43 - Frankie
43
Frankie
—
Tonight is Kody’s grand opening.
Anticipation thrums through me as I stand before the mirror.
The black knee-length cocktail dress fits perfectly, creating a sleek silhouette that flatters my small frame and modest chest. I styled my hair in red waves down my back, and my green eyes, accentuated by smoky makeup, gleam with excitement and nerves.
For the first time in a long while, I feel genuinely beautiful.
“Frankie!” Monty calls from downstairs. “We’re going to be late.”
“Coming!”
Kody left hours ago with his security team to oversee the final details. He’s put so much into the distillery, pouring his passion into this dream.
I take a deep breath. Tonight is a big deal. The press will be present, as well as vodka critics from all over the world.
It’s his chance to step out of the shadows of his past and into something new. Time to prove how far he’s come and how much he’s survived.
As I descend the grand staircase, the sound of hushed voices accompanies the click of my heels.
“You know what’s bothering me?” Leo whispers. “Where the fuck is Doyle’s body? He could’ve cut off his own hand. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Why would he remove his dominant hand?” Monty asks. “If he’s going to cut one off, wouldn’t it be the one he least used? For that matter, why not just send a finger? A whole hand seems like overkill.”
“Lovely conversation, boys.” I step into view and find them waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.
My blood runs hot.
Damn.
Monty and Leo, standing side by side.
Double damn.
What a devastating pair of gorgeous, potent lady-killers.
I wince. Maybe killer isn’t the word I should be thinking, but fuck them and their heart-attack-inducing sex appeal.
Monty looks every bit the regal billionaire mogul in a black tailored tuxedo that fits him like a second skin. With his stormy blue eyes, squared jawline, and arrogant demeanor, he’s a paragon of refined masculinity.
As he holds my gaze, the one-year separation in our marriage fades away. In a fragile moment, I stand before my husband as we once were—devoted, happy, and deeply in love.
I know things about this man, secrets no one else knows.
I know he has a soft spot for classic romantic movies, but he only watches them late at night when he thinks no one’s around.
I know he keeps a collection of vintage toy cars in a hidden cabinet in his office. Each vehicle represents a milestone in his career, and he talks to them as if they’re old friends.
I know he insists on tucking me into bed whenever I fall asleep on the couch. Even now, after everything. Even if it means carrying me to the guest bedroom when Leo and Kody are out of town. It’s a simple act of care and tenderness that he’s never shown another person.
And I know he pines for me as much as I secretly pine for him, and it’s unfair. It’s unfair to him. It’s unfair to Leo and Kody, and I don’t know what to do.
“Fucking hell, love.” Leo’s deep rumble grabs my attention. His gaze crawls over me, making my entire body twitch. “Look at you. Absolutely breathtaking.”
“Breathtaking doesn’t begin to cover it,” Monty rasps. “I think she might be magic.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. While they eat me alive with their eyes, I can’t tear my attention away from Leo.
He’s a revelation. I’ve never seen him dressed up, let alone dressed like this. I try to reconcile the wild, mechanic-scented, arctic Viking with the man standing before me in an expensive black tuxedo.
His shoulder-length brown hair, usually windblown and tangled, is meticulously braided and pulled back into a sexy, savage knot that accentuates his chiseled features.
I love the way his muscled frame fills out the tux. The contrast of those classy lines against his feral beauty is a stunning juxtaposition. He looks like a savage prince, draped in the finery of civilization while refusing to be tamed.
God knows I haven’t tamed him. I would never try. I only want him to stay out of jail and not be so angry.
My relationship with him and Kody remains in discord. We kiss and touch and sleep in the same bed, but a gulf of unresolved shit churns between us, leaving a constant ache in my throat.
Not tonight. I’m not going to let it upset me tonight.
As I stride toward him, he anticipates what I want, leaning down so I can press my nose to his neck.
Delicious . Cedar, spice, and something sensual and primal swirls from his skin. My body responds with a powerful pull, tight and relentless, my nipples hardening beneath the dress.
“You both look so handsome.” I clutch my throat, stepping back. “I’m incredibly fortunate to have you at my side tonight, even if it means fending off all the women vying for your attention. I’ll be the envy of everyone there.”
They exchange a glance and, quite possibly, a shared smile.
“Tonight, we’re going to create something magical.” Meeting their eyes, I take each of their hands in mine. “No fighting, no jealousy, no tempers flaring. We’re setting aside our differences and showing up for Kody. You’re his brothers. We’re his greatest supporters.”
They nod, and the air squeezes from my lungs. There are so many things I want to say but can’t.
I love you both.
I love you emotionally, romantically, physically, eternally, in every way.
They’re everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever needed. And tonight, for just a few hours, all three of them are mine.
Monty offers his elbow, and I take it. Leo falls into step beside us, looping his arm around my back.
Then the three of us, bound by pain, blood, and marriage, make our way to the waiting yacht.
Halfway to the dock, something itches between my shoulder blades, compelling me to glance back at the house.
In the dining room window, a dark shape hovers. The outline of a man.
I squint, trying to make out his features.
“Monty.” I pull on his arm, slowing his gait. “Did Oliver leave for the day?”
“I’m not sure.” He stops, his brow furrowing in thought as he looks at Leo.
“I thought he left earlier.” Leo toys with the ends of my hair. “Why?”
“He’s watching us from the dining room,” I say.
We all turn to look back at the house. But when we focus on the window, the shadow is gone.
“I must have been seeing things.”
Monty’s eyes linger on the house a moment longer before he nods. We continue on, the momentary disquiet dissolving as the anticipation of the evening takes over.
Thirty minutes later, we step onto the crowded sidewalk in front of the distillery. The first thing that strikes me is the sign on the building.
Strakh.
Kody kicked around a few ideas for the business name, but I’m glad he settled on this one. A name that carries such a dark history now has a chance to be redefined, to stand for something amazing and hopeful.
The turnout is more than we could’ve hoped. Lines of people snake out the door and around the block, their faces eager, the buzz of conversation and laughter charging the air. And more are coming, given the snarl of traffic that stretches down the street.
I’m so happy for him despite the knot of anxiety in my gut. The stalker could be anywhere, on the street, in the crowd, watching me. The thought bunches my shoulders around my ears.
A team of security guards flank us on all sides. They move with trained precision, securing the area as we approach the front entrance. The crowd parts for us, curious and admiring eyes following our progress.
I dig my nails into Monty’s arm as Leo wraps his huge frame around my back. My guys press in even closer as we skip the line and push through the mob.
The guards at the entrance nod respectfully, allowing us to pass without hesitation.
We step inside. The noise and chaos of the outside world fade, replaced by a sprawling, welcoming space. Rich, dark woods and soft, ambient lighting set the tone. A large stone fireplace sits at the center. Plush leather chairs and fur throws invite visitors to sit and stay a while, to sink into comfort and let the experience wash over them.
Deep in my heart, I know this is just the beginning. Kody’s dream has come to life, and for a moment, I forget my worries, basking in the glow of his success and the safety of those around me.
Leo and Monty have already seen the final renovations. I steal glances at them, my heart swelling . Leo catches my eye and grins, a roguish tilt to his lips. Monty squeezes my hand, his expression severe and vigilant as he leads us through the crowd.
The security guards discreetly position themselves to keep a watchful eye on us and the surroundings.
Everyone stares.
Walking between Monty and Leo, I’ve never felt so exposed and scrutinized. How do they deal with this level of attention everywhere they go?
And where’s Kody?
Frantically searching the throngs of people, I let out a huge breath when I spot him behind the bar.
The bar itself is a work of art, hand-carved from a massive piece of timber and polished to a warm glow. And the owner…
He doesn’t wear a tuxedo like Monty, Leo, and most other men here. No, he’s dressed in starched jeans and a Henley, the fabric gripping his muscled frame in all the right places. His beard is gone, but the stubble on his jaw casts shadows over his striking features, giving him an air of rugged sophistication. This is dressed up for my caveman, a roughened, refined look that suits him perfectly.
He pours and serves drinks but is more than just a bartender. He’s a storyteller, guiding guests through the rich history and intricate process of vodka making.
He looks up as we approach, and a galaxy of stars shines in his black eyes, transforming his broody expression into pure joy.
“Frankie.” His dark drawl hitches my breath as he abandons his customers and prowls straight to me. “You made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Christ, woman.” He steps into me, raking those predatory eyes up and down my body. “You’re a goddamn meal.”
His deep, slow words rumble, reverberating through sinew and bone. He’s my comfort. My home.
“The place looks incredible.” Monty grips Kody’s neck and hauls him in for a hug, a rare display of affection that makes my pulse flutter. “Congratulations.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” Kody leans back, resting a hand on Monty’s jaw. “Thank you. For everything. I mean it.”
“You’re welcome.” With a smirk, Monty scans the bustling, crowded establishment. “Looks like my investment is paying off.”
“You’ve outdone yourself.” Leo leans against the bar and hooks one of those muscle-packed arms around me, pulling me back into the safety of his body. “What’s a guy gotta do around here to get a drink for his girl?”
“ Our girl is getting a private tour by the owner.” Kody turns, motioning over one of the female bartenders. “Hey, Sophie. Pour my brothers the good stuff. I’ll be back.”
Kody snatches my hand, steals me away from Leo, and tugs me through the crowd.
I glance back, snagging on Monty’s unreadable eyes. He looks like he might chase us. Then he blinks and directs more guards to follow the two that already trail us.
An endless line of people stop Kody as we pass. Or they try anyway. He greets them with quick nods and rushed words without slowing. We breeze through intimate lounges and into a deep, long room.
“The tasting room.” He waves a hand around and tugs me forward. “It’s where you taste stuff.”
Despite the number of people, the space feels like a well-orchestrated gathering. Clusters of guests form organic, fluid circles around the tasting tables. Employees scatter among them, encouraging the patrons to feel the grains and smell the fresh water sourced from nearby glacial streams.
A massive window offers a view of the distillery room, connecting guests to the process that brings their drinks to life.
I was hoping for a tour of that, but he drags me past it and into the kitchen.
The delicious aroma of cooking seeps into my lungs, and I laugh as he practically jogs past the chefs.
“Kody, slow down.” I dig in my heels. “Walk me through the menu.”
With a grunt—and seemingly great effort—he pauses and gestures at some of the prepared dishes. “Each dish is designed to enhance the flavors of the alcohol. The smoked salmon is served with a dill-infused vodka.”
He rambles off a few more main courses and their vodka pairings, barely giving me time to absorb the rustic charm of the kitchen before tugging me toward the next room.
The distillery itself.
“Shiny room where magic happens.” He moves quickly past the intricate equipment, not letting me linger. “It’s shiny and magical.”
“You’re a terrible tour guide.” I pause to admire the stills, only to be tugged forward again. “Worse than Wolf when he showed me Hoss.”
I mean, I get it. He has a full house, hundreds of patrons waiting for his attention. I can tour his place anytime.
Once my life is safe again.
“We’ll come back to that,” he says when I slow down to admire the gleaming rows of vodka bottles with the Strakh logo.
I don’t complain and let him haul me along, skipping the fascinating details and speeding through the heart of the distillery.
Finally, we reach a door at the back. I don’t remember it being there when the renovations began.
One of his personal guards stands beside it, nodding at Kody as we approach.
“Is it secure?” Kody asks.
“Yes, Mr. Strakh.”
Kody enters a code into the keypad and pulls me inside. “This is the highlight of the tour.”
I glimpse a cozy studio apartment with a kitchenette, bathroom, and king-sized bed before he lifts me, hooks my legs around his waist, and pins me against the closed door.
Oh.
My.
Kodiak.
His mad dash was just an excuse to get us here, to this moment, so he can press his king-sized cock against me.
Lucky for him, there isn’t a single bone in my body that will resist him. We’re not under Monty’s roof.
“The highlight?” Warm sparks tingle from my belly to my pussy as I dig my heels into the muscle of his ass.
“You, woman.” He licks my throat, slowly dragging his tongue over my jaw and across my lips. “You’re the highlight of the tour.”
“You gonna fuck me right here against the door? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
He gives me one hard blink, setting me on fire.
“All those people are out there waiting for you.” I bite his full, firm lips. “Better make it quick.”
“Couldn’t go slow if I tried.” He sinks a hand between our bodies, quickly finding the crotch of my thong. “This fucking dress. I want to kill every man who sees you in it.”
“Except your brothers.”
He makes a sound in his throat. “Fifty-six days.”
“What?”
“That’s how long it’s been since I’ve been inside you.”
“We endured longer in the hills.”
“We were dying . Physically dying from starvation. This is a different kind of death.” He shoves the hem of my dress past my hips and releases the fly on his jeans. “I said I could wait, but…goddammit!”
As he frees his cock, I hang onto his shoulders, staring into those dark, pouty eyes, waiting for his command.
“Give me your mouth.”
There it is.
I part my lips for him, and holy fucking shit, he invades. The instant our mouths touch, he goes mindless, the vicious thrust of his tongue showing me how quick and dirty the sex will be.
Lifting my hips over him, he pushes the thong aside and slots his monstrous erection at my entrance.
“Not even going to take my panties off?”
“Nope.” Exhaling against my mouth, he pushes in.
Inch by inch, he works himself inside where we both need him to be.
Then he moves.
No grace. No technique. All feral power and unbearable tightness as he wall-bangs me through the door with his twelve-inch dick. Pretty sure I’ll need stitches after this. But there’s no stopping.
Gazes entwined, fusing deeper and deeper with each thrust, never letting go, we couldn’t slow down to save our lives.
His mouth is a conqueror, plundering, devouring, taking over. He fucks me with the same brutality. The door creaks on its hinges, alerting the guard in the hall exactly what we’re doing.
He has a whole party out there in his honor. So many people here to meet him. And he’s with me. Eyes on me. Thoughts on me. Cock inside me.
He cares about nothing else.
His body tenses, coiling, and I know he’s close.
“You need to come.” He fucks into me like a man possessed. “Come, right now, woman.”
He snarls and demands, and that’s what sets me off.
Blinding, blasting, every color shimmers through my vision. Every nerve, every pore, every cell melts into the electrifying connection we share.
He continues to fuck me, claiming my pussy. Right now, it’s his. He’s the one impaling it, stretching it, ruining it, and filling it with come.
“Frankie!” He roars, staring into my eyes and spilling inside me. “Fuck. Fuck. So fucking good.”
The kiss that follows is soft, nothing like the hard, demanding fuck against the door. But it was more than just a quickie. Words can’t explain the depth of our bond. But his mouth can. His teeth, tongue, and cock can.
He licks my bottom lip and pulls back just enough to say, “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too. Congratulations on Strakh Vodka .” I palm his firm, bare ass then give it a hard slap. “Let’s get you back. Your guests await.”