15. Chapter 15
Frankie
“I should fire you.”
The blatant threat didn’t seem to ruffle Sloane’s feathers one bit.
She gathered up another stack of dirty dishes from the deserted pub table and tossed an irritating smirk Frankie’s way.
“But you won’t, and besides, quit pretending you’re not more upset over me kissing Evan than you are about me helping myself to your office. I know you like them.”
Frankie’s gaze narrowed to slits. The tightness in her chest crept up her throat, strangling her.
Watching Sloane’s eye roll and assessing glance made her want to throttle the younger woman.
“If you know,” she growled, then clamped her mouth shut.
Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “Don’t fuck with me, Sloane.
I saw more of your skin last night than I ever wished to.
Not to mention, I still sign your paychecks. ”
“Relax. I didn’t mean it the way you took it.
” Sloane shook her head and headed for the kitchen.
Frankie followed. She’d left the apartment earlier today, knowing there would be plenty of cleanup to help with before the pub opened.
When they arrived in the kitchen, Donnie and Dakota were busy with prep.
Sloane stacked the dirty dishes onto the rack and pushed them through the dishwasher before turning to Frankie, resignation clear in her green gaze.
“I’ve got the worst luck. I swear, every time I like someone, someone else beats me to them.
Coy snatched up Ash before I could work my magic, and—”
“Don’t remind me.” Frankie scowled. She would always regret agreeing to an open relationship with McCoy.
Since Frankie couldn’t ever be a switch, and McCoy had no interest in being a full-time sub, she hadn’t known how else to keep her.
Still, watching McCoy play the field right in front of her had been a slow torture, one Frankie vowed never to repeat.
“My point is,” Sloane continued, louder this time. “Now it’s you, with Evan, who I happen to really like, by the way. So when will it be my turn?”
“You barely know them.”
“Same goes for you, boss, and yet, it doesn’t stop you from marking your territory.” Sloane rolled her eyes, but it did nothing to disguise the hurt. She grabbed the empty tray and started back out to the dining room.
A mental image of her pissing all over Evan popped into Frankie’s head, and she wrinkled her nose. I don’t mark my territory . She followed Sloane, almost crashing into her when Sloane suddenly swiveled around.
“And what was that last night, anyway? Evan left the office after me, looking all hot and bothered. Can you sniff out a sub, or was it coincidental?”
Frankie arched a brow. “First off, your two assumptions aren’t necessarily related, and second, show some respect when you’re referring to Evan. And third, I’m not having this conversation with you, Sloane.”
“Fine.”
A barely discernible sigh of relief left Frankie. She relaxed her shoulders. “Good. Now let’s get to work. There’s a lot to be done before opening.”
Needing distance between them, Frankie decided to restock the bar rather than wait for Sloane or Andy to do it.
It gave her time to reflect not only on their earlier conversation, but also on what she was doing with Evan.
Just because their body responded to Frankie didn’t mean they were on board mentally.
Hell, at times Evan looked like they hated Frankie.
What was up with that? It’s probably a defense mechanism, but still.
It would be wrong to take advantage of their chemistry if Evan wasn’t completely into it.
As Frankie rotated and filled the beer fridge, thoughts of the soft butch teased her relentlessly.
It’d been, well, years since she’d taken so quickly to someone.
Something about Evan screamed out to her.
It went deeper than their looks or the harsh chip on their shoulder.
Behind their enigmatic, bi-colored eyes, Evan was calculating, hardworking, intelligent, and—
Mine .
“Fuck, Sloane’s right.” Frankie shoved the possessive notion away. Going full alpha on someone who shot figurative daggers at her half the time would not be a good look for her or the business.
“I’m headed upstairs for a bit. Text if you need me before one,” Frankie said later as she finished wiping down the counters.
Everything was restocked and sanitized, ready for another shift.
She’d checked on the brewery as soon as she’d come down that morning, and everything looked as it should.
After screwing up the last batch, she’d been paying close attention to it.
“Will do, but we should be good. Lian’s on her way in, and Andy’s on call,” Sloane reminded her, not stopping to look at Frankie as she mopped.
Frankie had a lot of complicated feelings toward Sloane, mostly tied in with McCoy, but one thing was certain: the woman wasn’t afraid to work. “Have fun with Evan.”
“Evan?” Frankie echoed. “I don’t even know if they’re up there.
Quit making something out of nothing, Sloane.
It’s beneath you.” With that, she marched to the back stairwell to the private entrance of her apartment.
She’d told Sloane the truth; she didn’t know Evan’s whereabouts, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hoping they were inside the apartment.
She’d barely seen them since the party the night before, and honestly, Evan hadn’t exactly been speaking to her after she caught them with Sloane in her office.
Evan, who had sat on her desk and been an equal participant in Sloane’s kiss.
Frankie rolled her lips inward. She was far too jealous to be with someone who wasn’t totally committed to her.
So why was she so fixated on Evan when Evan was paying a little too much attention to Sloane?
The apartment was quiet when she let herself inside, and her gaze immediately dropped to the boot rack to see the footwear Evan always wore.
A smile tugged at Frankie, and she slipped out of her wedge heels and placed them beside Evan’s boots.
It was a different feeling, sharing her space with someone else after all these years.
Especially with someone like Evan, whom she had fantasies about that no typical roommate should.
“I reek of stale beer and fries,” she grumbled, entering her bedroom long enough to grab her robe off the hook behind the door.
She needed a shower, pronto. Evan’s door was closed as she passed on the way to the bathroom, but there was a lingering scent of Evan’s woodsy soap when she closed the door behind her.
“Maybe not asleep after all.” Frankie inhaled, humming with pleasure as she stripped out of her clothes.
She hurried with her shower, successfully getting her hair out of the way and half her body washed before the loofah snagged on one of her nipple piercings.
“Oh my sweet fuck!” Frankie sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers tightening around the loofah to hold it in place.
Shit, that stung! It had only happened twice since getting her nipples done, but twice was plenty.
Unexpectedly yanking on her piercing was significantly different from purposefully attaching a chain to the nipple hoops and letting it dangle all day.
“Not that you let anyone see it. Or anything else.” She carefully detached the loofah from her piercing before finishing her shower.
Her hair was still damp as she donned her teal silk robe and made her way out of the bathroom. She didn’t get far as the sound of Evan grunting and swearing beyond their bedroom door made Frankie pause. She gave a soft knock. “Everything okay?”
Silence, then Evan said in a voice so low Frankie had to strain to hear, “I’m stuck.”
“Stuck?” How could they be stuck? There wasn’t anything in the guest bed … oh. Annoyance rippled through Frankie. “Are you in the closet?”
Evan sighed. “You might as well come in.”
“I seem to recall telling you not to go inside there. Not to mention, it was locked,” Frankie bit out, turning the doorknob and pushing the bedroom door open.
“Your issue with authority is …” Her voice died off as she got a good look at the situation before her.
Evan had not only broken into the closet, but they’d torn it apart by the look of things.
Frankie’s toys were spread out over the made-up bed, her St. Andrew’s Cross leaning up against the long wall, and in the dead center of the chaos was Evan.
Wearing just a binder and a pair of boxers, one of the handcuffs from Frankie’s now set up bondage frame was securing Evan in place.
A laugh bubbled up inside Frankie, but she smothered it by clearing her throat. “Do you play, Evan? You should have waited for me.”
“Do I … No. I saw it and was just …” Evan’s voice trailed off. They wouldn’t meet her gaze, and that wouldn’t do.
Frankie closed the space between them with three long strides, reached a tentative hand out to cup the crook of Evan’s jaw, and tilted their face up. “Look at me. There’s no need to feel embarrassed. This is a safe, non-judgmental space, Evan. Want me to uncuff you?”
Evan’s eyelashes fluttered as they finally looked up. Their gaze widened slightly when they noticed her piercings beneath the bathrobe’s thin material, and by the time their eyes finally met, Evan’s cheeks were tinged pink.
“What do you think of them?” Frankie husked, and together they watched as her nipples tightened further under the attention.
“They’re sexy,” Evan admitted, blushing even more now. They glanced around the room at the toys spread throughout. “Are you, like, into crazy sex parties or something? Why have you got all these …”
“Sex toys?” Frankie finished for them. When they gave a helpless nod, Frankie ducked her head, grazing her lips across Evan’s ear as she purred, “I’m a Dominant, but I have a feeling you already know what that means.
Don’t you, Evan?” She pulled back, caressing Evan’s free arm, dancing her fingers along the skin.
“Otherwise, why would you willingly handcuff yourself to my bondage frame?”
Evan licked their lips. When Frankie stepped away, they tried to follow, only for the handcuff with their wrist still attached to jangle against the steel frame. They didn’t ask to be set free, and she was enjoying this too much to rush. “Who do you dominate?”
Frankie sashayed over to the bed for a closer inspection of her toys.
Evan had organized each one meticulously.
She chose one of her favorite beginner crops and picked it up.
“Any submissive that I connect with. It could be you, if you’re willing.
Tell me what you were thinking when you broke into the closet and discovered my toys.
What crossed your mind when you realized what the bondage frame was for? ”
Frankie turned back in time to see Evan close their eyes. An unmistakable hitch of breath left their lips, and they swallowed hard. “I wanted to know what it felt like to be trapped under your spell. I-I could see you torturing so—”
“Not torture,” Frankie interrupted, closing the space between them again.
Their eyes met once more, and Frankie teased the crop up Evan’s bare legs.
Satisfaction grew when she felt their body shudder.
She set the crop back on the mattress and continued.
“Pleasure. And punishment, but only with consent.”
“C-consent?”
“Yes, consent is key. Consent and safety, or all this”—she gestured around the room at her various toys and equipment—“wouldn’t be possible.
” Evan squirmed under the heat of Frankie’s gaze.
Her words were having the desired effect on her little thief.
Good . But today would be an introduction, no more.
Evan needed time to reflect, to decide if going further with Frankie was something they wanted.
Frankie reached up and flipped open the handcuff’s quick-release lever, freeing Evan.
They stumbled forward into her arms before regaining their footing.
Still, they didn’t move away from Frankie’s close proximity.
A delicious sensation raced through her as her piercings scraped across Evan’s exposed clavicle.
Frankie reached out, tilting Evan’s face to hers.
“Frankie.” Evan’s chest rose and fell heavily now, their blue and brown eyes darkened with lust.
“May I kiss you, Evan?”
Evan’s fingers closed around hers. Uncertainty mounted in their expression for an agonizing moment, but they nodded, licking their lips again. Frankie didn’t wait for them to change their mind. Her mouth was on theirs in seconds, a firm kiss cementing whatever new connection they’d found together.