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  Johnny didn’t flee screaming from my bitchery, which is what I’d have done in his place. He was infinitely patient with me. Driving me to work, picking me up, sitting beside me silent on the couch while we watched stupid movies or sleeping next to me without seeming to mind that I turned to face away from him every night with barely a kiss.

  I didn’t want to become this sexless, irritable bag of woe. I hated it, in fact, yet I couldn’t seem to break myself out of it. Hanging with Jen didn’t help. She was thoroughly head over heels for Jared, who seemed equally as enamored, and of course I was happy for her, but it made it impossible to talk about what was going on with me when our duo had become a quartet Saturday mornings at the Mocha.

  Carlos had a clue. He cornered me one morning as I ducked in, leaving Johnny waiting for me in the car, to grab us both a couple of coffees. “Trouble in paradise, huh?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your face is sour. What, you got him, now you don’t want him?”

  I stopped, clutching two paper cups that were so hot they were going to burn me through my gloves. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Carlos snorted. “You don’t look happy, that’s all.”

  “It has nothing to do with Johnny,” I told him.

  “Yeah? Well, if I were you, I’d make sure he knew it.” Carlos cast a significant glance toward the car idling at the curb. “I mean, a dude like that, he doesn’t really need to put up with any shit, you know?”

  I knew it. And as I slid into the car and handed Johnny his cup, I also leaned across to kiss him. He looked at me, surprised.

  “What’s that for?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been a bitch.”

  He laughed and kissed me. “Yeah. So? I figure you’re a little entitled. Besides, I knew it wouldn’t last.”

  Being forgiven, especially for something you know is your fault, is an easy spirit-lifter. “Oh, really? You know that?”

  “I knew it,” he said, and pulled into traffic.

  “How? What if I’d turned out to be a supermegatwat forever?”

  He shook his head, smiling as he cast me a quick glance before putting his eyes back on the road. “Nah. I told you. I knew it would get better.”

  I turned in my seat to face him, the seat belt digging into me a little. “How?”

  He sighed. “Because you told me, Emmaline.”

  “I did?” I frowned. “When?”

  Johnny hesitated and reached for my hand. He squeezed it. “One time when…”

  “I talked when I was dark?” I knew sometimes I did.

  “Yeah.” He hesitated again, but nodded.

  “What else did I say?”

  “Nothing. But it’s okay, honey, I’m just glad you’re feeling better. That’s all.”

  I didn’t deserve it to be this easy and told him so. “It’s not a good excuse, Johnny.”

  He was pulling into the parking lot of the credit union by this time, and he put the car into Park before turning to me. “No, it’s not. But it’s okay. Believe me, I’ve had my share of asshole moments. I can give someone the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I love you,” I said, and kissed him before the words I’d let slip out could embarrass me. “I mean…”

  “I love you, too, Emm,” Johnny said.

  The kiss was longer and more thorough this time. Tongue. Hands got a little frisky. We were steaming up the windows.

  I let my forehead rest against his shoulder for a second. I never wanted to be that girl, the one who said, “Do you? Do you really love me? Do you?” And the funny thing was, with Johnny, I didn’t feel like that. If anything, our mutual announcement had felt pretty anticlimactic.

  “Do you really?” I asked, anyway.

  He kissed my forehead. “Hell, yeah.”

  I laughed and kissed his mouth. “I love you. Love, love, love!”

  “Get outta here,” Johnny said. “Before you’re late for work, Jesus.”

  “Ah, there’s the grouchy pants I first met,” I teased. “That’s more like it.”

  “You like it when I’m grouchy.”

  “I do. Sort of like Mr. Darcy. All brooding and stuff.” I tickled him, and Johnny laughed, pulling away. I caught the end of his scarf and held him still for another kiss. “Say it again.”

  “I love you,” Johnny said.

  “Love you, too,” I told him, and got out of the car.

  That night, in my bed, I didn’t turn away from him. “Do you mind sleeping over here so often?”

  Johnny, who’d been reading, took off the glasses he didn’t like and I privately had been fetishizing. “No. Do you want to stay at my house instead?”

  “It’s not that.” I ran a hand over his hair, ruffling it, thinking of how it felt in my fugues. Rough silk. It felt the same in real life, too. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with it.”

  “Well…” He folded his glasses, then put the book on the nightstand to roll to face me. “I like your place. And I spend all day in mine when you’re at work, if I’m not at the gallery. So it’s okay.”

  I traced his lips with a fingertip, not pulling away when he bit it lightly. “I just want things to be fair, that’s all.”

  “Emm,” Johnny said, and kissed my palm. “I don’t care. So long as I’m in a bed with you in it, I don’t really fucking care which one it is.”

  “You,” I murmured, “have a fucking mouth.”

  He laughed. We kissed. The kiss became a cuddle, then something more. I couldn’t believe I’d been passing this up night after night. Okay, so maybe only a week or so of nights. Still, too many. When faced with the delectableness of Johnny’s cock rising between us, I found it hard to believe I could ever pass it up again.

  “Nice,” he said when I stroked him. “Keep doing that.”

  “This?” I arched a brow and continued the rhythm until his eyes grew heavy-lidded. “You like that?”

  “Fucking love it,” Johnny said.

  “I know something else you’ll love.” Grinning, I slid down under the blankets, into the dark, and found his cock with my mouth. His groan was muffled but entirely satisfactory when I took him in as deep as I could.

  The air was close beneath here, but I didn’t care. His scent covered me. Sexy as hell. His erection, thick in my mouth, tasted sexy, too. I lost myself in sucking, licking, even gently nibbling with my lips covering my teeth to keep from biting too hard.

  He thrust a little, not too much. Not choking me. I stroked his balls with my hand, then followed the path of my palm and licked him there, too. I grinned against his flesh as I heard another muffled curse. His hand came down to wind in my hair, tugging and pushing gently, setting the pace. I let him. I liked knowing he was feeling good. It made me feel good, too.

  I was feeling even better when I used my free hand to slide between my legs and stroke myself. My scent joined his, there in the cave I’d made of bedsheets and blankets. I circled my clit with my fingers, slowly, easing into the sensation.

  The air got hotter as I did, too. I moved my mouth along his cock, sucking a little harder at the top when he pushed into my mouth. I used a hand, too, stroking along with every slide of my mouth and lips on his flesh. He’d set the pace, but I teased him every so often by slowing down, swirling my tongue, twisting my grip on his shaft. I was aiming to make this a truly stellar blow job. I couldn’t stand the heat, though, and paused to throw off the covers.

  Cool air, not cold, flooded over me. I nuzzled at Johnny’s cock, feeling him tug my hair a little harder to get me to look up. I did, smiling.

  Johnny-then pulled me up to his mouth, his hands roaming. Cupping a breast, tweaking a nipple, replacing his fingers with his mouth while his hand slid down to move between my legs. I was too stunned to move. I’d had no warning, nothing. And my body wasn’t protesting this, not at all.

  “Johnny—”

  “Shh,” he said against my breast, fingers making magic on my c