WindSwept Narrows: #7 Francine Kendall

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  Donovan sighed, shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and ambled casually to stand beside her.

  “Good view?”

  “It’s amazing!” She breathed excitedly. “You can see all across the water and the lights on the bridge…” She released one hand and pointed, her body swaying and Donovan’s hands up ready to catch her.

  “Let’s go home, Frannie,” he held up his palm, glancing down and glad she was at least wearing shoes. She took his hand and jumped down lightly, lifted her tote from the ground and walked with him to the SUV. “You know…there was a time when that would have disturbed me…”

  “Perhaps you’re evolving,” Frannie teased, laughing and backing against the SUV when he made a grab for her. “Maybe you realize there are things to be upset about and things to merely shrug off…”

  “Maybe…” He put a hand on either side of her, his mouth down and caressing softly over hers. “Maybe it’s magic after all…what games are we playing tonight, Frannie?”

  “I’m sure some will come to mind…” She said breathlessly, watching him close the door and stride confidently to the driver’s side of the car. “You went to talk to Cassidy, didn’t you?”

  “I did. I’ve also talked to Patsy and asked her not to go anywhere alone until we get this guy under wraps,” Donovan told her, glancing over and seeing her nod. “I want…I need…the same promise from you, Frannie. Off campus…”

  “I can give you that unless it conflicts with a patient, Donovan,” she said quietly.

  He was afraid that might be her answer and drove in silence. They were in the large entry way when her phone sounded. She hung up her cloak and opened the pouch at her hip, frowning.

  “No…no, no, no…” Frannie looked up sadly, backing up a few steps toward her tower. “I have to go out…” her head shook when he opened his mouth. “No…it’s May…we have a delivery and I’m her student. I have to change…I’ll come see you in the dining room before I go,” she promised, turned and ran toward the tower, talking to herself all the way.

  His emotions must have betrayed him as he entered the dining area, Alister arching an eyebrow curiously.

  “A problem?”

  “Sorry…good evening, Alister…no…yes…hell, I honestly don’t know,” he finally said, taking his seat and glaring at the table. “The man who assaulted Frannie, attacked his ex-girlfriend this afternoon. If not for the shuttle driver…” He shook his head. “When he was stomping on her, he had the decency to tell her if it wasn’t for Frannie, she’d come back to him and all would be well,” he looked up and met the grim expression. “And Frannie has to go out tonight to a birth…and somehow, I know she won’t let me drive her.”

  “No, she won’t…” Alister looked up when Frannie came into the room.

  Donovan found himself staring. She wore a pair of knee length black boots with a heel, a pair of snug fitting blue jeans and a double layer of tops, one with long sleeves, the other a tank, both tucked into the waist band of the jeans. He had no idea her legs were that long or the rest of her that curved. She’d always been covered in her dresses and aprons.

  “Who are you and what’d you do with my girl?” Donovan asked skeptically.

  “Ha-ha-ha,” she replied, kissed him quickly and went after her cloak. “I have to go. Don’t wait up. I’m sorry, Donovan…I’ll see you when I get in…and I’m always careful, I promise,” she vowed. “Love you, Father…bye.”

  “Call me when you’re finished!” Donovan said loudly. He heard the door closing and pulled his phone out, texting quickly. “I mean it, Frannie! Call me!”

  “I’m guessing you’ve worked out the issue of compatibility?” Alister asked, trying to sound like a casual father.

  “I convinced her I’m not interested in meeting her friends,” Donovan replied flatly.

  “Well…as I was going to tell you,” he reached for the platters of food and began filling his plate. “When Frannie goes out at night, she always wears jeans,” he sighed heavily, sadness in his eyes. “She’s seen far too many sexual assault cases when she worked the emergency room during one of her classes. She made the statement once that if someone wanted her that badly, they would damn well work for it. She also locks her doors when she travels alone. She’ll go straight to where ever May is and if she doesn’t show, May will call me.”

  “I guess I’ll adjust…and pace a lot,” Donovan said quietly, eating and letting Alister distract him with talk of local news.

  “Do you play chess?” Alister asked as the plates were being cleared away and tea brought into the room.

  “I used to,” Donovan admitted, deciding he liked the relaxing ritual that followed their dinners. It was like stepping back in time.

  “Then perhaps we should re-ignite your skills. I have a board set up in my study. There’s also another desk in there, Donovan. If you have work and would rather not be off in your room,” Alister told him, understanding the worry the younger man was going through.

  “I appreciate it, Alister.”

  But distraction was a hard to come by commodity. He made it through three games of chess and even won one. He got up and paced to his room when a call came in for Alister. It wasn’t May but he found himself holding his breath until Alister greeted the colleague on the other end of the line.

  Donovan set up his computer in his room and tried to play the game she’d introduced him to. At ten PM, he was barefoot, his shirt was thrown into the laundry and he was pacing the floor. He checked his phone regularly. She had left it on so he knew where she was, and the position hadn’t changed. It was the only thing that kept him sane, he decided.

  He had the window that opened to the back of the house open slightly. He wanted to hear her car arriving. At ten minutes after eleven, the text came in that she was on her way home. Donovan closed his eyes and dropped the phone next to the computer, his head back in the comfortable chair for a quiet minute. It was fifteen more minutes before he heard her car enter the long driveway in the silence that settled around them at night and he pushed himself up and headed for the kitchen.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Frannie entered the back of the house quietly, her tote on her shoulder and keys dropped into the slot on the side when she was inside. She pushed the door closed with her foot and leaned against the closed door, head back and eyes shut.

  “You should be sleeping,” she chastised mildly, but felt a little glow that he had waited up for her.

  “Too worried about you,” Donovan answered honestly, hands hitched in the pockets of his jeans and watching her. She went to the fridge and pulled a small bottle of something from inside, shook it and opened it. She quickly drained it before setting the glass into the sink and moving to his side. “Dinner?”

  “Chocolate protein drink…it was non-stop from the instant I got there,” she said quietly, looking up into his eyes. Frannie took his palm and led him toward the tower. “We need sleep.”

  “Rough birth?” Donovan found his voice as they climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Right now he didn’t care where they slept, as long as she was with him.

  “May should never have taken that girl as a client. She should have sent her to an obstetrician and let them deal with her,” Frannie said honestly, dropping his palm once she was in the bedroom and turning on the small light that set at her bedside. She left her tote beside the chair, sitting down and unzipping her boots. They were left next to one of the large, old armoires. She had three in the bedroom that acted as her closets.

  Frannie looked up from the floor to see him standing next to the bed and noticed for the first time he was missing some clothing. She stood up slowly and walked to him, taking both his hands in hers.

  “Ask me again on the drive tomorrow and I’ll tell you,” she whispered, leaning into him and inviting his mouth down upon hers. “You didn’t bring your pajamas for the sleep over…but I don’t think we’ll need them.”

  Donovan felt his body react and groaned softly.
“I didn’t bring…”

  “I brought some home from the health center,” she guessed his hesitation and stepped back after one kiss. She turned him slightly and pushed on his shoulders until he was sitting on the edge of the high bed. Frannie stood in front of him and slowly opened the button on her jeans. Her palms came up to stop him when he reached out. “No…not yet…”

  Donovan felt the strands of control begin to break when she pushed the jeans down her legs and stepped out of them, laying them casually on the chair. All the while, giving him an unhindered view of the long legs and panty clad behind.

  “Frannie…I have to warn you…I really don’t have a lot of control right now,” but he remained leaning on the bed, watching the teasing green eyes.

  “I think you underestimate yourself,” she told him confidently, sliding her knee onto the bed at his side and moving behind him. Her hands gently massaged his shoulders for a minute. “It really was sweet of you to wait up for me, Donovan.”

  “This wasn’t my intent, Frannie,” he admitted firmly. “It’s late and…” His voice fell to nothing when she held the shirts she had been wearing in front of his face, letting them fall from her fingers to the floor in front of him. A deep groan broke from low in his chest when he felt the soft lace covered breasts against his shoulders. She was kneeling behind him, leaning against him for a few seconds.

  “It’s not that late…besides…there’s always strong coffee in the morning,” she whispered against the back of his neck, her mouth trailing hot, moist kisses along his shoulder. She slid the straps of her bra down her arm, taking it in one hand and holding it out to the side where he could see it falling in a soft flutter to the floor.

  Donovan couldn’t ignore the sharp edge of her teeth when she found a tender spot between his neck and shoulder. A shudder raced through him when she leaned firmly against his back, her palms caressing over his chest and onto the flat of his ribs and stomach. He felt his lower body give a lurch when her fingers opened the button on his jeans, slim fingertips sliding teasingly just inside the band.

  “Alright…” Donovan groaned and stood up, turning to see her lay back on the bed, delectable full lips pulled into a taut pout.

  “That’s not fair…”

  “The hell it isn’t…a man can only take so much, Frannie,” he shoved the jeans down his legs and joined her on the bed, groaning when her palm circled his hard length of his cock with a stroke that sent fire through his blood.

  He pulled her to him, bodies touching, chests, stomachs and thighs, as his lips found hers. They kissed softly at first, their lips moistening one another's, his hands gently massaging her back. Their lips parted simultaneously, the tips of their tongues greeting one another, dancing, and playing. They kissed deeper, tongues probing, hands exploring, bodies pressed closely together.

  Donovan rolled to his back, carrying her over him and giving his palms free reign along the curving woman. Her hips pressed hotly along his erection, stroking and rotating while her palms framed his face. She broke their kiss, her head up and eyes closed when his palms moved down the slender column of her back to firmly grasp the rounded behind.

  “I had no idea the curves you were hiding beneath those dresses,” he whispered, his palms moving to her waist, lifting her slightly until he could capture one taut pink nipple between his teeth. He tipped her to the side, groaning when she lifted her leg, toes brushing along the back of his calf.

  His palm stroked down her side, onto her hip and down the length of her thigh. Her body moved teasingly against his, firmly pressing and arching to capture his hardness in the soft curls between her thighs. His fingers moved between them, gliding through the downy softness, over the sweet spot that brought a harsh gasp from Frannie. He felt her nails in his shoulders where her hands were, his body hardening a little more when he raised his head to peer into her eyes as he touched her, drawing the hot dew through the center and over the swollen nub.

  Frannie sent both her hands into the hair at the back of his head, pulling his mouth to hers to swallow the broken gasps shattering her control. His fingers stroked along the swollen edges, cupping her gently before sliding one finger upward, gliding into the hot center and making a slow circle before a second finger was added, feeling, pressing, seeking.

  “Donovan!” Frannie whispered frantically when he stopped touching and reached for the nightstand where she’d left the foil packets.

  “Hold on…a minute…” He growled, fumbling with the packet until he was sheathed, his fingers back to stroke and arouse at the same time his tongue drew a slow circle around one nipple, her chest arched demandingly. His teeth scraped over the taut, sensitive bud and he was sure she had drawn blood on his shoulders as she exploded in his hands. He felt her body tensing, felt the muscles inside her clenching him with powerful convulsions.

  Donovan groaned and moved between the legs she parted for him, his body slowly making the foray into the seething center. He could feel the fading ripples surrounding him, the tightness sending a slightly panicked message to his brain even as her hips raised to meet him; arched to invite him deeper. He felt her nails raking down his back, his hands moving to her hips and around behind her, pulling her hard against him and letting her take all of him in a firm, hard thrust.

  Frannie knew the fullness, the tension as the final waves of her orgasm swept through her. She lifted her legs, the strong hands on her behind pulling her closer. She flexed those mysterious internal muscles, the sound of his groans a sign that she was doing something very right for them both.

  He moved carefully at first, slowly stroking through the hot feminine core. He intended to go slowly until she pushed for more, until her muscles clamped down on him and continued pulsing. Through the torrent sea of passion came the husky male sounds of ecstasy, her name exploding with a hunger that he knew would never be quenched.

  Frannie glanced through slightly glazed vision to see that they had managed to fog the windows of the tower. Her palm rose lazily from the bed to stroke gently over his head, his arms shaking slightly from the stress of holding him from falling upon her. She met the sparkling blue eyes when he lifted his head with a soft smile, a tiny wince crossing her features when he pulled away and went into the bathroom. Against the protests, she moved to the window side of the bed, blankets tucked warmly around her. She watched him striding to the bed, his boxers pulled up his legs before he climbed in beside her.

  “You’ll stay with me,” Frannie whispered through a yawn, sliding against him and cuddling down.

  “I belong here,” Donovan said firmly, sleep sweeping them both into the night. There was no disturbance, no nightmare that could take him away from her side, he remembered thinking before sliding into sleep.

  ****

  He listened to the smothered groan, her face in the pillow a few seconds after the music began coming from the player on her nightstand. Not even lack of sleep was going to bother him today, he decided, keenly remembering how he lost his boxers sometime during the early morning.

  He reached for her in the darkness, her body soft and warm against his; her response sweet and potent at the same time. She lay flat on her stomach, hands holding the pillow over her head. He rolled to his side, his palm gliding down the curve of her spine to the fullness of her behind.

  “Oh, god…it can’t be morning…” Frannie lifted her head, squinting at the clock with another groan.

  “I would love to lie to you and tell you it isn’t…” Donovan dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “But it is…”

  “Okay…resolute…determination…” Frannie threw the blankets off and burst upright, sitting on her knees and inhaling deeply.

  Donovan was positive he moved just in time to avoid the blonde explosion that now knelt like a slender, naked fairy about ready to spread her wings and fly off. He leaned on one elbow and just stared. She brought both hands to her face, rubbing briskly and raking the wild curls from her face.

  “I regretfully…” Donovan
tossed the blankets over and reached for his boxers and jeans. “Have to shower and get some breakfast…and a ton of coffee,” he watched her nod and stride into the bathroom, the sound of water the next thing he heard before leaving the tower and heading to his bedroom.

  He was working on a second cup of coffee with a healthy plate of eggs and ham when Frannie wandered in wearing her glasses and frowning at the text in her hands. She was wearing a pale violet dress today, stylish ankle boots peeking out when she walked. She set the book and glasses on the table and looked up with a pair of crossing green eyes.

  “Good morning, Father,” she smiled and went to the juice, pouring a large glass and draining half of it before refilling it and sinking into her chair.

  “G’morning, Francine,” he looked over at her with a nod. “You’re looking quite lovely this morning. Did the birth go smoothly?”

  “When people ignore your instructions, things rarely go smoothly,” She answered with a shake of her head. “But despite that, the baby was healthy and a chubby little boy.”

  “Good…I found those books you were interested in and set them in my office,” Alister closed the newspaper and set his glasses on top.

  “Oh, drat…” She looked at Donovan and was on her feet moving toward the door. “Be right back…” She ran off to find her cloak and tote, grumbling as she went.

  “See you tonight, Alister. Tell her I went to warm up the SUV,” Donovan drained the cup in his hand and left the dining area, the sound of the door next.

  “Alright…got my things…” She looked up from buttoning the cloak around her shoulders.

  “He’s warming the car, dear,” he stood up and walked toward her. “I’m off to school…be careful, Francine.” He kissed her forehead lightly, accepting her nod as she left the house.