30. Chapter 30
Frankie
Never in Frankie’s life had watching a lover sleep been so appealing.
But looking at Evan, her sleeping, peaceful sub with their typical scowl gone and face serene, Frankie found herself riveted to where she sat on the mattress.
No one had ever transfixed her quite like Evan had in just a few months.
The night before teased at the recesses of Frankie’s memory.
Her mouth curled up at the corners. Evan had been very good indeed.
The way their body responded to each one of Frankie’s whims was exquisite to watch unfold.
Frankie reached out to trail her finger lightly over Evan’s eyebrow, whispering, “I promise to never take you for granted.”
It’s what she’d done with first Emily, and then McCoy, assuming they’d always be there. She’d vowed to protect and love them both, and in the end, Emily was lost to her, and McCoy left Frankie for someone else.
How will loving Evan be any different? You always get left behind.
“Fuck off, brain. Not helping.” Frankie reluctantly stood up.
She left Evan asleep in her bed, slipping on her bathrobe before quietly pulling her bedroom door closed.
She took care of business in the bathroom before making her way into the kitchen, wrinkling her nose at the time on her wall clock.
Considering she and Evan had been playing well into the night, 8:23 a.m. was too early to be up.
It was good she hadn’t woken Evan. They’d need all the sleep they could get for their afternoon/evening shift at the pub.
Not to mention they’re grumpy when tired , Frankie thought, smirking through a yawn as she turned on the kettle.
It was the perfect morning to make coffee in her French press.
Her future, and Evan’s place in it, filled her with new doubt as she nestled into her breakfast booth with the French press, empty mug, and non-dairy creamer.
Last night, they said they’d stay, but that was during sub drop.
In the light of day with a clear head, Evan could have an entirely different answer.
No matter how real things felt between them, it would be foolish of Frankie to bank her life on such a juvenile faith.
She’d been burned multiple times before, and trusting the wrong people was what took Emily from her all those years ago.
“Don’t ruin this for me, okay?” Frankie said to the empty room, speaking to Emily as if she were there and alive.
Frankie wasn’t one to believe in ghosts, but now and again, it sure as hell felt like Emily dropped in from time to time to warn her about things.
Like that nightmare Frankie had the night Evan moved in, and now, with doubt plaguing her chest, threatening to smother out the warmth and love bursting forth for Evan.
“Talking to yourself?”
Frankie started, her head snapping up mid-pour to see a sleepy Evan a few feet away.
“I … Good morning. How are you feeling?” Frankie managed not to overfill her mug and set the French press down on the table.
Evan’s presence had her sliding out of the booth to greet them properly, and she closed the small space between them to drop a kiss on their cheek.
“I’m … okay. A little sore, but manageable.” A shy smile tugged at Evan’s sensual mouth, and tired eyes lifted to meet hers.
Frankie smiled. “That’s understandable. I imagine your ass will be tender for a few days, especially if you’re not used to it.” She took Evan’s hand in hers and gave it a light squeeze. “How are you feeling about everything we did?”
The question was direct and ill-timed, but Frankie was never one to beat around the bush.
Especially when it involved her sub. It was important that they were on the same page and communicating freely.
And with Evan, Frankie had to account for a number of things in their growing relationship.
As much as she wished it were so, she could never forget the reasons Evan landed on her doorstep to begin with.
Or that they might never fully trust or forgive her.
“I am … I dunno, Frankie. I just woke up.” Evan lowered their gaze, staring down at their entangled hands a moment before pulling out of Frankie’s grasp. Their movements were stiff as they headed for the fridge.
Frankie fought for composure, fought the urge to grab Evan up in her arms and kiss them senseless.
Surely once she’d reclaimed their lips with hers, they’d remember that she wasn’t the enemy.
But driving her will home wasn’t the way to Evan’s heart, even Frankie knew that.
She needed patience and sympathy. There was a long road ahead of them before Evan could think about committing to her.
“Right. Well. I hadn’t had a chance to cook breakfast. Are you in the mood to go out at all? We could grab something at the diner up the street.”
Evan put the cap back on the orange juice and returned it to the fridge. “Not really. I could just have cereal, if that’s okay with you?”
“Of course.” Frankie bit her tongue as disappointment washed over her.
She left Evan in the kitchen and instead headed to the bathroom to start the shower.
Unfortunately, standing under the hot spray didn’t silence her internal monologue or need to snatch back the control she seemed to have given to Evan.
It shouldn’t bother Frankie that Evan was acting standoffish.
They could still have been experiencing a bit of sub drop from last night’s scene, but even if that wasn’t the case, how they were feeling was normal under the circumstances.
Not only had Evan slept with their brother’s killer, but they’d allowed her to restrain them to her bed and take a flogger to their flesh.
And then I read to them . The memory of Evan curled in her arms made Frankie smile.
Caring for her sub had always been one of her favorite parts of the whole experience.
Not in a maternal way; no, more that for a period of time, someone trusted her enough to be innately vulnerable. They relied on her for protection.
After her shower, Frankie toweled off, spending extra time on her hair.
She brushed it out and then flipped it upside down to add curl serum to the damp strands.
Next she did her makeup. By the sound of dishes clanging, Evan was still busy in the kitchen, so Frankie quietly crossed the hall to her bedroom and closed her door.
No matter how difficult it was, she planned to give them whatever space they needed that morning.
She took her time getting dressed, choosing her azure-blue blazer and slacks rather than the burgundy solely because they reminded her of Evan’s right eye.
Once she donned her jewelry, she stood in front of the freestanding mirror to study herself.
“Not bad at all.” Some people thought Frankie was insane for dressing so formally when she owned a pub, but that was only because they didn’t understand.
She’d spent years giving away her power while on the police force, and before that, her power had been stolen in a brutal assault.
Frankie would never forget the first day she’d worn a suit to work, rather than a dress or any other typical gender-conforming clothing society expected.
It’d been the grand reopening of the pub after she’d taken it over from Danny.
Frankie bought a suit specifically for that night, hoping the outfit would act like a shield and give her the confidence she lacked.
And it worked. She’d worn a shield for years as a cop, but donning a suit was the figurative armor she hadn’t realized she’d needed until that night.
It became a coping mechanism, another way to leave her old life behind.
A knock sounded, breaking Frankie out of her thoughts. “Come in,” she called, turning away from the mirror just as the door opened.
“I’m sorry for …” Evan’s eyes widened slightly as they took in her outfit, bottom lip disappearing between their teeth. “That’s one of my favorite outfits on you.”
“Why, because it’s the same color you see in the mirror every day?” Frankie held her hand out, waiting for Evan to take it before she tugged them against her. She dipped her face close, her lips grazing their ear. “I love it for the same reason.”
Evan hadn’t changed out of the oversized t-shirt Frankie had lent them the night before, and when she breathed them in, the skin along their neck still bore remnants of Frankie’s lipstick and floral perfume. “You smell like mine, little thief,” she uttered against their ear.
A full-body tremble erupted in Evan at the declaration. “I am yours. Sorry for being weird earlier. I-I feel uber emotional for some reason. Like, all over the place kind of.”
Frankie pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead, then another on their cheek, her eyes fluttering closed at the contact. “I suspect you might still be in sub drop. What do you need from me? Space, cuddles, sex?”
“Not space. I know that much.” Evan’s grip on her hand tightened. “I don’t understand, but I felt like I was gonna cry when I woke up without you. And that isn’t me, like at all. I’m not the clingy, co-dependent kind, I promise you.”
“Can I kiss you? Like, really kiss you?”
“I might cry … or die if you don’t, so fucking please just—”
Frankie’s lips silenced Evan’s ramble, her mouth parting in time to whatever else they were about to say.
She felt the gush of air between her teeth as Evan gasped, and then they were returning the kiss with fervor.
Frankie cupped Evan’s cheeks, holding them in place and teasing their mouth with her tongue.
The sweet aftertaste of the cereal they’d eaten for breakfast clung to Evan’s lips and tongue, and Frankie moaned softly at how delicious and eager they were for her.
“I can’t get enough of you.” She licked Evan’s lips before placing wet kisses along their jaw and throat. Evan’s head lolled to the side, granting her better access, but it wasn’t enough. She needed her mouth where her fingers and dildo had been the night before. “Do you want this?”
“Yes,” Evan breathed, accepting another deep kiss from Frankie. Their hands came up to rest on her arms. “But not like last night, if that’s okay.”
They didn’t want another scene so soon. Frankie assumed that would be the case since their emotions were running high, but still she hesitated.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d fucked someone without flogging and tying them up in some fashion.
But this is Evan. They watched her, waiting, Frankie’s suit reflecting in their captivating blue eye.
Vulnerability shone clearer in their brown one, almost luminescent under the bedroom light.
“Okay,” she said at last, kissing Evan once more.
Moving her hands slowly down their arms, and then further, to where the hem of their long T-shirt rested against their lean thighs, Frankie pushed the material up until she was gripping Evan’s ass.
Without breaking their kiss, Frankie lifted them off the floor, silently directing their legs around her waist. She didn’t let go as she walked to her bed, relishing Evan’s soft groan as she nipped their kiss-swollen lip.
“I won’t take my clothes off.” It was important Evan knew that. That they were aware of her boundaries, even in moments like this. Being naked with someone, fully exposed emotionally and physically, wasn’t something Frankie did. Ever. She wasn’t about to start now.
“What are you willing to give up, if Evan’s the one?”
Frankie almost growled at the irritating voice that popped in her head. Sawyer could fuck off and stay in her own damn lane.
Evan’s awkward chuckle switched to a sigh when Frankie lowered them to the mattress and began kissing them once more. “I’ll never see your … piercings again at this rate,” they said between kisses.
“One day, little thief, but this morning is all about you.” She slipped her hands between their bodies, her lips and tongue teasing Evan as her fingers grasped the hem of the T-shirt again.
The material slid up an inch at a time, and Frankie moaned her appreciation over Evan’s bare thighs and ass. They felt exquisite underneath her.
“Don’t … please don’t take it all the way off.”
Frankie paused, her attention flickering to the apprehension in Evan’s gaze. One hand let go of the shirt to palm their cheek. “I would never. I want you as comfortable as possible. Now …” She flashed a grin, climbing off Evan and lowering herself to her knees on the floor.
Evan pushed themself up on their elbows. “What are you—oh!”
Frankie hauled them to the edge of her bed so their legs dangled over the side, and the dark thatch of blonde hair covering their sex was within kissing distance. Perfect . “Still okay?”
Nodding, a rosy tinge blossomed on Evan’s cheeks. They parted their legs slightly. “Please, I need you.”
“I know, baby.” Frankie didn’t want to tease this time around. Evan needed the comfort of an orgasm and the closeness she offered. The teasing could wait for another day.
Frankie held Evan’s gaze, spreading their legs further apart. Flashing a salacious grin, she dipped her head and went in for that kiss she craved.