by Maya Hughes
This weekend was not turning out anything like I expected. I sure hoped this was the last of the surprises.
13
John - Now
Whenever Frankie entered a room, I couldn't keep my eyes off her, and that night was no exception. And when she wore a dress, it took things to a different level. She was the dream I'd been telling myself to forget about for the past ten years. To stay away or I'd get burned, but when she looked like that, I didn't care. I wanted her fire to consume me.
"Hey," she said, breathlessly. Her cheeks were flushed, and she glanced over at Rachel, who came filing out after her. “What went on in there?”
"Trust me, you don't want to know," she chuckled and smiled. Her smiles and laughter still took getting used to when they were directed at me. It had been so long since she'd given me one, that I forgot how they pulled something out of me. A calmness and anticipation all at once. I didn't know how I was going to sleep in that room with her tonight. All I'd be thinking about was what she looked like under her tank top and boxers.
A server came by with a tray filled with shots. I glanced over at Killian. He lifted his shot glass to us. Frankie grabbed two. I reached for one, and she snatched it back.
"Get your own," she said, clinking her tiny glass to Rachel's before throwing one back. I grabbed one off the tray.
"What's the occasion, Killian?" I said, across the table.
"The occasion is I'm married to this beautiful woman right here. Her bridesmaids are driving her crazy, and her parents have decided they are going to be spending at least half the year in the city, so they can be close enough for when we start having grandchildren." Sounded like a good enough reason to throw back a few shots.
The rest of the evening flew by as we were kicked out of the reception room and moved to the hotel bar. The night was even better than I imagined. I hadn't been to many weddings, but I imagined they didn't get more fun than this. Old Killian was back. The fun guy who I'd known was in there. Rachel played nurse maid to some of her bridesmaids and made us stay downstairs a bit longer.
"I'm glad you two could be here for me today." He squeezed us both with his arms around our shoulders. I glanced over at Frankie, and she had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.
"Killian, I think maybe we should get you upstairs."
"I'm fine. I'm fine. My in-laws are looking at apartments next to mine. They want to be extra close for babysitting duty."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. We aren't even thinking about having kids yet. I think this is going to be an interesting year."
"I'll say," Frankie said, patting Killian's hand. "I mean you can't really blame them when you did run off with your bride, after barely finishing the ceremony, into the back room of the church. Maybe they thought you were getting a jump start on things."
"Never seen a hotter woman than my wife in my life." He said with a faraway look in his eyes. It was definitely time to get him up to bed. "Here we all are. Back together again. I'm glad you two could put aside your differences and stand up by my side today." His eyes were a little glazed, but I heard the emotion in his voice. Frankie and I held onto either arm.
"You know we've got you man. We love you."
"I love you guys, too. You're the closest thing I have to family."
I knew how he felt. It was the same for me. I nodded to Frankie, and she nodded back. Time to get Mr. Groom back to his room.
The elevator ride up was an exercise in patience and balance. We finally tucked Killian into the second bedroom in their suite so we didn't disturb Rachel and Dahlia, who were helping herd some of her sloshed bridesmaids into bed. Somehow, she’d been stuck with that duty.
With no more drunk people to tend to, we headed back to our room. The minute the door to Killian and Rachel’s suite closed, Frankie leaned against the wall in the hallway doubled over, with tears streaming down her face.
"I don't think I've ever seen him that drunk in my life," she said, gasping for air. "He's so in for it tomorrow morning. Poor guy." She wiped the tears from her face. With her shoes in her hand, she looped her arm through mine as we walked back to her suite.
"Poor guy, indeed." My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. I didn't think I'd ever get close enough to see this side of her, and she was gorgeous. Beyond anyone or anything I'd ever seen. Her hair was coming out of the intricate matching hairstyle all the bridesmaids wore. Tendrils of her hair danced around her face, and in that color, she reminded me of our dance night, so much it hurt. The possibility of that evening. Of what it could have been. It slammed into my chest all at once. I wasn't enough for her then. Maybe I could be now.
She did the toe-squishing thing into the entryway carpet, the second her bare feet hit the rug in our room. She dumped her shoes and tugged at the hundreds of bobby pins holding up her hair. It would be a miracle if she wasn't still finding those for the next two weeks.
I stood only a few feet away, watching her work. Her fingers deftly sliding through her curls. More and more of her hair slipped out, and I couldn’t help myself anymore. She jumped before glancing over her shoulder at me. My focus was fixed on her hair, the way the curls sank and caressed her neck as I slid more of the pins out. I knew if I didn’t stay focused on the task at hand, there’d be nothing keeping me from pushing her against the wall and tasting every inch of her. Our hands brushed against each other as we moved through her hair, but we kept going. Each touch like a spark, trying to rekindle something that died a long time ago. Only it wasn’t dead. The simmer was there, and it nearly brought me to my knees.
"Thanks." She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Almost shy, like she’d been back at the high school dance.
"No problem, Frankie. Thanks for letting me crash here."
"No problem." She parroted back to me. The final pin came out. I ran my hands through her hair. That shit had to weigh a ton. She shivered as my fingers sank into her hair, skimming over her scalp. That had to be pretty brutal on her.
She let out a moan and my cock was suddenly aware of what exactly I’d tried to distract myself from.
"Do you need help with your buttons?" My lips so close to her ear that it ruffled her hair, but she didn't step away. Didn't whip around me and tell me to back off.
"That would be great. It took two of the bridesmaids to button each of us into these things, so I'll definitely need some help." She let out a nervous laugh.
She lifted her hair over her shoulder, resting her hand on the small entry way table and exposing her neck and shoulders to me. I bit back a groan as my fingers brushed against the skin at the top of the dress, sliding along her neck and working on the buttons. As I struggled with them, she laughed.
"What the hell kind of buttons are these? It's like some kind of brain game," I said, careful not to rip the dress, although that's precisely what I wanted to do. I finally got one free and then another, figuring out the best way to do it. My hands travelled down her back, undoing one after another once I got the hang of it. Her skin running under my fingers like silk. Like opening a present on Christmas morning, more of her delicious body was revealed to me with each slip of a button. My knuckles running down her spine as she licked her lips. I was glad I wasn’t the only one affected.
She peeked up at me in the mirror in front of her, but I tried to keep my eyes on the task at hand. Short glances were all I allowed myself. The picture framed in the mirror was too much of a temptation. The two of us, still standing in the entryway to the suite. Me in my suit and her, a flower with the petals being plucked away one by one. I bent down to get to the buttons lower on her back. The cool air from the room danced along her skin and it pebbled with goosebumps. I wanted to press my lips against her flesh. To nip at her and trace my way all the way back up to her neck.
These were the dreams that ran through my head since the moment she came out of her front door in high school. Since I walked her to her front door and wanted to press her up against the side of the house, or take her ba
ck into my car, anywhere where I could show her just how much I appreciated her.
As I worked on the final button on the small of her back, I stood and caught her eye in the mirror. I froze and she drew in a shuddering breath. Without thinking, I gently traced my fingers along the base of her spine. Frankie sucked in a sharp breath and splayed her hands on the small table in front of the mirror.
My fingers were on her bare skin and not on her arm or even her face, but only inches from her ass. On that intimate spot only a man who knew a woman ever ventured. She'd been well aware of my progress, but she hadn't said to stop. My hands were on her skin right where they belonged. I took a step closer, my chest tight as I tried to restrain myself. Neither of us seemed to want to move too quickly, or the spell over the two of us might be broken.
It was a spell that had my cock so stiff in my pants it throbbed in time with my heartbeat. She was so beautiful, standing in front of me, watching me in the mirror, as I watched her. Somehow seeing each other that way made it easier, but so much more intimate. I could see every breath, every lip bite, every tremble of her body.
The top of her dress dipped down as the final button popped free. She held her hand against her chest to keep the top from dropping any further. Her shoulders and entire back were completely exposed, her legs spread a little. The urge to run my hands up her thighs and explore her pussy made my mouth water. I wanted to bite the exposed spot where her shoulder and neck met. Run my tongue along it and slip my hand under the top of the dress she held up. Too many temptations to get things straight in my mind.
"Thanks, John," she whispered. Standing, staring, making no move to leave. My heart pounded in my chest.
"You're welcome, Frankie," I said, stepping in closer. So close. My shoes touched the backs of her feet. The same ones that had been in sky-high heels wrapped delicately around her ankle and made her long legs look like they went on forever. Those feet. Those legs.
She dipped gently, her body swaying into me, ever so slightly. She was in my pull, and I'd barely touched her. Not touched her like I truly wanted to. But I needed to, and the dreams I'd had were finally going to become a reality. I needed to feel her. I craved it.
I lifted my hands and ran them along her bare shoulders. My fingers danced along her smooth, soft skin. The whole time, I kept my eyes on her in the mirror.
She nibbled on her bottom lip, like she was trying to hold back a moan. That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted her to let it all go with me. I wanted her to give me every moan and gasp. I wrapped my hand across her stomach and pressed her tighter against me.
She sucked in a sharp breath as her body heat soaked through my shirt and suit. I lowered my head, my lips inches from her shoulder. The throbbing, pounding coursed through my body in anticipation of this first touch. My cock was nestled against her ass, and there were no questions about what was happening here. The only question was how far we were going to go.
Her body relaxed into me as I pressed my lips against her warm, soft skin. She smelled like the lavender that blanketed the entire reception. I didn't stop with one kiss. Her hair was over one shoulder, which gave me access to her neck. She tilted her head to the side, giving me even more access. I nipped her, and she let out a small yelp and then I ran my tongue on the spot. Her eyes fluttered in the mirror.
I peppered her skin with kisses, scraping my teeth across her skin. I slid my hand under the top of her dress. She still had it clutched to her chest. The anticipation of finally getting my hands on her this way was heady. My cock was so hard it hurt, and there was only one way to ease that pain.
She reached back and slid her hand along my leg, tugging at the fabric. I pressed my hand down her stomach and teased the top of her underwear, my fingers dipping lower with each pass. Her breath caught, and her eyes stayed on mine in the mirror.
I slid my fingers lower, through the small patch of curls nestled there and tapped against her clit. She grabbed onto my arm, digging her fingers into me. I glanced up from her neck, staring at her in the mirror.
"Do you want me to stop?" My breath came out in pants. She shook her head sharply, like she didn't trust her voice. I didn't blame her. I barely trusted mine. A lazy smile spread across my face that I'd been able to do that to her, make her forget the words she needed. She smiled at me too and reached back to run her fingers through my hair. I kept up my pace as my fingers tapped out a rhythm only the two of us could feel.
Not breaking contact, I kicked off my shoes. She took a deep trembling breath and let the hand against her chest drop, taking her dress with it. My mouth watered as I saw her nipples, tight and hard and ready for my mouth.
"Frankie," I said, warningly. Growling as I unbuckled my belt, my hands wanted to be everywhere at once. Her eyes tracked me and got wide as saucers as I shucked off my pants and boxers. The lazy smile was replaced with something new. A feral glint in my eye that couldn't be denied.
I crowded her, pressing her thighs into the table in front of us. I needed to touch her breasts. I cupped them, toying with her nipples, rolling them between my fingers and pinching them. She let out a moan, and I groaned as I pressed against her.
"Are you screwing with me?" I said, grinding myself against her. I could scarcely believe that this was happening. That I finally had her within my grasp. And her touch and smell and taste were even better than any dream I'd ever had about her.
"Even I wouldn't take a joke this far, John." She shuddered as I nipped her shoulder. She yelped, and I pushed her forward, still keeping her eyes locked on mine. She rested her arms on the small table in front of the mirror. I stroked my fingers down her back, tracing them down her spine.
"John," she mewled. Like she needed this just as much as I did. She needed me. Finally, after all this time.
"I'm savoring the moment, Frankie. I don't want to miss a thing." I slipped my fingers into her underwear from behind and traced along her pussy. She was soaked. If there was a doubt about how much she was into this, it was gone the moment the sound of her wetness hit my ears as I pushed my fingers into her. One finger, then another, stretching her. Opening her for me. She was tight. I closed my eyes and bit back a groan. I needed to be inside her.
She moaned and ground herself back against my fingers. Her hips bucked and she rode my fingers. I snatched my fingers away, not wanting her to come for the first time on them. She glared at me over her shoulder, ready to do battle, but she was transfixed as she watched me suck my fingers. She slid back onto me, my cock teasing her opening.
"The only way you're coming is on my cock." I ripped her panties off and slid my hand up along her chest between her two breasts and wrapped it gently around her neck, dropping my chest onto her back and slammed into her in one thrust.
She made a noise unlike anything I'd ever heard, like she stopped breathing. Pure bliss rolled over me, and I gritted my teeth to keep from coming. Her pussy was so tight, like a silky vise I never wanted to leave. And then she found her breath and her sharp scream was like a bucket of cold water thrown on me.
14
Frankie - Now
The pain was incredible. Like I was being ripped in two. Tears prickled my eyes and I kept my head down, not wanting to meet his gaze in the mirror. I tried to hold back the scream, but I couldn't.
Just breathe through it. It will be fine. He froze immediately. It was done. He staggered back, his cock falling free from my pussy.
"What the hell?" I glanced behind me and saw what he saw. Blood. "You're..." His mouth moved, but no words came out. My secret. Finally, out in the open. "a virgin." I nodded. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"What the fuck, Frankie?" His voice on the edge of anger and disbelief. Shame and embarrassment burned in my stomach.
I snapped upright, not even daring to look at him and raced into the bathroom slamming the door behind me. Stupid. It was a stupid thing to do. I shouldn't have sprung that on him. But I'd been in more than one situation over the years where a guy had gone running
from the room the minute I told him.
I slid my toes along the cool tile, massaging them and running my hands over my ankles. We hadn't even gotten into the territory to talk about those. I sat on the cool tile floor and pulled my knees up, resting my head on them. Tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back.
The dancing. The dress. Him. I got caught up in the moment. It was like I'd imagined back in high school. How I wanted it to be with him. And it was my chance. Everything felt so good, I let it happen. I wanted it to happen. I wanted John to be the one to do it, because after tonight I felt like my carriage was going to turn back into a pumpkin, and I wanted memories of this to be something special.
But being a virgin at nearly twenty-nine wasn't exactly an easy thing to spring on a guy, especially not when I owned a place like I did. I should have told him. I should have warned him, but I didn't want him to run. I didn't want John to be like any of the other guys I'd been close with over the years. The feelings I had for him back in school, during the dance, were there. They'd never left. As much as I wanted to deny it and hated myself for it. It was true.
I pulled myself up and splashed cold water on my face and tried to not burst into tears. My reflection didn’t look any different. I looked like a mess. A deflowered, red-eyed mess. That was the last thing I needed. I grabbed one of the towels and wiped the water from my face. The last bits of makeup on my skin stained the towel. Wiping it all away, embarrassment bloomed in my stomach again. I'd practically thrown myself at him and then raced out the minute he found out what I'd been hiding.
How was I ever going to face him again?
I glanced at the rest of the big, fluffy towels hanging up on the towel rack and considered making a little towel nest of shame for myself and waiting this out. He'd have to leave eventually. The hotel would be okay with me overstaying my booking. I had water.
