Some fucker is dancing behind her. On her. Thrusting his cock against her ass.
And all I see is red.
I don’t think. I only react.
“Get the fuck off her.” My first move is to shove his shoulder—push him away—but he doesn’t budge. The asshole has wrapped his arm around her waist and is grinding even harder.
This isn’t a friendly dirty dance because you’re drunk. This guy is assaulting her.
I take one look at the fear and disgust on her face and uppercut the guy in the nose, sending him down onto the dance floor. One punch isn’t good enough for what he did to my girl, so I deliver another blow while he’s still down.
“Shit, Porter. We need to get out of here. Now.”
Frankee grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd toward the door. We speed walk down the sidewalk, not looking back. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I’m not so sure about that guy. You knocked the shit out of him. Twice.”
“I wanted to do more than that.” I was so tempted to kick his face in.
Frankee grasps my right hand and brings it up for inspection. “You’re bleeding. Can you move it?”
I fist and flex my hand. “Yeah, but it hurts like a motherfucker.”
“It needs ice.”
We’re quiet in the taxi on the way to the hotel. Have I pissed her off? Scared her? I don’t know.
She grabs the ice bucket when we enter the suite. “Go wash your hand while I get some ice.”
Shit. It’s swelling and hurts like hell, but I don’t regret hitting that fucker. Not even a little.
Frankee comes into the bathroom with the ice bucket liner filled with ice. She wraps the bag with a towel and inspects my hand again. “The cut doesn’t look too bad, but it’s swelling. I hope you haven’t fractured it.”
“It’ll be fine.”
She places the towel-wrapped ice bag on top of my hand and sighs. “Thank you for getting him off me.”
I shake my head as I recall the fury I felt when I realized what he was doing to her. “I didn’t like seeing another man touch you.”
“I didn’t like being touched by him. It made me sick.”
I look up, and our eyes meet. “The thought of anyone else touching you or having you makes me crazy.”
“I don’t want anyone but you.” The words are barely out of her mouth before her lips are on mine.
Our kiss is hungry. Passionate. Loving.
“Bedroom,” she whispers.
Her hands work to unfasten the buttons of my shirt en route to the bed. Unsatisfied with the slow progress, she reaches for the bottom and pulls it over my head while it’s still buttoned.
She unfastens my pants and slides my zipper down, putting her hand inside my boxer briefs. Her hand grasps my cock, and she glides it up and down with long strokes. Damn, this girl gives an awesome hand job.
Our kiss is fervent while her hand pumps me. I’m close to coming, so fucking close, but she doesn’t let me. It’s as though she knows the exact moment to stop before pushing me over the edge.
She flattens her palms on my chest and pushes me down on the bed. “I want you inside me when you come.”
Her dress comes over her head, and she shimmies her panties down her legs while I get out of my clothes. She climbs one knee at a time onto the bed and straddles me before leaning down so her chest is pressed to mine.
My tip is at her wet entrance, but she doesn’t sink down on it. She’s rocking her hips back and forth, teasing me. “You don’t want anyone else to have this? To have me?”
“No, Frankee. No one else can have you. Only me.”
“Show me that I’m yours.”
“Can’t do that from the bottom.” I rise and flip us so she’s on her back. “I’m going to make love to you until you come and shatter into a million pieces.”
She flattens her palms against my chest and rubs my pecs, causing my nipples to harden.
“I belong to you, Porter. You can do anything you want to me.” Her voice is nearly breathless.
I feather kisses down her chin and throat until my mouth finds one of her nipples. I take my time with both breasts before dragging my face and mouth down the center of her body to reach her hipbones. I kiss each of them and everything in between before dragging my nose over her groin. I will never tire of her scent.
I lick straight up her center. “Ahh.”
She squirms beneath my mouth before finding a steady rocking motion. “I love your mouth on me.”
Mmm, I love the way she tastes.
My fingers glide up her thighs and find her hands. She laces them with mine as she lifts her head to watch me. Our eyes meet for only a moment before she throws her head against the pillow and arches her back from the bed. She lifts her hips closer to my mouth and squeezes my hands tightly as her entire body stiffens. “Ahh, Porter.”
Her body trembles and then goes completely lax, panting as though trying to catch her breath. “You are a master Jedi at that. The Force is strong with you.”
I crawl over her body, kissing my way up until I hover above her. She adjusts her hips until my tip is positioned at her entrance. “I need you inside me.”
Nestling between her legs, I look at her baby blues. Everything in this moment feels different, as though we’re the only two people in this world.
I groan when I push myself into her slick opening. She tightens her muscles around me as I move in and out with methodical slowness, savoring the full sensation of being inside her unsheathed.
I watch her beautiful face as I move over her. I’m certain I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life. Ever.
I make love to her the way two people in love should. Slow. Deep. Significant. The affection I have for her is overwhelming: I love this woman with all my heart. She owns me, body and soul.
I bury my face against her neck and push deeply within her body, holding steady when I spasm, filling her with a part of myself. She locks her arms around me and squeezes her legs tighter.
“I fucking love you, Frankee,” I whisper against her ear as I spill every part of myself inside her.
She tightens her grip around me. “I love you, too.”
I still when I’m finished coming and press my forehead to hers. “You’re mine and no one else’s. Say it.”
“I’m yours and no one else’s.”
There. It’s done. There’s no taking it back now.
And that’s exactly the way I want it.
Four days in Austin. Four nights in this luxurious suite. Four mornings like this—waking with Porter’s body curled around mine like a vine, his arms wrapped tightly as though he may never release me.
Because he loves me.
Our relationship has changed during this trip. Transitioned into something very different. So much more.
“I want to talk about September.”
I’ve been wondering if this conversation would come up. “What about September?”
“Don’t go to Austin.”
Don’t go to Austin. There isn’t a lot of wiggle room for misinterpretation, but I need to know that Porter and I are on the same page. The same paragraph. The same word. “Be specific about what those words mean to you.”
“Stay in Birmingham… with me.”
Changing my life plans for a man is a big deal, but it’s astronomical size when you’ve only been dating him for a short time. I’ve known Porter for a lot of years but I don’t truly know him.
And yet I know I love him.
“I’m asking a lot. I’m well aware of how much, but I know that letting you get away would be the biggest mistake of my life.” He pulls me against him and kisses my bare shoulder. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Staying is a big deal. You’re asking me to change everything for you.”
“I’m asking you to change everything for us. I’m asking you to want me more than you want whatever you think is here for you.” H
e kisses my shoulder again. “Austin can wait.”
“Your mom said something along those same lines.”
“You talked to her about leaving Birmingham?”
“Yeah. She told me I should stay and see what happens with us.”
“Don’t you like where this is going?”
“I do. Very much.”
“Then stay. And we can do lots more of this.” He flips me over so I’m lying on my back and kisses the side of my neck. “And this.” He moves lower and kisses the space between my breast. “And lots more of this.” He moves down and kisses my stomach.
“Mmm… I do love me some of this.”
“I’m going to be doing everything within my power to persuade you to stay. If I have to eat your pussy morning, noon, and night to convince you, I will.”
“Porter…” He can be so crude.
“I’m not kidding, Frankee. I’ll do it.”
“I know you’re not kidding.” This man goes down on me every chance he gets. I’m not complaining.
“I have six weeks to convince you to stay. I think I should start my persuasion tactics right now.”
And he does.
“I can’t believe I’m dropping you off. That was the shortest four-day trip I’ve ever taken.”
“I know. And it was really four days for the convention and then two additional days for travel. You could almost count it as six days.”
Porter walks me to the front door, carrying my suitcase. “I’m going to hate being in bed without you tonight.”
“I know. I’m going to miss waking up with you wrapped around me.”
Our house doesn’t have a foyer so entering the front door puts us in the living room where my parents are on the sofa watching television.
“Hey… there’s our girl,” my dad says.
Porter puts my suitcase on the floor. “Returned safely, as promised.”
“I never worried she wouldn’t be. How was the convention?”
“It was great. I learned a lot. Got to see the latest trends.”
“Did you explore Austin while you were there?”
“Not a lot. We went out the first night but the daily itinerary ran until five every day. That didn’t leave a lot of time for sightseeing but at least we got to have dinner at some great restaurants and talk shop.”
“Thank you again for giving Frankee this opportunity.”
“Happy to do it.” Porter steps toward the door. “I will see all of you at Stout’s party tomorrow night.”
“See you.”
He leaves and it feels unnatural to watch him go without a hug or kiss.
Of course, my parents want to hear everything about my travels the minute he’s gone. What I thought about my first flight. The hotel. The conference. I do my best to stretch the truth as far as it’ll go, hoping I won’t need to tell any lies. I know Porter and I are lying by omission, but I don’t want to add any additional untruths to the mix if I can help it.
I’m showered and preparing for bed when my mom taps on my door. “Can I come in for a minute?”
“Sure.”
She shuts the door behind her. She never does that unless she plans on having a conversation that Dad or the boys don’t need to hear.
“What’s going on?”
She sits on the end of my bed, a sign that she has no intention of leaving anytime soon. “I want to talk to you about Porter.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“What’s going on between you and him?”
It’s one thing to lie by omission, but it’s another to look her in the face and fabricate a story. I can’t do it. “We’re seeing each other.”
“Why haven’t you told us?”
“I was afraid of what you’d say about my entering into a relationship with him when I know I’m leaving in September. And Porter was worried about our relationship causing problems with Daddy. It just felt unnecessary to say anything when we knew it would be over soon.”
“Did you share a room with him on this trip?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Are you being careful?”
“Yes.”
My mom inhales deeply and releases the breath. “You’re twenty-one, and maybe I should have known, but I didn’t think you were sexually active.”
“You weren’t wrong. I was a virgin until Porter.”
“Oh.”
“I love him.”
“Has he told you that he loves you?”
“Yes. And he’s asked me to stay here with him instead of moving to Austin.”
“Would you do that? Stay for him?”
“It seems irrational to drop everything for a guy when our relationship is still so new. But I love him. And I believe him when he says that he loves me. Which makes it irrational to walk away from something real.”
“You don’t have to make this decision right now. You have a little time.” She isn’t telling me this is a horrible idea. She isn’t telling me I should end things with him.
“He says he’s going to convince me to stay.”
“Your dad and I wouldn’t mind that. You know we don’t want you to move away.”
“Will you please not tell Dad just yet?” I hate asking that of her.
“Your dad and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“I know. And I’m not asking you to lie to him or keep a secret. I’m just asking you to put off telling him until I make a decision about where things are going.”
“I can keep it to myself for the time being. But you shouldn’t tarry. The longer you put it off, the more likely he is to find out on his own. And I can promise you that it would go much smoother if this news came from you and Porter.”
“I know. Do you think that Dad will be okay with Porter being so much older than me?”
“How much older?”
“He’s thirty.”
“That’s definitely older. But you’ve always been an old soul. I can’t imagine you dating a boy your age. I think your dad will be okay with it as long as he treats you well.”
“He’s so good to me. And his family is too. They are lovely.”
“You’ve already met his family?” She clearly wasn’t expecting that.
“Yes. His mother was recently diagnosed with breast cancer, and I’ve been speaking with her over the phone about her treatment. She asked him to bring me home last weekend. His parents, his brother and his wife, his sister and her husband and their children were there. They treated me like I was part of their family. It felt right.”
“When it’s right, it’s right. I don’t think you felt that way for no reason. It’s very possible that he’s the one. And personally, I can’t wait to see what happens.”
“Me either.”
I’m miserable. Not that this surprise birthday party isn’t awesome. The coordinator did a fantastic job. It’s that I’m in misery watching Porter across the room talking to this woman and that woman.
“Hey, Frankee. Having a good time?” It’s Jason, one of Lovibond’s delivery truck drivers. Cute guy about my age but not my type.
“Oh, yeah. Fun party.”
“It’s cool they invited everyone from the brewery.”
“That was nice.”
“Your dad looks like he’s having a good time.”
I look at my mom and dad on the dance floor and they are cutting a rug. “My parents love to dance.”
“I can see that. Would you care to dance with me?”
All I’m doing is standing against the wall while Porter makes the rounds, talking to every female in the room but me. So why the hell not?
The band is playing their rendition of ‘Come On Eileen.’ Not bad. “Sure. I like this song.”
Jason cups his hand over mine, puts his hand around my waist, and does this weird rocking sideways motion. This guy must not go clubbing, or he’d know this is not a couple song, and you sure don’t dance like one to a song like this.
My mom and dad are out-dancing me. For real. And my d
ad is laughing his ass off about it.
“Shut up, old man.” I have nothing to work with here.
I’m grateful when the song ends, but the next one is slow. The Pretenders’ ’I’ll Stand by You.’ And the dude doesn’t let go. “Up for another dance?”
“Sure.” One more won’t hurt.
He pulls me closer, and my natural reaction is to lean away. “You dating anyone?”
“Yeah.” Your boss. And he’s standing behind you looking very pissed off.
“May I cut in?”
“Sure.” Jason stops and passes me off to the boss man.
Porter puts his arms around my waist and pulls me much closer than he should. He cups his hand around mine and brings them to rest between our chests. A very romantic position for us to be in. “A boss and his intern shouldn’t be dancing like this.”
“Don’t care.”
“People are going to take notice.”
“Let them take notice.”
I look at my parents, and they’re in their own little world, paying zero attention to Porter and me.
“You look beautiful. And it’s fucking killing me that I have to keep my hands off you.”
“You didn’t look like it was bothering you too much when you were talking to all of those women.”
“All of those women?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I wasn’t on the dance floor holding any of them.”
“He asked me to dance, and it was a fast song. In the club, we bounce to the remix of that song. I never dreamed that he would grab me like that.”
Porter lowers his face until our lips are nearly touching. “You’re mine. I’m not going to let another man touch you like that. And if I have to blow our cover to put a stop to it, I will.”
“Cage the rage. Nothing happened.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I lose my mind when I see another man put his hands on you. I hate it.”
“No one is putting his hands on me. Only you.”
“I’m so damn ready to get you alone. I’m counting down the minutes until I can get you out of this dress.”
“Do you want me to meet you at your place when this is over?”
“Yeah. Do you think you can spend the night?”
“I’d love to, but I should probably go home after being gone all week.”
Porter Page 16
