Fuck her.
If Kendall had been negotiating with Johnnie to save Bash and Celia—and Christopher—she wouldn’t have had to beg and plead like Megan. She wouldn’t have had to place her trust in Bash and offer herself while Johnnie held a gun to Celia’s head. She would’ve stood up to Bash and Johnnie like the grown woman she was.
Megan was a pathetic cunt.
Fuck her.
Thank everything in the fucking universe that she hadn’t become his wife with her fertile pussy and her love of fucking. Johnnie bet that even during her supposed pussy lockouts, she sucked Christopher’s cock.
Bitch. Fucking little slut.
Fuck her.
Christopher could have that fucking trainwreck. She was a fucking cocksucking nightmare.
Johnnie should’ve stuck his dick down her throat instead of just having her jerk him off.
His breath hitched at the idea of her mouth on him and his cock throbbed. He hated that little bitch so fucking much.
Whatever happened to Kendall, Megan always blamed him. Johnnie was almost certain she had somehow gotten intohis wife’s head during the LA trip and convinced her to have an affair with Mortician.
Mortician.
Fucking fuckhead.
Like Christopher, that motherfucker had lusted after Kendall from the beginning. Flicking his cigarette away, Johnnie remembered the exact moment he realized Kendall and Mortician were together at a seaside town, hours away.
All the better to hide their fucking.
“Motherfucker,” he snarled.
“You okay, Veep?” Torrin called.
Even if Johnniewasn’tokay, he’d never admit it tothatmotherfucker, Diesel’s best friend.
“Perfect,” he responded, not sticking around for any more questions.
Halfway to his house and the lonely room Kendall exiled him to, Johnnie halted, inspiration hitting him. He’d gotten to Bailey once. He could do it again, despite Kendall’s order to “fix” whatever he’d done to her precious Mortician’s marriage.
What about what that motherfucker was doing to Johnnie and Kendall’s marriage?
Kendall belonged toJohnnie. No one else could have her. Ever. Not Christopher and not Mortician.
“Lucas isn’t here, Johnnie,” Bailey said after Johnnie rang the bell five minutes later and she answered the door. “I thought he was at the club with you.”
Bailey was a gorgeous woman. A little insecure about herself, something that was becoming increasingly evident as the years went on. Johnnie never knew what she considered herself: black, mixed, or biracial. Not that it mattered. If he’d wanted her, he could’ve had her. He was almost certain K-P would’ve preferred him with Bailey rather than Mortician.
Johnnie saw that motherfucker’s interest though and stepped aside. Competition was a healthy part of life. It kept the mind functioning at a high level and the body working to maximum capacity. He hadn’t wanted to humiliate Mortician and send him away with his tail between his legs.
Unlike Megan,Baileywas smart enough to keep her options open. But Johnnie was already smitten with Kendall, so Bailey hadn’t stood a chance with him. Besides, Johnnie didn’t want to put in all the effort it would’ve taken to win Megan for himself. If he’d truly wanted that little cunt, she would’ve been his.
Fuck her.
Didn’t she—and Bailey—realize he was leagues better than Mortician and Christopher for her—them—or any woman?
“Johnnie, Lucas isn’t here,” Bailey repeated, tightening her pretty robe, fumes of alcohol wafting from her.
“I’m not here to see him, sweetheart.”
