by Haley Jenner
Her and I.
Our bodies. Caught up in our passion. In our strained need to touch.
Hearts excluded.
She moans, my fingers curling up, stroking her roughened sweet spot in soft circles.
The hand in my hair tightens, her core throbbing around my fingers, pulsating against my mouth.
“Close,” she stutters out, lost to the feeling. Neck tipped back, her closed eyes fixate on the ceiling, bottom lip caught cruelly between her teeth.
My lips close around her clit, sucking the coiled nub, the tip of my tongue still dancing up and down.
Her mouth falls open, hand ripping at my hair. A stammering scream tears through the room, my name a groaned whisper trailing the sound.
“Mmmm…” She drops her leg, stepping back to watch me drag the back of my hand across my lips.
Standing brings us face to face, her spent breathing, mine ragged, moving back and forth between us.
Frankie moves first, her hands gliding up my shirt, tentatively skating her fingers up my torso. My shirt moves with her, creeping up inch by inch to reveal my tanned skin to her greedy eyes. She devours every divot of muscle, every crevice cut into my body with hunger.
It’s a strange feeling. To be wanted so fiercely. Women have begged me to fuck them with their eyes, their thirsty stares drinking every inch of me in as I fuck them. But with Frankie it’s different. She looks at me like something more, needing me in a way that strips her control. She’s crazed with her want to worship my body, not with the promise of me doing the same to her.
“Didn’t use a condom last time I fucked you,” I rasp, my shirt tugged over my head to be thrown on the ground without regard.
She only smiles, hands moving to my belt.
“Guessing since you’re not knocked up that you might be on the pill?”
My belt meets the ground in the same way my shirt did.
“You’d think right.”
“Need me to use one this time?”
Tugging at the zipper of my pants she shakes her head. “No. Prefer you didn’t. Boots.” She pays no mind to the conversation, focus fixed on making me as naked as she is.
Sitting my ass on the bed, I tug my boots off. Standing again, I divest myself of my jeans and boxers.
Pressing our chests together, my hand cups her jaw, my lips dropping to hers to lose myself in her mouth. She gives over easily, a hand moving to clutch my wrist.
Twisting her body, I push her onto the bed, my kiss chasing her down. Her pretty ass balancing on the edge, I push her chest as I break my lips from hers. The toned muscle of her calf slides up my leg, over my ass to rest along my waist, pulling me forward.
My thick cock hangs heavily between us, straining to bury inside her. Splayed out beneath me, her toffee skin the perfect contrast to the white sheets framing her body.
Wrapping a large palm around her perky tit, I squeeze, feeling the softness of her flesh. She moans, pushing her chest out, so I pay the same to her other one.
“Hey, Luc?”
My eyes drink her in lazily. “Mmmm?”
“Let’s put that hammer to use, yeah? We’ve been living in a perpetual state of foreplay for months. Time for you to fuck me now.”
A growl rumbles up along my vocal chords, scratching out in a rough cry.
My crazy girl…
“Pussy wants to choke on my cock, baby?”
She nods, lifting her hips in a silent plea.
“So hard for you, Frankie. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m ‘bout to fill you up, sweetheart.”
Impatient, she reaches for my cock, and the laugh in my throat catches as she slides my head through her heat.
A triumphant grin tips her lips up, and without warning, I slam inside her, replacing the smug smile with a wide-open cry.
Her fingers find mine, threading together, palm arching in the same way her back does. The delicate line of her spine curved almost painfully. The bed shakes as she drops back down, her leg tightening around my waist.
Lifting the leg thrown lazily over the mattress, I slide it over my shoulder, opening her up. My cock drops deeper into her body, making her shudder.
The long line of her neck beats with the cries that escape her. All toffee temptation begging for my hand. I give in. Eagerly. My large hand wrapping around the slim column letting her breathe.
I squeeze gently at first and her eyes open in shock, nervous anticipation leaking into the dark pools.
I tighten my hand in time with the powerful drive of my cock.
Her cry stops at my hand, pulsing against the inside of my palm before she attempts to swallow it back down.
Her pussy spasms.
Her nipples harden.
I move like this over and over. Grip and cock in sync, driving her off a cliff of pleasure so high, I know the fall will be chaotic.
She knows it too.
There’s panic in her eyes. The game I’m playing with her body unlike anything she’s felt before. She’s afraid of letting go. Of giving into her base desires and letting me fuck her raw.
Making the decision for her, I power forward again, my hold on her neck so tight there’s a good chance I’ll leave bruises.
Eyes fluttering closed, I feel her struggle to swallow, to breathe. It licks at my spine, and I fuck her harder. Deeper.
“Scream for me,” I grind out, a wicked smile crawling onto my face as she attempts to do just that.
The choked sound coughs from her mouth, a soft rattle following as her body gasps for air. I relax my hold, letting her take a small breath before clamping down again. My cock drives in and out of her body without pause, bruising her from the inside out. Her hand flies to my wrist, and a split second of dread courses over me, worry that I’ve pushed her too far. But she clamps her hand over mine, squeezing even harder.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan out.
Her orgasm hits her like a gunshot; entire body bending up with a force so severe, she looks ready to give into unconsciousness.
I follow only moments after, quick-fired thrusts pushing me over the edge into oblivion. Hand loosening from her neck, I watch her inhale deeply. The red ringed pressure of my fingers tattooed into her skin, expand and contract with her hollow breaths.
Dragging my hand down her chest, I graze my fingers over her hardened nipples feeling her pussy spasm around me. I continue to slide in and out of her body languidly, letting myself prolong the feeling.
“Kiss me,” she invites.
Dropping my weight onto hers, our tongues touch before our lips do, the caress soft. Tongues swallowed by one another’s lips, our kiss is slow. We spend time exploring, tasting. Offering one last drag of my lips against hers, I pull back, smiling down at the sated look softening her features.
“Hey, Crazy Girl.”
“Hiya, Thor.”
Lost in the black pools of her eyes, my chest tightens. It scares me. The way she looks at me. The way I know I’m looking at her.
“Gotta have rules, Frankie.”
She blinks, a steadying breath pulling through her nose before opening her eyes to mine again. “Yeah.”
“Much as I wanna crash out next to you right now, separate sleeping arrangements have to stay. It blurs one too many lines, sleeping together.”
“Okay,” she concedes. “But you’re not gonna tell me I can’t kiss you whenever I want.” There’s a warning to her words that tickles at my lips, threatening a grin. “I like your lips. I want to be able to taste them.”
“Okay,” I readily agree.
Quiet hits for a beat before I swallow down the acid in my throat. I hate myself for the words that I’m gonna say next. But they’re necessary. Imperative in separating what we’re doing to a relationship. “Need you to keep this between the two of us, Francesca. Don’t want anyone reading into this as something that’s gonna morph into more.”
She ducks her eyes, hiding maybe. A hardened fragility looking at me when she eventually lifts them aga
in. “Agreed.”
Chapter Eleven
Frankie
“I’m sorry,” she chokes on her laugh, hands swiping tears from her flushed face. “It still blows my mind that some men send you photos of their cocks. Men you’ve never met. I’m not gonna lie, I thought someone made that up.”
I smile widely, picking my drink up to meet Aubrey’s laughing eyes over the rim of my glass.
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” She takes a swig of her own drink, looking to Darci and Annabelle to make certain they’re as shocked as her.
Which of course, they are; Darci’s cheeks are an adorable shade of pink as Annabelle chuckles, shaking her head in dismay.
“I’m so happy I’m not single,” Darci quips.
Annabelle lifts her soda and lime in mock salute, her chuckle morphing into a full belly laugh.
“I… like what… I mean… do they.... Fuck me. I’m actually speechless.”
“Surely they can’t think that sending you a photo of their dick would make you want to meet them more?” Annabelle queries on a furrowed brow, her brain giving the topic at hand way too much thought.
Nodding her head, Aubrey looks to me to answer.
Shrugging, I purse my lips in uncertainty. “I guess so…. Why else would they do it? You can tell them a mile away,” I continue. “The ones who do shit like that. I actually created a separate email address, for those kind of douchebags, make sure I didn’t even stumble across a dick I most definitely did not want to see. FrankNDick@gmail.”
Aubrey and Annabelle watch me for a beat before both their heads tip back on a loud laugh. The sound echoes through The Shallow and my grin grows into one of contentment. Darci’s laugh is softer, and I waggle my eyebrows at my shy sister, enjoying her happiness.
“Darci, if I haven’t mentioned it recently, loopy sibling is one of my new favorite people. Frankie, babe, I feel like you’re my spirit animal.”
I smile warmly at Aubrey’s words, grateful to feel accepted in their clique. Friendships have never come easily for me over the years. I guess being transient, a nomad even, I never felt the need to try and really connect with people. Why bother when I knew I’d always move on. Until Brandon anyway. Brandon, I stupidly let bury in deep. Him aside, I’ve had closer acquaintances over the years, sure, but nothing solid.
These last past few months though, Annabelle and Aubrey have welcomed me into their lives, into their connection with my sister. I’m grateful for them. For the support they offer, even if they don’t realize.
“If I wasn’t so scandalized and yes, you heard that correctly. Aubrey Dean, scandalized. I’d actually ask to see said inbox.”
I shake my head in the negative. “Trust me, you don’t wanna see. Let’s just say some dicks are…” I twist my lips in thought, trying to pinpoint the right word.
“Gross?” Annabelle interjects helpfully and I nod over at her.
“Totally gross.”
The four of us fall into fits of laughter again and I make myself take in today as a happy one. One of the few moments over the past few months where others have brought happiness to my world.
I find it helps. Counting these moments. Those fleeting points in time where I feel unfiltered happiness. The moments where it doesn’t feel like my life is such a momentous failure.
Counting them helps the realization that these moments are becoming more frequent. Months passed, darkness, loneliness and self-loathing would weigh on me so heavily, I resented life. Not anymore. Counting my good days lets me realize I have more of them than I do sad ones.
“Looking forward to singing tonight?”
I glance toward Annabelle, her eyes watching me cautiously, having read into my silence. Joys of having a pregnant Annabelle around. It means a sober Annabelle. Who seems to have adopted Archer’s knack at reading people, even when they don’t care to be.
“Yeah,” I agree readily. “I am. It’s nice that I’ve found my passion for it again. Music was always such a big part of my life and after too many bad experiences trying to get myself heard, I guess I lost my love for it.”
Earlier laughter forgotten, the three of them watch me sympathetically.
“What happened?” Aubrey asks, and I force out a gust of air.
“I had this one night just before I moved back home where I found myself at an open mic night. Completely spur of the moment. Completely solo. It was probably the best night I’d had in forever. I thought my life was in a good place and I felt alive. Listening to everyone else sing, I was envious, so I found the courage to sing.” I smile, recalling the memory. “It was amazing, feeling the thrill of sharing my gift with like-minded people,” I finish whimsically. “Then my night went to shit,” I sigh. “Turned out to be one of the worst of my life and singing, music, it makes you feel everything. I wanted to avoid that.”
The three of them watch me expectantly, waiting for me to give them more, but my throat feels scratchy, feelings I’ve buried deep seeping up.
“I’m looking forward to hearing you sing,” Darci offers and I lean over to grab her arm and give it a squeeze.
“I wanna hear more about living with Luca,” Aubrey smirks and Annabelle’s eyes widen, her head nodding eagerly.
Considering I’m fluent in the language of Aubrey and Jake’s sex lives, the walls so fucking thin, I have no doubt that Aubrey’s laid down a challenge for me to dish on the turn of events in mine and Luca’s extra-curricular activities.
Laughing silently, I feign nonchalance, bottom lip tipped out in diffidence. “He’s easy enough to live with. Quiet, moody. He’s stolen my dog, which is totally uncool. He thinks I’m a nut, but, meh, most people do.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Aubrey raises an expectant brow. “Anything else, you’d… I don’t know, like to share?”
Arching an eyebrow of my own, I return her smirk. “Our living arrangements may have morphed, slightly, into a bit of heavy touching.”
“Heavy touching,” Aubrey scoffs. “More often than not it sounds like the two of you will break through the wall. He’s got a dirty mouth, our Luca.”
“Ha,” I bark out around a wide grin. “Like you can fucking talk.”
“What can I say? My J-Baby is gifted and knows how to –”
“Use his pierced cock. I get it,” I cut her off, hand held up to stop further details spewing forth.
“Jake’s” —Annabelle gestures to her crotch— “pierced?” she splutters. “Wait,” she shouts, both hands held up in surrender. “I don’t wanna know.”
All eyes move to Jake, on stage, singing. Turning back to one another we burst into fits of giggles once again.
“Shit,” Darci curses. “I’m not going to be able to look at him for years without blushing.”
Aubrey claps her hands in hilarity and I can’t help but laugh.
“Who cares about that? Luca! Babe, you’ve been holding out on us.” Annabelle leans forward, eyes wide with interest.
Panic rises up my throat. I’ve just broken the rules. The promise I made to Luca that was most important to him.
“Guys, this isn’t a thing. In fact, Luc and I agreed to keep it just between ourselves. Neither of us are interested in anything more than roommate with benefits type arrangement. You can’t tell anyone, no husbands can know.” I glare at them, my eyes pleading with them to listen.
“Cross my heart, pinky swear.” Aubrey drags an imaginary zipper across her lips, throwing away her make-believe key. Annabelle and Darci mimic her action and grab the bridge of my nose.
“What are you, like six?”
“Secret’s safe, bitch, spill. We’ve all been dying to know details since he tried it on Annabelle awhile back.”
This statement shocks the smile off my face and I have to force the fluidity of my body, turning toward Annabelle, unease creeping up my spine. I feel an overwhelming sense of… jealousy… of possessiveness toward someone who most definitely would never want to belong to anyone.
I glance a
t the bar the exact moment Luca lifts his head. He winks, turning back to the customer without a second’s pause.
“You and Luca?” I focus back on Annabelle trying in vain to keep my tone conversational and light.
“Noooooo…” She shakes her head, reaching out to grab my arm in reassurance. “Aubrey’s exaggerating. There was harmless flirtation, we danced, once and only to help me forget a particularly horrible moment with Archer.”
She turns to Aubrey, face twisted in a scowl. “Frankie, babe, Annabelle’s telling the truth. Sorry, I didn’t mean to allude to the fact that it was anything… serious,” Aubrey apologizes.
“Oh!” I wave them off uncomfortably. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” I dismiss. “Like I said, we’re just having a bit of harmless fun.”
It sounds like a lie and it most definitely feels like a lie. But the girls let it pass with skeptical, but reassuring smiles.
I’m getting attached. A few weeks of harmless, no-strings sex, that I initiated, and I’ve fallen into his greatest fear. Fuck. I can’t believe, after everything, I’d be that stupid.
“Well, who cares about Luca.” Aubrey pulls me from my self-deprecating thoughts. “There is a fine ass man who’s been checking you out for the last twenty minutes or so.” She raises her eyebrows, indicating toward the bar.
Sitting up straighter, my eyes seek out this mystery stranger and my throat closes the moment my eyes land on the bar.
Aubrey’s right. He is fine. Beautiful even. But this I already know. Intimately.
Brandon quirks a smile in my direction. It’s challenging, sexual and so inappropriately intimate, I feel my skin burn. An index finger glides across his lips, scotch, neat, no ice, held delicately in his free hand.
I was so lost on how empty he seemed to view me the last time I saw him, I never let myself imagine what this moment would feel like. I guess I always assumed he’d be angry. Maybe a little jaded? I did bail. Immediately. Packed all my belongings and hightailed from our home without a backward glance or a word of goodbye. Unless you count the nice large key mark across his sparkly new Audi or the new paint on his apartment walls an appropriate farewell.
