his torn shirt and stroking his chest.

  “I’m glad because you’ll be married to me for the rest of my life.”

  “I’ll be married to you for the rest of mine.” I stood on my tip toes and gave him a slow, hot kiss. “Now, you go first and see if you can score that bottle of whiskey and I’ll meet you outside.”

  “You should be the special agent.” He gave me that smile; the one that made my heart skip a beat every time for the past six years.

  “The agency can’t afford me.” I smirked, fixing his shirt as he closed his pants. He looked in the mirror and smoothed his hair with a hand then closed his jacket.

  “See you outside.” He gave me a peck on the lips and unlocked the door.

  “Wait…”—before he stepped out I reached for his arm—“I always see you when I close my eyes.”

  His grey eyes sparkled and the corner of his wonderful lips twisted up as he lifted my hand, kissed it gently, and walked away.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Another fucking wedding

 

 

 


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