Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  “Aiden,” she laughed. “Your financials put you in an entirely different world than mine. I don’t think those worlds are going to mix well.”

  “We won’t know until we try.”

  The waiter returned delivering the chicken skewer appetizer with a flourish.

  “What do you want me to do, go to galas as your arm candy? Because I’ll be honest. What you saw last night? Sweat pants and UFC and greasy sandwiches? I’d much rather be doing that on a weekend than strutting around like one of Pru’s friends, dressed to the nines and ‘being seen.’”

  “In this arrangement, Franchesca, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not interested in you as another Society Barbie. I like you the way you are.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “You’re trying to come up with another excuse. Try it, Franchesca. Date me. Fuck me.”

  “You know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” she joked, taking another sip of wine.

  “I’m just being honest.”

  She picked up a piece of bread from the plate and studied it. “Fine. I don’t want to be paraded around like one of your other ‘dates.’ And my life is here. I don’t want to be trekking all over Manhattan at your beck and call.”

  “Deal. I don’t do messy. I don’t do drama. If you can adhere to those two things, we’ll get along just fine.”

  “Monogamy?” Frankie asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “A requirement for us both.”

  She nodded. “Good. I guess we have a deal.”

  He reached across the table and picked up her hand. But instead of shaking it, he brushed a kiss over the knuckles. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you,” he predicted.

  They ate and talked over spoonfuls of fish stew and bites of salt cod fritters and lingered over their coffee. It was strong, not bitter but not quite sweet, on his tongue, and Aiden couldn’t help but think of the flavor of Franchesca. He’d only begun to sample it, and he wanted more.

  She picked up the check before he could stop her. “Uh-uh,” she said, snatching the paper away. “Money isn’t an area of contention, is it?”

  “I pay, Franchesca.”

  “You can get next time. This one’s on me. And stop frowning like that. If it means that much to you, you can get dessert.”

  Dessert. The word brought dozens of images of Frankie’s naked body to mind.

  “Gelato, Kilbourn. I see what you’re thinking.”

  The server returned with Frankie’s change. “I’m leaving the tip,” Aiden announced, laying down a bill roughly the value of the entire tab for dinner.

  “Show off.”

  They rose, and he helped her into her coat. It was a wool trench that had seen better days. “You’re missing a button,” he said sweeping into his own cashmere coat and eyeing the gap in her coat’s closure.

  “Ugh, I know. I lost it last winter when my brothers dared me to sneak out of my old bedroom window at my parents’ house and shimmy down the tree like I used to. In my defense, we were three bottles of wine into Thanksgiving dinner. Still can’t find the button.”

  “So, where’s this gelato place?” Aiden asked. He was pleased when she took his hand as they exited the restaurant. He wanted to ask her what she had in mind after dessert. He had an overnight bag in the car and a respectable stash of condoms. He was just being prepared… and maybe a little hopeful.

  Frankie led the way around the block. “Did you work today?” she asked.

  He nodded. He hadn’t been planning to. Hell, he wasn’t supposed to have flown home from Barbados until this morning, but Franchesca had changed that plan when she left his bed. “I did. Had to make sure nothing catastrophic had happened while I was gone.”

  “Did you decide what you’re going to do about Elliot?” Frankie asked.

  He tensed, wondering if this was a trap. Another excuse for her to go back to hating him. “I hit him where it hurts the most.”

  “His broken nose?” Frankie asked.

  Aiden laughed. “No, but he has two black eyes and can’t breathe, so that was entertaining to see as he groveled to our father.”

  “You went to your dad?” Frankie asked.

  “Elliot was always a problem child. He makes rash decisions, often with large amounts of money. He was given a position in the company because it was only fair in my father’s eyes. But Elliot’s money is tied up in a revocable trust. My father didn’t want him gambling it away or loaning it to a prostitute to start her own brothel.”

  “Or a girl who dances like a stripper,” Frankie said, batting her lashes at him.

  Aiden nudged her shoulder. “I’m sorry for that. I’d had a long day, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend my evening at a party with friends trying to hook me up.”

  “And you had a migraine.”

  “That too.”

  “Do you get them often?”

  “Only on special occasions. Usually when dealing with Elliot.”

  “So, what did your father consider a punishment for committing a felony?” Frankie asked.

  “He froze Elliot’s accounts for a month.”

  Frankie stumbled. “Your brother kidnaps someone in some whack job power move, and your daddy takes his allowance away?”

  Aiden wasn’t about to tell her he’d had a similar reaction when his father had meted out the punishment. It was private family business.

  “My father felt that was what the situation called for.”

  “And what do you feel like ‘the situation’ called for? Keep in mind your answer will determine if you get past the gelato portion of our evening.”

  “In that case, I’d like to bring back tarring and feathering.”

  “You’re learning, Aide. You’re learning,” she said, eyes twinkling. It was a victory sweeter than any in recent history. And without thinking, without maneuvering her into it, Aiden pulled Frankie against him.

  “Do I get to kiss you anytime I want now that we’re dating?”

  She looked up at him, hooking her fingers into his lapels. “Within reason, I suppose.”

  He saw the heat in the narrowing of her eyes, the parting of her lips. And when he brought his mouth to hers, he tasted that victory again. Franchesca Baranski had submitted, temporarily. She was his to kiss, to fuck, to tease. And he wasn’t going to waste a second of their time together.

  She was backing up, and he followed her until her shoulders met the cold brick of the building. Holding her there, Aiden cupped her chin in his hands and seduced her mouth. Her lips were full and oh so soft. He remembered them sliding over his dick, remembered them going round in the shock of her release. And now they were feeding hungrily on him.

  Her hands moved from his chest inside his coat to his hips. She pulled him against her and groaned when she felt his erection.

  “How married are you to gelato?” she asked, breaking free of his mouth.

  “I hate gelato.”

  “My apartment is three blocks from here.”

  “I have condoms in the car.”

  “I have some at my place.”

  His father’s warning to his teenage son echoed in his head. Rich kid rule number seventeen. Never use a woman’s condoms. She may be trying to trap you by getting pregnant.

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Three blocks felt like miles when her clit was swollen with need and there was a sexy man holding her hand who could do something very efficiently about it. They barely spoke, the tension between them skyrocketing by the second.

  Every brush of his body against hers put Frankie further on painful, needy edge.

  Would it be as good as it had been in Barbados? Would it be better? Would she survive?

  There was only one way to find out.

  She fumbled with her keys at the door, nerves visible in the way her fingers shook. Aiden took her keys from her an
d unlocked the door. It was the last civilized thing he did for the rest of the night.

  Frankie dragged him inside and shut the door behind them before Mrs. Chu could stick her head out into the hallway and offer them snacks or sex advice. Aiden was already shedding his coat and suit jacket by the time she slid the chain on the door.

  She joined him, shucking layers and shoes until they had the barest of essentials between them.

  “Come here,” he said, his voice a gravelly order.

  She could have sauntered to him, making him wait, keeping the upper hand for a bit longer until he stole it from her with those sinful lips and magic cock that was straining to escape the confines of his sexy, tight red underwear. But she didn’t. Frankie launched herself at him. Aiden, to his credit, didn’t buckle under her weight.

  He picked her up, lifting her by her ass cheeks, and settled her against his hard-on.

  She was beyond grateful that she’d dressed with the potential for sex on the mind. For once, her underwear matched her bra. Black and lacy were about as sexy as she got effort-wise. And they seemed to be doing the job.

  Aiden fed on her mouth as he carried her into the bedroom. This time, he lowered her slowly to the mattress, covering her body with his. Her bed was small, nothing like the acreage of mattress they’d indulged themselves on in Barbados. But Aiden didn’t seem to mind.

  “Condoms?” he asked, his voice rough.

  She pointed to a box on her nightstand.

  “I hope you put those there thinking of me,” he said dryly. She was amazed that he could tease her with as hard as his cock was against her.

  “No, I always keep a jumbo box of extra-large for-her-pleasure rubbers on my nightstand.”

  He pinched her ass, and she squealed. His mouth muffled any further comment.

  “I want you in every way possible,” he confessed.

  “Gotta start somewhere,” she breathed, half laughing, half ready to plead. “How do you want me, Aiden?”

  As she’d expected, the question had carnal need lighting his beautiful blue eyes. He clenched his jaw.

  “Show me,” she insisted. She was giving him permission. The last time it had been a war for the upper hand. This time, she wanted to see exactly what dark fantasies went on behind that angel’s face.

  He growled low in his throat and flipped her over onto her stomach. He held her head down by grabbing a handful of hair and slid an arm around her waist, lifting her hips so that she rose onto her knees.

  “Is this okay?” he whispered.

  “I’m greenlighting you. Whatever you want is okay tonight.” Sure, she was testing him. But if he didn’t slam his cock into her in the next ten seconds, she was probably going to die.

  “Whatever I want?” he repeated.

  “Well, I’m not into threesomes or dudes pissing on me.”

  “What about…” he trailed a finger down her spine to the cleft between her ass cheeks. When he stroked the tip of the finger over her asshole, Frankie tensed.

  “Let’s see how the evening goes,” she said.

  “I think we should get married,” Aiden joked.

  Frankie laughed into the pillow. “Aide, seriously if you don’t stick a body part inside me right now, I’m throwing you out and going for gelato by myself.”

  “We can’t have that, now can we?” He took those magic fingers and brought them between her legs.

  “God, yes.” Frankie’s groan was muffled when he dragged her underwear down her thighs. And then she was soundless with shock and pleasure when he finally drove two fingers into her tight, wet core. Finally, she wasn’t empty anymore.

  She pushed her hips back against him, begging for more. Aiden’s hand left her hair and slid down her shoulder and around to cup her breast where it hung.

  Kneading her with one hand and fucking her with the other, he slowly escalated the torment. And Frankie chanted her words into the pillow.

  “You are such a beautiful girl, Franchesca,” Aiden whispered, raining kisses down her back.

  God, she loved the feel of him curling over her. Of him pumping his fingers into her and tugging on her nipples. She needed more.

  And he was willing to give it to her.

  Frankie felt his thumb probing between her ass cheeks and tensed at the touch.

  “Trust me?”

  The question was strained.

  She didn’t trust Aiden to not bend the rules until he got what he wanted or even possibly abduct someone like his brother had. But she did trust him to give her body pleasure like she’d never known before.

  “Yep. Okay. Yeah,” she said, her voice husky.

  He didn’t need reassurance. In moments, she was back to begging as he fingered her in ways she’d never experienced. That thumb. Those magic fingers. The feel of his thick shaft probing her through the material of the briefs he’d yet to remove. His heavy breath that she could not only hear but also feel against her bare skin.

  There was only so much build up a girl could take before she exploded.

  Frankie cried out into the pillow on a particularly masterful crook of his fingers. She was going to explode and take the entire apartment building down.

  Aiden groaned, low and guttural. “I feel you getting ready to come.” He leaned down and bit her on the shoulder.

  That quick slice of pain was all it took to snap her like a guitar string. She let go and hurtled into the orgasm. This? This was otherworldly, and Aiden was her new universe.

  Chanting praise, he continued to pump his fingers and thumb into her and she shuddered and trembled through her release.

  Aiden played her body like a maestro.

  She felt his weight shift behind her, sobbed out a plea when he pulled out of her. And then she heard the foil wrapper.

  He stroked himself against her, priming his cock, and Frankie spread her knees just a little wider, inviting him in. It took nothing more.

  Aiden notched the crown of his dick against her, gripped her hips, and drove into her.

  Decadently full, Frankie welcomed the invasion. The noise he made at the back of his throat drove her wild. Frankie reared up, arching her back.

  He closed his fist around her hair and used it to hold her still while he began torturously slow, measured strokes. She was so glad she hadn’t insisted on gelato.

  His other hand was never still, stroking and squeezing her flesh as if he wanted to explore every inch of her body. Aiden’s grip on her hair disappeared, and when he gripped her by the hips, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked back at him.

  He looked like a god lost in the throes of passion. His jaw was clenched. The cords of his neck stood out against the strain. His eyes were hooded.

  “I love when you look at me like that,” he gritted out the words.

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m the center of your universe.”

  That connection, gaze to gaze, held them prisoner. His pace quickened imperceptibly at first before speeding up, faster and faster. His thrusts were so powerful they were forcing her forward until finally she was flat on her stomach accepting his full weight on her back.

  “Aiden!” she called out his name. The climax building again inside her was terrifying.

  He grunted softly into her ear, lost to the wild rhythm. Take, his body told hers. And Frankie was only too happy to obey. He was crushing her to the mattress, giving her no room to move. All she could do was take the pleasure he was delivering.

  Aiden slid his hand between her legs, cupping her exactly where she needed his touch. “I’m coming, and I need you with me,” he told her.

  He slammed into her—once then twice—and, on the third thrust, held as he shouted victoriously. She met him there, her walls closing around him as her body fell into spectacular freefall. “Fuck, Franchesca. Baby,” he groaned against her ear.

  It only made her come harder. His cock pulsing inside her, his labored breathing against her neck, the weight of him on top of her. Her finger
s were white knuckled on the sheets even as the waves began to mellow.

  He fucked her until she was done and vibrating beneath him, and then he collapsed on top of her.

  “I know I’m crushing you,” he said, “but moving is not an option right now.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve accomplished all I’ve set out to do sexually. Dying like this is totally acceptable,” Frankie said into the pillow. “My mom will be so proud.”

  “Speaking of your mother—”

  “Aiden, you’re still inside me. I don’t like where this is going.”

  He laughed softly against her neck. “Am I still invited to Sunday lunch?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Frankie hadn’t exactly meant to let him spend the night. But lounging in her bed with naked Aiden Adonis wrapped around her was too decadent to put a stop to. Plus, the heat that his ridiculously perfect body pumped off was more than enough to keep her warm in her Arctic breeze apartment. The windows were drafty, and the building’s furnace had been on its last legs for years. But the rent was affordable, and it was close to her parents.

  So she dressed in layers and piled blankets on her bed. The bed that Aiden had dominated last night with his large frame. The bed that he’d been too polite to complain about with its lumpy mattress and sagging box springs. It was on her list of things to replace when she was finally done paying for grad school. Sure. She’d have some student loans, but for the most part, she’d shouldered the burden up front, paying as much of her tuition as she could out of pocket.

  Frankie poked her head out of the bathroom and eyed the damage a vigorous night of lovemaking caused while she brushed her teeth. Her blankets were in a pile on the floor, and at one point, someone’s foot or arm had swept the nightstand clean. It looked as though she was going to need a new lamp.

  Worth it.

  Aiden had pressed a kiss to her forehead on his way out at the ungodly hour of five.

  He had early meetings and needed to get home to shower and change.

  She, on the other hand, had lounged about in her bed on sheets that smelled like him until her alarm sounded two hours later.