Chapter 40ROBBIE
CHAPTER 40
ROBBIE
“ Y ou really didn’t have to wait around for me,” Fran says as she shrugs on her coat.
My jaw ticks. Because yes, I did. Even with me around, Tadd has been looking at her like she’s a piece of fucking meat. Something to claim. Like hell I’d leave her here with him. Fran is tipsy, and the guy’s a fucking predator, just waiting for his time to strike; I can see it in his eyes even now as he approaches.
“Leaving already?” Tadd questions.
Fran’s eyes go wide as she turns. I step around her, putting myself between the two of them, looking at Tadd like he’s nothing more than a piece of gum wedged into the sole of my Air Force Ones.
“Hey Chad. How’s it going, bud?”
His smile is cold and bitter. “It’s Tadd, and you know it is.”
I arch a brow, folding my arms across my chest, not moving.
Taking a sip from the glass of liquor in his hand, Tadd offers me a bored once over before craning his neck to look past me. “Don’t forget we have a nine a.m. tomorrow, sweetheart .”
I huff a laugh, void o f humor, stepping up to him until we’re toe to fucking toe. My hands ball into fists and my jaw clenches, my face mere inches from his as I stare down at him, seething. “Call her that again. I fucking dare you.”
His smile lingers, but he says nothing, just meeting my stare with one of his own.
“Come on.” Fran tugs on my hand. “Let’s just go.”
I don’t want to break first, but I do, only because she asked me to. With a snide grin, I offer him a wink.“Sure thing, baby,” I say, turning to Fran and slinging my arm around her shoulders. I meet Tadd’s eyes again as I say, “Let’s go home to bed.”
Fran and I haven’t spoken much since leaving her event. We sat in the back of a cab, each of us staring out of the windows as the city whizzed by in a blur. It wasn’t until we were pulling up outside my apartment building that I realized I’d been dragging my thumb over the back of her hand the whole time. It’s like I need to touch her. When she’s next to me, I can’t not touch her.
By the time we make it up to my apartment, my head and my heart are a fucking mess because I want to fuck her. But I also just want to hold her, be with her. I’ve never had this dilemma before, and I’m not sure if I like it or hate it. It’s confusing, and it’s never been this way.
“You hungry?” I ask, helping her take off her coat.
She shakes her head.
“Thirsty?”
“I could use some water.”
My hand feels empty without hers wrapped around it, and oh my fuck. I’m a goner. I shake my head at myself as I pull open the fridge door, because what the hell, Mason. Get your shit together.
Grabbing two bottles of water, I turn only to stumble over my own feet when I see that, not only has she followed me to the kitchen, but she’s perched that fine ass of hers on the island, waiting for me. Why does she look so good sitting there, in my kitchen, on my island?
I clear the bubble that’s latched itself to the back of my throat, handing her one of the bottles, and she takes it, uncapping it and bringing it to her lips. Man, even her throat is sexy as it works with a swallow. Since when has the simple act of drinking water been so hot?
Standing in front of her, just shy of touching, I take a few mouthfuls from my water, my eyes meeting hers as I do, which is when I realize how heavy and thick the air feels between us. Is this what they mean when they say the tension was palpable, because it’s almost like I can feel it, thrumming between us, like the air is a rubber band pulled so tight it’s about to snap.
“You gonna sleep over?” I ask, my voice cracking like a fucking teenager.
Fran stares into my eyes, her lips curling into a shy smile as she nods.
I swear I breathe a sigh of relief. If she’d said no, I’m not sure I’d have been able to stop myself from pleading with her.
Taking the bottle of water from her, I place it onto the counter, and then, nudging her knees apart, I move between her thighs. Tucking a finger beneath her chin, I lift her face up so she has nowhere to look but my eyes. We’re so close that I’m sure I can hear the erratic thrum of her heart. Or maybe it’s mine. I’m not sure.
“You good?”
She nods again, and I lean in impossibly closer, dragging my nose along her jaw, breathing her in. She smells like fucking vanilla and raspberries and the long-forgotten hint of tequila; it’s a scent that makes me weak at the knees.
My lips skate to the skin at the base of her neck, the one spot I know drives her wild, and I lick her there. Slowly, I trail my tongue over the spot, licking it like I’d lick her pussy. Her head falls to the side, offering me better access, her hand s grasping the front of my shirt, holding me right where I am.
“Can I ask you something?” I murmur against her skin
“You can ask me anything. Always,” she whispers.
Her words wrap around my heart, clenching the life out of it. I squeeze my eyes shut, exhaling raggedly, resting my forehead against hers and closing my eyes. “This isn’t fake anymore, is it?”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I’m scared I might’ve just messed up, but then she shakes her head, and I release the breath I was holding. Pulling back, I cup her jaw with both my hands, finding her gaze again, and suddenly the invisible rubber band in the air between us snaps, and I can’t stop myself from claiming her lips.
Fran grips my shirt like it’s her lifeline, her lips parting as she welcomes all that I have to give her. My tongue licks into her mouth, slow yet deliberate, desperate to taste all of her. She whimpers into our kiss, her hands moving up and pushing my cap off my head, fingers tangling with the lengths of my hair, and I know she’s just as frantic as I am.
I move a hand down to her thigh, sliding up the hem of her dress, my fingers dancing over her soft skin all the way before stopping at the edge of her panties. I loop my finger into the elastic, and Fran moans against my tongue, lifting enough for me to tug the scrap of delicate material down her legs, shimmying them all the way without even breaking our kiss.
Moving in even closer, she sucks on my tongue when my fingers skate up the insides of her thighs, stopping at her hot, slick center. She’s wet already, and I love how reactive she is, how turned on she gets with me. Fran loves sex. And I love being the man to give her exactly what she wants and needs. And damn. There’s that stammer in my chest again.
My thumb presses against her swollen clit and she groans, her head tipping back and giving me easy access to her throat. I press a little harder, circling the bundle of nerves as I kiss, lick, and suck her skin, and in return, she spreads her legs a little wider and tugs on my hair.
“Fuck me, Robbie,” She pants as I rub her fervently. “Please.”
“Not here,” I growl against her throat, tearing myself away from her to meet her hooded eyes that are alive with lust. “I want you in my bed.” I kiss the corner of her lips. “You belong in my bed.”
Fran’s kiss-swollen lips part on a soft gasp, and I don’t blame her; I can’t believe I just said that either. But I did. And I meant every fucking word. She belongs in my bed.
Ducking down, I tuck my hands under her thighs, hitching her up off the counter.
“No, Robbie, put me down,” she objects with a giggle, trying to push me in my chest. “I’m too heavy. I don’t want to be responsible for you being benched with an injury.”
“I got you, baby,” I chuckle, gripping her a little tighter so she’s forced to wrap her legs around me. I hate how she’s so conscious of her weight all the time. She’s perfect the way she is. And screw her for doubting my strength.
Fran’s arms wrap around my neck, clinging onto me as I carry her into my bedroom. With a soft kiss to her lips, I deposit her onto my bed and stand in front of her, eyes boring into hers as I unfasten the buttons on my shirt. She sits there, staring up at me, her tits heaving with each breath, gaze dragging over my chest and stomach, zeroing in on my hands as I unfasten the clip on my pants, allowing them to gape open. My dick strains impatiently against my boxers, and she licks her lips.
“Like what you see, Keller?” I grin.
She bites down on her bottom lip and nods.
“Take off your dress.”
Standing, Fran pushes the dress off her shoulders, down her arms, all the way to her waist, and fuck me, she’s not wearing a bra. And I don’t know why, but the first thing I think of is fucking Tadd and how she’d been braless with that creep lurking around all night. Had he noticed? Had he seen her nipples pebble through the soft black fabric? My fists clench at the thought, but then Fran continues pushing the dress down over her hips, all the way until it’s pooling around her feet, and my mind is suddenly void of everything but Fran fucking Keller.
My eyes roam, taking in every part of her. The way her stomach dips and her hips flare. She’s hands down the most beautiful woman. She’s… everything. Everything and more. And I like to think that I was gone for Fran Keller when she let me come inside her the other day in my car. But the truth is, I think I’ve been down bad for this girl since the moment she came back into my life.
Fran slides my shirt off my shoulders, her fingers skating down my sides and pushing my pants and boxers down while her eyes remained fixed on mine. She steps closer, almost flush against me, and I cup the sides of her luscious tits, my thumbs grazing her nipples and causing her to shudder beneath my touch.
I lean down, claiming her mouth again, urging her back onto the bed. Our lips remain intact as I crawl over her, flanking her body with mine, massaging one of her breasts in my hand before rolling the peaked nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I swallow her needy moans, pulling away from her lips only to press a kiss to her shoulder. Peppering my lips down her chest, I lick a line to her other nipple, sucking it into my mouth.
“Oh my God.” Fran sighs. “Please don’t stop.”
I continue my assault on her tits, pushing her breasts together and licking from one nipple to the other, nipping, biting, grazing her milky skin with my teeth until she’s writhing uncontrollably beneath me. I’d love to fuck her tits. I wonder if she’d let me. Who am I kidding? Of course, she’d let me. She’s more of a freak than I am. But not tonight. Tonight, I need to be inside her. To feel her.
“I need you,” she whispers, tugging on my hair.
Forcing myself away from her tits, I look up at her, her eyes so full of desire, and it’s enough to bring me to th e very edge. I press a soft kiss to her lips. “Do you want me to get a condom?”
She shakes her head. “No. I want you inside me. I want to feel you. I want to be with you, Robbie. Only you.”
Shit. Her words catch me off guard, and I pull back to get a good look at her.
“Only me?” My voice cracks with an unfamiliar emotion I wasn’t prepared to feel as I search her eyes.
“Only you.”
I swear I feel my heart swell in my chest, taking up so much of the space that I find it hard to breathe right now. I slam my lips against hers in a kiss so full of something I’ve never experienced before, it’s heady and dizzying.
Lifting her knee, I open her a little wider, moving my hips and pressing the head of my cock against her center. And in one smooth motion, I sink into her, all the way, pausing to adjust.
“Oh, Robbie,” she utters, her voice tight and broken.
“You feel so good, baby,” I groan. “Your pussy fits me perfectly. So tight, so wet, so fucking hot. Like my cock was made just for you.”
She moans at my words, her nails dragging down over my shoulders, my back, all the way to my ass where she grips me tight, urging me to move. And I do move. I pull almost all the way out before pushing straight back in.
With every thrust of my hips, Fran meets me with fervor, wrapping her legs around me as I drive up and into her, my arms locked on either side of her head, caging her in, my tongue dancing with hers. We’re so close. Closer than I have ever been with any woman. And it’s like nothing I’ve felt before. Sex has never been like this. This is perfection. Like being with Fran is where I’m meant to be.
“Robbie, I’m already so close,” Fran sobs, pulling away from our kiss, her head sinking back into the pillows.
I bury my face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in, kissing and licking and sucking her skin. “So fucking perfect.”
When her pussy flutter s, her walls clench around me, her back arches off the bed, and I know she’s right there on the edge, ready to fall over. I lift up, pulling her knee higher, driving into her and hitting her so deep, her tits bouncing with every determined thrust.
“Ah, shit, I’m coming,” she chokes out.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes meet mine as her orgasm tears through her, and I know in this very moment, from this day forth, I am officially ruined for any other woman.
I continue ruthlessly, my balls tightening as white-hot bliss ignites and sears through my veins.
“Fuck.” My body shudders and then I still, deep inside Fran’s perfect pussy, my cock pulsing. “I’m coming, baby. I’m fucking… coming. Oh fuck. Shit.”
My release takes everything out of me, and it’s like a fucking awakening. Depleted, I sink down onto Fran, careful not to crush her. But she holds me there, tight, as if she loves the feel of my body on hers, like she can’t bear to let me go.
Our breaths are ragged, bodies trembling, skin slick with sweat. I catch a much needed breath, pulling back to look at her, and when I meet her gaze, I feel something wrap around my heart like a vise. Her eyes are dazed in that sated, thoroughly fucked way, but there’s something else—something else that touches me in a place no one has dared venture before. And in this moment, without uttering a single word, I know. I just know.
Fran Keller is it for me. She’s the one. I’m stupidly, head over heels in love. With Fran fucking Keller.