35. Chapter 35 #2
Evan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. They tried to pull away, but Frankie held them in place, waiting. It took them a moment to figure out what for. Clearing their throat, Evan mumbled, “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good, now tell me, honey. Since you’ve failed this ‘job,’ as you call it, what happens next? Cecil comes to off me himself?”
Evan cringed at how point-blank and aloof she was, as if Cecil trying to kill her was the most ridiculous idea she’d heard all day.
Slowly, they nodded. “But I don’t know when.
I tried to stop him. Fuck, I’m sorry, Frankie.
I-I told him Jerry got the wrong woman, but he won’t listen. ” He never has before, so why start?
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Frankie dipped her face toward Evan’s, pressing the gentlest kiss to the edge of their mouth. She pulled back a teensy bit to whisper, “Is this okay?”
“You never have to ask to kiss me,” they whispered back, accepting another peck on the opposite side of their mouth.
“I do, in case one day you don’t want my kisses.”
“That day will never happen.” Evan would more than happily make out with Frankie for hours.
She always smelled delicious and could tease them to the begging point.
Even now, after such a deep topic, a breathy sigh escaped them as Frankie’s lips pressed fully against theirs.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you. ”
“Baby, it’s okay, really. I’m not worried. I’ll inform the police in the morning and stay vigilant.” Frankie’s gaze roamed over their face, her fingers of one hand lovingly stroking up and down Evan’s arm.
They didn’t know how she was so calm. Maybe it was because she didn’t know Cecil like they did. Evan knew exactly what Cecil was capable of, the lengths he would go to when he sought revenge.
“C’mere, closer to me,” Frankie said, her voice soft. She patted right between her legs which were reclined on the chaise part of the sectional. “Right here.”
“Okay.”
Once Evan was sitting between her thighs, their back leaning against her voluptuous breasts, Frankie dropped a kiss against their earlobe. “Tell me about your sword tattoo. I’ve noticed it’s the only ink you have.”
“Not much to tell,” Evan admitted, studying Frankie’s pale thighs in the silk sleep shorts she wore.
They were thick and strong-looking from hours of training, and Evan longed for the permission to touch, to run their hands up the length of all that soft skin.
“It represents courage and protection. I got it right after I was released.”
“And has it helped?”
Evan hummed a sigh of pleasure as Frankie skimmed her fingers along the tattoo and then further, along their jawline and down their throat.
They tilted their face up to look at her, smiling shyly. “Only since I met you. I never felt like I belonged anywhere before. I was always in the way growing up, and in prison, my cellmate offered protection in exchange for …” Evan trailed off, a shameful blush heating their cheeks.
“For what?” Frankie’s voice had grown tight.
Evan swallowed, dropped their gaze away from hers. “Sex. She was easily twice my size and terrifying. Said trading it was the nicer option. So I did. Besides a few fights—which she got revenge for me—I was safe for five years.”
Silence permeated the living room for several seconds before Frankie growled out, “You were sexually assaulted.”
“No, I agreed to the sex so nothing worse would happen.” Which Evan’s cellmate had threatened in that first week. Often.
“Little thief, coercion is a form of rape.” Frankie’s arms went around Evan, holding them close to her. When she spoke again, her voice had grown husky, like she was battling the urge to cry. “I’m so sorry that happened. I wish I could’ve been there to protect you.”
Evan smirked at that, trying for a joke. “If things had gone differently, you would’ve already arrested me a couple years before. By the time I landed in the pen, you’d have forgotten all about me.”
“I’d never forget you.” Frankie kissed their temple before burying her face in their short hair. “Even if it wasn’t romantic, I would have taken notice of you. Maybe I would have looked into your stepfather, got social services involved.”
“No offense, but I much prefer how it turned out. I love being your submissive.”
“Mmm, me too. I love you being mine.”
Frankie kissed them again, and as her soft hands caressed Evan’s bare thighs exactly as they’d longed to do for her, the memory of her own tattoo returned. Evan had only seen it for a blurry second without their glasses on, and they wondered if Frankie had any more.
“What’s your ink of? The one on your hip.”
Frankie’s hands stilled. She cleared her throat. “The Fire Rose Unity tattoo. It symbolizes unity and strength for sexual assault survivors.”
Evan placed their hands on Frankie’s, squeezing them. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Thank you for asking. I hadn’t realized you’d seen it.”
A light chuckle left Evan. They tilted their head back to look at Frankie. “Just barely without my glasses. Maybe one day you’ll let me see it a little better?”
As Frankie smiled, the earlier tension in her eyes vanished. “Perhaps, if you’re a good boi and come for me now, I’ll show you when I dress for work. What do you say?”
Evan grinned, already loving the sound of that. “Yes, please, Daddy.”