39 - Frankie
39
Frankie
—
Sitka’s priciest restaurant flaunts elegance and refined taste with a flair for luxury, much like the man sitting across from me.
Monty took care of everything, from the chauffeured ride here to the private dining room and the precise ordering of our meals.
His black tailored suit fits him like a glove, enhancing the sculpted contours of his lean, muscular body. The intensity of his blue eyes, set against the harsh angles of his shaved jawline and raven-black hair, captivates and intimidates.
At age fifty, his commanding demeanor and stern bearing make him a formidable presence, his wealth and influence casting a long shadow over the restaurant when we walked in.
Hell, that shadow stretches across the entire state of Alaska.
Flickering candles adorn the small table between us, the romantic setting too intimate for the state of our relationship.
The bourbon arrives first, just as I like it, with dark, juicy cherries. I quickly slug it down, the warmth of the alcohol soothing my nerves.
He watches me, those arctic eyes never leaving mine. Sharp and penetrating, they reflect the icy waters surrounding his private island.
“You look stunning.” His deep, velvety baritone strokes me in places it has no business stroking.
“Thank you. I feel like a haggard old sea witch next to you. Every woman in the restaurant drooled on their filet mignon when you stepped in the door. They’re all going to go home tonight and watch billionaire porn until their fingers go numb.”
He smirks. “I didn’t notice them.”
“Liar.”
“In a crowd, my eyes always find you. No one else exists.”
A thousand stupid butterflies take flight in my belly, winging toward certain death. “You can’t say things like that.”
“I can do whatever I want, darling.”
“Whatever and whomever , apparently.”
“I will never hurt you like that again.”
“It was petty of me to bring it up. I’ve forgiven you.”
“I haven’t forgiven myself. I will apologize and grovel for the rest of my life.”
“Please, don’t.” I stare down at my bourbon, the memory of that video playing in my mind. “After I saw the recording of you with her, I swore I would never love again. I would never trust another man.”
“I know.” His jaw tightens. “I hate myself for that.”
“I don’t. Despite my resentment, I fell in love again. Leo and Kody brought me back to life, gave me something to hold onto, and proved that I’m not broken.”
He takes a deep breath, gearing up to say something, but the server enters with a delicate assortment of oysters, caviar, and lobster bisque.
Each bite is a luxurious experience, but I can barely taste it. My mind whirls with all the things unsaid between us.
We eat in silence.
His hand rests on the table next to mine, but he doesn’t touch me. His eyes, however, caress every inch of my body, running up and down my green minidress. A dress that clings to my figure and reveals more than it conceals. The plunging neckline exposes my chest from throat to abdomen, my nipples barely hidden by the thin fabric.
I know he personally picked out this dress. He’s always had a thing for my small boobs in green.
We move on to the main course, a perfectly cooked steak for him and a seared salmon for me, paired with an exquisite bottle of Bordeaux.
I try to keep the conversation casual, but my heart isn’t cooperating. It pounds so hard I’m sure he can see it in my exposed chest.
“This is nice, Monty.” I tip the wine to my lips. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. I’m just glad to be off the island.”
“I can’t bear to see you unhappy.” He sets his fork down and paws a hand through his hair. “It’s killing me, Frankie. The guilt…”
“Guilt?”
“I’m responsible for your misery.”
“What?” The salmon lodges in my throat, and I grab my water, gulping it down. “How?”
He presses his lips together, and for the first time since we arrived, he takes his eyes off me, darting them around the private dining room.
Two guards stand outside the door. Two more patrol the perimeter of the restaurant.
He’s not worried about the security. He’s stalling.
“You arranged an intimate dinner,” I say. “If you have secrets to share, the moment is now.”
He takes a long swig of his whiskey, drawing my attention to his thick throat, the way it jogs with each swallow. If I pressed my nose to his skin, I would smell traces of fine Italian leather and smoky vetiver beneath the sweet-earthy, musky-marine aroma of his aftershave.
I miss his scent.
“I helped Leo and Kody pursue their dreams to distract them.” He meets my eyes. “I knew their careers would consume them and keep them busy. I knew it would keep them from you. I needed them out of the way so that I could win you back.”
“You wanted to win me back by keeping me isolated?”
“I’m a monster. I knew what I was doing. I still know what I’m doing. I can’t stop.”
“Jesus.” My heart flinches.
“Here’s the kicker. You’ll enjoy this part.” He braces an elbow on the table. “I’ve grown to care about those guys on a level that fucks all my monstrous plans to hell. As it turns out, I actually want them to be happy.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I bought boats for them last week.”
“You what?”
“And motorcycles.”
“Oh, God.”
“It’s a surprise. They’re driving your shit cruiser back and forth to Sitka, and I’m worried it’ll break down and leave them stranded. It’s maddening. I’m supposed to hate them.”
“No, you’re not. They’re your family.”
“They’re fucking my wife.”
“I kept my promise. We haven’t been intimate.”
“You love them.”
“Yeah. I do.” I move my hand, lacing my fingers through his. “Sounds like you do, too.”
“I love you .” He runs his thumb over my knuckles. “Let me in.”
“You’ve always been in .” I stare at my plate. “In my thoughts, in my heart. I can’t get you out. ”
“Is that what you want? Would my absence make you happy?”
I pull my hand back, needing the distance to think clearly.
“If you have secrets to share,” he murmurs, “the moment is now.”
“I don’t think you can handle hearing what I want.”
“Try me.”
“No.”
“A year ago today, you had no problem telling me precisely what was on your mind. You wanted our baby, rightfully so, and you refused to take no for an answer. Where is that woman now?”
“I want the impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.”
“I want the four of us to be together.”
“We are together.”
“Don’t be daft, Monty.”
“Spell it out.”
“Fuck.” I gulp, going for it. “I want the four of us to be in love and naked together for the rest of our lives.”
His eyes darken, and he leans forward, his voice low and cold. “I will never fuck my brothers.”
“Leo is your nephew.”
“He’s my blood.”
“Monty.” I haul in a calming breath. “Leo and Kody don’t have sex with each other. They’re weirded out if they accidentally touch. Well, mostly Leo. Kody’s pretty open. But they keep a clear line between them. No contact during sex. No sword crossing.”
“No double penetration?”
I don’t get embarrassed easily, but as my cheeks burn with the fire of a hundred midnight suns, I realize I’m completely unprepared for this conversation.
I never imagined sharing the sexual details of my threesome with anyone, let alone with my estranged husband.
“Answer the question.” He angles over the table, scorching me with those inescapable eyes.
“No double penetration.”
“Because they’re related?”
“That and…” I clear my throat. “The childhood abuse.”
Leaning back, he rubs his hands over his face.
“Have you…?” I snatch my glass of wine and finish it off. “Have you ever shared a woman with another man?”
“No.” He stares at me, eyes thinning to slits. “What do you want that you’re not getting?”
“I already told you.”
“What do you want in bed?” He rises, circles the table, and bends into my space. “Two dicks in one hole?” Twisting my chair to face him, he lowers his mouth to my cheek. “Three dicks in two holes?” He grazes those sinful lips across my other cheek. “All three holes stuffed at the same time?”
Tingling flames sweep up my neck and across my face.
Admitting my desires out loud feels like a betrayal to Leo and Kody.
I bite my tongue and avert my gaze.
“Say it.” His tone hardens as he sets that cruel mouth against mine, barely touching, straight-up tormenting.
I shake my head.
“Fucking say it, Frankie.” He cuffs my throat with a huge hand, the pressure gentle, sexual, and demanding.
“Monty…” My pulse accelerates, raising my body temperature. “Please.”
“Use your words.” He drags his teeth along my jawline, his breath hot and jagged and so damn hungry.
“Let me go.” My legs part of their own volition as heat gathers between them.
This is wrong. It’s so fucking wrong. We need to stop.
“Tell me your desires.” With his grip on my throat, he brushes the knuckles of his free hand against my pebbled nipple, making me whimper. “Tell me what you crave, and I’ll stop.”
I want him to keep going. I want his tongue in my mouth and his gorgeous, hard cock between my legs.
But I’m with Leo and Kody.
So I give him the truth. “I crave us . You and them and me. I don’t care about holes or positions or crossing swords. I just want the connection, the four of us bonded together in the most intimate way possible.”
“Inside you.”
“Yes.”
“At the same time.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” He abruptly releases me and returns to his seat, his features blank. “It would never work.”
“Bullshit.” A flustered exhale flutters past my lips. “You’ve had foursomes, fivesomes, and too-many-to-count-somes. Don’t tell me it doesn’t work.”
“I know the sex works. I’m talking about the jealousy, the egos. You don’t want a night of experimentation. You want a relationship with three possessive men. It would tear us all apart.” He takes a breath. “I don’t share. I’m selfish, and I won’t apologize for it. I want you all to myself. That’s my fantasy.”
His words sting like a hard slap across the face. I know it’s a pipe dream, but hearing his outright refusal makes it hurt that much more.
“Like I said. I want the impossible.” I fiddle with the napkin. “I hate that loving them means hurting you and vice versa.”
“You still love me.” His expression softens, revealing the vulnerability he tries so hard to hide.
I don’t respond, but that in itself is an answer.
“I wish there were an easy solution,” he says.
“From where I’m sitting, there’s no solution. I will never choose one of you over the others.”
“Have you discussed this with them?”
“No.”
“If you do…” He exhales sharply through his nose. “Let me know how that goes.”
We continue our meal in silence, the food a blur of flavors and textures.
Whenever I glance up, I find him watching me with a look of awe, as if he’s seeing me for the first time every time. That look reminds me of what we had and what we could still have.
If I chose him over Leo and Kody.
That will never happen.
I’ll oppose it with every fiber of my being until my very last breath.
As the server clears away the plates and Monty pays the check, I play back our strange dinner conversation.
“Your plan to isolate me from Leo and Kody,” I say, “is that still in the works?”
“No. It’s making you miserable, and that’s the last thing I want. I’ll find another way to win you back.”
There’s only one way for us to be together, and he won’t consider it.
But I believe he truly wants me to be happy. He never stopped loving me, even after watching me have sex with Leo and Kody.
The more time I spend with him, the more he jeopardizes the effort I’ve put into scraping him out of my heart and erasing him from my mind.
Monty Novak was a billionaire playboy with a lot of secrets and even more pride.
Montgomery Strakh is a tortured soul in love, who admits his faults and fights for what he believes in.
He believes in me.
“Thank you for dinner.” I shift my hand, grazing my fingers against his. “You’re not a monster.”
“Invite me back into your bed.”
“Monty.”
“Do it. Let me fuck you.” In a blink, he captures my wrist and squeezes. “I’ll render you powerless.”
A throb hits my bloodstream, sending a frustrating rush of heat between my legs. I want to be held down and dominated by him again. I want his bruising kisses stuck in my teeth and his hand necklaces choking my air while he stretches my ass.
I just want…him.
If Leo or Kody had these thoughts about Sirena, it would gut me.
“Monty…” I stare at his fingers around my wrist.
“I have a surprise for you.” He stands and moves to pull out my chair.
When he offers his hand, I take it, allowing him to lead me out of the restaurant.
With four security guards flanking us, we walk to his garage in silence. There, under the glow of overhead lights, he guides me toward a car resembling the batmobile. A red one.
“Get in.” He opens the door for me, which rotates upward in a sweeping motion like a wing.
I lower into the bucket seat, enveloped by high-quality leather with detailed stitching.
The drive through town is a daze of lights and motion, the car’s engine a powerful roar. Security follows in the Range Rover, but it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.
His long fingers grip the steering wheel with a command that quickens my pulse. When he shifts gears, I’m mesmerized by the fluidity of his movements, the way his knuckles flex and tendons tense.
There’s something incredibly sexy about the precision with which he handles the hypercar. An effortless mastery. His jaw locks with concentration, but every so often, a smile plays at the corners of his lips.
He knows exactly the effect he has on me.
Heat radiates from his body, and I realize I’ve shifted too close to him, drawn to the scent of leather and aftershave. I want to touch him, feel the muscle and sinew beneath his shirt, and trace the ridges of power that define his physique.
But I don’t. Because that would be cheating.
With my husband.
He crosses the bridge and parks in the hospital parking lot.
Confused, I turn to him. “What are we doing here?”
Without answering, he steps out, opens my door, and motions for me to follow.