Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” begins playing and Porter’s pace slows to echo the tempo in perfect synchronization. Again, not a traditionally romantic song but somehow it’s perfect.
He releases my legs and lowers his body, so his chest is pressed against my breasts. His forearms are pushing into the bed around my head, trapping me inside his cage of muscular, tattooed arms. I can’t think of anything any sexier. But then one of his hands leaves its place beside my head. It follows the length of my arm until he finds my hand. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes. I squeeze back in response, and he brings my hand to his mouth for a kiss. It feels so romantic, a gesture of affection.
The song reaches the crescendo, and Porter moves our clasped hands above my head and pumps faster. He presses his forehead to mine, and his breath increases. A grunt/groan/moan accompanies the last few thrusts, but it’s the last one I love hearing the most. “Uhhh… Frankie.”
Hearing my name on his lips while he’s coming is a special kind of thrill.
He pulls out slowly, rolls off of me, and lies on his back. His breathing has slowed but deepened. “Oh fuck. That was the best lunch break I’ve ever had.”
Porter reaches for my hand, bringing it to his mouth for another kiss. “Thank you for letting me be the one.”
I didn’t do anything but lie there, but that seemed to be what he wanted. “Was it good for you?”
“Baby, calling that good would be an insult to your pussy.”
“You love saying that word, don’t you?”
“Pussy?”
“Yes.”
“I love everything about pussy. Not just saying the word. Does that bother you?”
“Depends.”
“Upon?”
“If you want my pussy, you can have it whenever you want it. But you can’t have anyone else’s. I’m not going to play that game. And if that’s going to be a problem then we need to only be boss and intern.”
Porter rolls and climbs on top of me. He grabs my wrists and pushes my hands over my head. He bites my bottom lip and tugs on it. “Same goes for you, Frankie. If you want my cock, you can have it whenever you want it. But you can’t have anyone else’s.”
“Don’t want anyone else’s.”
“Okay then. I think this is settled.”
9
Porter Beckman
“I wanted you to try something different, so I got the Mexican quinoa and creamy butternut squash linguine with fried sage. Both of them are good takeout dishes.”
“Hmm… I can’t choose. Do you want to split them?”
“Sure.”
I divvy out portions of each entree onto two plates.
“I’ll get drinks while you’re doing that. What do you want?”
“I always drink water with meals.”
“Me too.”
We sit at my bar, and Frankie is wearing red lace panties and one of my black Iron City T-shirts. Sexy as fuck. “Seeing you like that makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and take you to my bed again.”
“I might say yes to that if we hadn’t been gone from the brewery for so long.”
“I know we need to get back… but I’d really love to fuck you again.”
“Pace yourself. I don’t want you to tire of me before September.”
“Not possible.”
“Well, let’s not overdo it just in case.”
My phone vibrates, and my heart speeds when I see who it is. “It’s my mom. I’m sorry, but I really need to take this.”
“Of course you do. Don’t apologize for that.”
“Hey, Mom. Everything go okay?”
“Much better than expected. The infusion was completed about an hour ago, and I feel great. Better than I have in weeks.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Something feels off to me. I shouldn’t feel so good. The chemo is supposed to make me tired and nauseous. I’d phone the nurse, but it would sound stupid to call because I feel good.”
“Frankie is here with me right now. Would you want me to ask her if she knows what that means?”
“That would be wonderful.”
I take the phone away from my mouth. “My mom’s chemo finished infusing about an hour ago. She says she feels good. Too good. Better than she does on a good day and it’s making her worry something is wrong.”
“I’m sure they pre-treated her with steroids before her treatment.”
I bring the phone back to my ear. “Frankie thinks they pre-treated you with medication. Did they give you something before the chemo?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure what it was.”
I nod to Frankie.
“She’ll be fine today and probably get tired tomorrow evening.”
I take the phone away from my ear and hit mute. “She’s scared and confused. Do you mind talking to her?”
“I don’t mind.”
I pass my phone to her. “Hello, Mrs. Beckman. This is Frankie.”
She smiles, and I wonder what my mother said to elicit that lovely expression.
“I don’t mind at all. What I was explaining to Porter was that I believe they gave you a dose of steroids before your chemo to boost your energy level. The steroid is why you feel so good right now. It makes you a little hyper sometimes, so you might not be able to sleep tonight. A Benadryl an hour or two before bedtime won’t hurt a thing.”
Frankie is silent for a moment before continuing. “I suspect it’s different for everyone, but my mom always started getting tired the next day. Usually around five, depending upon what time her infusion completed. Occasionally the malaise would wait until the following morning. My mother never had problems with nausea and vomiting, but her doctor was generous with meds to prevent that.”
Frankie motions for me to eat.
I shake my head. “Not without you.”
Frankie takes the phone away from her ear and hits mute. “Eat. You need to keep up your strength.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She takes a small bite here and there as she talks to my mom. Twenty minutes later, they’re still talking. And Frankie looks content to keep it up all day. She doesn’t appear the least bit annoyed.
I can see that this conversation won’t be ending anytime soon.
I call out, “Mom, we’re on our lunch break. We’ve gotta go back to work.”
Frankie giggles, and I know my mother probably called me a shit-ass since that’s her favorite name for me.
“It was lovely talking to you too. You’re welcome to call me anytime you like.”
She ends the call. “My mom didn’t want to say goodbye to me?”
“I don’t think so… shit-ass.” Frankie cackles. “Ah, a mother’s love.”
“I take it that your mom doesn’t have an adorable nickname like shit-ass for you?”
“She has some, but none of them are as good as that.”
“You’d love my mother.” And she would love you.
“I can tell just by talking with her that I would.”
“As much as I hate it, we really need to get dressed and head back to the brewery.”
“I know. The longer we’re gone, the more people are going to talk.”
We’re redressing when Frankie leans closer to the dresser mirror. “I’m going to kill you, Porter Beckman.”
“Why? What’d I do?”
Frankie spins around and walks toward me. “Look at what you did. You put hickeys all over me.”
Well, shit. “I’m sorry.”
She pulls the V of her shirt downward. “Look at this purple one on the top of my titty.”
I shouldn’t have been so careless. But damn if I don’t love seeing my marks on her.
“Do you have any makeup with you?”
“A little powder.”
“Try covering the ones on your neck with that. And if it doesn’t work, let your hair down.”
“I left wearing a topknot. People are going to suspect something went down if I c
ome back with my hair looking different.”
“Leave your hair up so they can see my hickeys, and they’re not going to suspect anything. They’re going to know something went down. Pun intended.”
“Shit-ass.”
Frankie leaves the bedroom and comes back with her purse. She dips her finger into the powder and then dabs it on top of the purplish-red marks. “What do you think?”
“Better but you need to take your hair down. Suspicion would be preferable over confirmation.”
“You’re right.”
I go to her and wrap my arms around her from behind. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m not mad.”
She has the power to make me forget reason. “I lost myself in you. Close wasn’t close enough. Even when I was buried balls deep, I wanted to be deeper inside you.”
“I know. I felt the same.”
“When can I see you again?” I can already tell that one hit isn’t going to be enough.
“I don’t know. When do you want to see me again?”
“Tonight.”
“That soon, huh?”
“You don’t want to see me tonight?”
“I do, but it feels a little risky. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do if my dad knows I left with you and stayed gone for over two hours. It feels like I’m asking for trouble if I don’t go home after work.”
“You think we need to lie low for a little while?”
“I don’t think it’s a terrible idea.”
“I need to know how long it’s going to be before I can have you again.”
“Three days?”
“Fuck no.” I won’t make it that long.
“Two doesn’t throw anyone off our trail.”
“Well, neither does three. All we really accomplish is three days of sexual frustration.”
“I don’t think we have to make that decision right now. We need to see what kind of damage is done first. See who says what.”
That makes sense. “I agree.”
“So we’re leaving here not knowing when we’ll be together again?”
“Correct.”
“I don’t like that at all.”
“I don’t either, but we’re secret lovers. It is what it is.”
At least we hope we’re still a secret.
* * *
I look up when I hear the three soft taps on my office door. “Just wanted to stick my head in and say bye before I go.”
I motion with my hand for Frankie to come into my office. I wait until she’s close to ask the question on my mind all afternoon. “Everything okay when you got back?”
I dropped her off and waited in my truck a good fifteen minutes before coming in. I know people aren’t stupid, but it would probably look bad for both of us to return together at almost three o’clock.
“I think so. Molly wasn’t at her desk when I came in. No one has said anything to me except my dad. He believes we just missed each other at lunch. I think we dodged a bullet.”
Hearing that makes me feel like we have a get-out-of-jail-free card that we haven’t used yet.
I get up and go to the door, shutting and locking it.
“Porter… we got lucky today, but we shouldn’t push it.”
“It’s a quarter after five. Anyone working in the office is always out of here at five on the dot. We’re alone.”
“My dad never leaves before five thirty.”
“Don’t worry. He’s in the warehouse.”
Her arms go up and around my shoulders as I pull her into my embrace. Our kiss is gentle but also filled with passion. Makes me want to take her to the sofa and do bad things, but I can tell that she’s too nervous for that. “I just needed to kiss you again and make sure you’re okay before you go.”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you sore?”
“Yes, but in a good way.”
My chest swells a little knowing that I’m the one who fucked her sore. And took her virginity. It’s mine. I own it forever.
“I don’t think we have to wait to see each other again, but I do think we need to be smarter about it.”
“Agreed.”
“I want you to stay with me Friday night. Could you work out using your visit to Tuscaloosa as an alibi?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Oliver has asked me to help him move on Saturday. He wants me there around eleven. We’d get to spend the morning together too.”
“That would be good. Maybe we could sleep in a little.”
“We’ll need to sleep in after I finish doing everything I have planned for you.”
“If whatever you’re planning is going to result in an orgasm like the one you gave me today then count me in.” She sucks her bottom lip. “Mmm… I’m still thinking about that.”
This girl has no idea how good I’m going to make her feel. “You’ll have one orgasm right after another. You’re going to beg me to stop because you can’t take any more.”
“How in the world am I supposed to function all week with a promise like that?”
“You’ll need to find time to sneak away with me so I can get you by until Friday.”
“You sound like my drug dealer.”
“Not your drug dealer. Your drug.”
I can tell Frankie that I’m her drug, but I already know it’s bullshit.
I’m the one who wants her. I’m the one who needs her. I’m the one who craves her.
One fuck and I can feel her becoming my addiction.
One hit. Isn’t that how all addictions begin?
10
Frankie Dawson
As per every other morning, I find a white chocolate mocha waiting for me on my desk. This morning there’s a chocolate croissant accompanying it. “Best boss ever.”
My mocha, croissant, and I trek down the hall to Porter’s office. “Mind if I have breakfast in here with you?”
“I’d love that.”
I hold up the croissant. “You spoil me.”
“Because it’s such a beautiful thing to see you smile.”
The corners of my mouth curl upward.
“See? There it is. That smile makes my day.”
I wonder if he knows that hearing him say things like that to me makes my year. “Then it’s too easy to make your day.”
“It’s too easy to make you feel spoiled.”
“That’s what you get with a girl who grew up with so little. I’m easily impressed.”
“I’m about to spoil you big time.”
“Ooh… I can’t wait to hear this.”
“I got an email from the Austin Graphic Expo, and there are more openings available. I want to take you.”
Going to an expo as big as Austin’s is like a dream to me. “Porter… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll go with me.”
His eyes are pleading for me to say yes. Does he really think I’d consider turning down this kind of opportunity? “Of course I’ll go with you.”
“Is this going to be okay with your parents? That you’re going out of town with your boss for four days?”
Porter has a point. My mom and dad might think it’s completely inappropriate for me to travel with Porter.
“I’m not sure.”
“Would you like me to handle talking to Scott?”
I doubt I could bring it up to my dad and not turn a bright shade of red. “I think it would come off more professionally if you handled it.”
“You’re okay with me fudging the truth a little?”
“I believe we’re already doing that a little every day.”
“As long as we’re fudging the truth, I might as well tell you about an important decision I’ve made.”
“Concerning?”
“Your internship. You’re my intern, and I’ve given you too much responsibility. You need more supervision.”
My heart sinks; I thought Porter was pleased with my work. He told me he was. Has he been lying to make m
e happy? “You don’t think I’m doing a good job?”
“You’re doing a wonderful job. And I’d like you to continue doing a wonderful job under closer supervision. It’s difficult to do that when you’re in a room down the hall. I want to relocate your workspace in my office.”
I see where he’s going with this now. “You want me at your disposal.”
“Yes. I want you at my disposal. We don’t have that long together before you leave. I’d like to enjoy you as much as possible.”
This could cause problems with some people. “And what do you think everyone is going to say about your moving me into your office?”
“You’re doing very important work for Iron City. Labels. The website. Merchandise. No one is going to question me for wanting to make sure you’re doing a stellar job on key elements that drive the success of this company.”
“I’m your intern. It isn’t my job to question your decisions.”
“I’ll move your things over this weekend. When you return on Monday, you can expect to be relocated in here with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Something else… we have an appointment at six on Friday. Can you manage to pull off not going home after work?”
An appointment? “Sure. Do you mean we have a reservation?”
“No. It’s an appointment.”
I’m stumped. “Where? And for what?”
“It’s a surprise.”
No way he’s putting that kind of information out there and then not telling me what it means. “I’m going to be crazy by Friday wondering what in the world we’re doing.”
Porter puts his palms together and wiggles his fingers. “Hmm… whatever could it be?”
“You’re so mean.”
His eyes move to the door and widen. “Scott…”
Shit. I hope he didn’t hear any part of our conversation.
I twist in my seat. “Hey Daddy.”
Dad enters the office and holds up my pink lunch bag. “You forgot your lunch.”
“Thank you. I would have been missing that in a few hours.” Or maybe not, depending on Porter’s lunch plans for today. I could stand a little more of what was on the menu yesterday.
“I’m glad you came by, Scott. I was just discussing something with Frankie. Iron City has two spots reserved at the Austin Graphic Expo. I thought I’d have a full-time assistant when I made the booking a year ago. Iron City will have to eat the registration fee if I don’t bring a second person. I’d like to take Frankie. Of course, Iron City will cover all of her expenses.”
Southern Girl Series: Bohemain Girl, Neighbor Girl & Intern Girl Page 58
