23. Frankie
23
FRANKIE
“ I ’m good at chopping.” I sliced a knife into the carrot. “You like beef, right?”
“Yes.” Reath had just opened a bottle of red wine. He poured two glasses and handed me one.
“Thanks. I like to think of cooking like an experiment. The ingredients, the recipe, the steps that I need to follow.” I set my shoulders back. “I’ve got this.”
“Relax,” he murmured.
I pulled a face and sipped the wine. “I always burn things, and even when I follow the recipe. Things always go wrong.”
He looked amused. “Something I don’t think you’re used to.”
“No. I was a nerd at school. I wanted to get good grades, and not cause my mom any extra problems.” I sipped again. “She had to go back to work after dad died, and she was heartbroken over losing him.” I looked at the recipe again. “Surely I can cook a simple meal.”
“What can I do to help?”
I stilled. “You’re already doing so much. I’ll never be able to thank you.”
A groove appeared on his forehead. “I don’t want your thanks, Frankie.”
“I know, that’s why I’m attempting to cook you dinner instead. Can you slice the beef?”
He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, which made me drool. I sipped my wine hurriedly and turned back to the recipe.
“There’s a creamy sauce to go on it. It looks tricky.” I frowned as I studied the instructions.
I carefully followed the directions, stirring in cream, garlic, and some other spices. I stirred the pot, watching it cautiously. It smelled good.
“Looks like you’re doing just fine.”
“Thanks.” I popped a piece of chopped pepper into my mouth. “Next up, I’ll be trying some classic New Orleans recipes.”
“I bet Lola could give you some lessons.”
“You think?” The gumbo at lunch had been amazing.
“I’ll ask her.”
“Thanks.” I stirred the sauce. “Do you want to talk about Auclair?”
“Not really.” Reath sighed. “He’s not giving up.”
“And I’m not letting him get my project.”
Reath smiled and my heart skipped a beat.
Then I smelled burning.
“Oh no.” I rescued the pot from the stove and stirred frantically. “I think it’s all right. I really, really suck at cooking.”
A hand stroked down my hair. “Take a deep breath. You’re doing fine. I think you’re trying too hard.”
I loved it when he touched me. I leaned into his palm.
“Frankie,” he murmured. His body pressed behind me, pinning me to the counter.
“You shouldn’t say my name like that,” I whispered.
He pushed my hair to the side, and then his mouth was at my ear. “Why?”
“It gives me ideas.”
His teeth scraped my neck. “What ideas?”
I shuddered. “Your mouth on me. Your hands touching me.”
“Where?”
God . I was turning to mush. I licked my lips. “On my neck. My breasts. My belly.” I dropped the wooden spoon into the pot, and gripped the counter hard. “That’s all I think about. You.”
He pressed his face to my hair. “I think about keeping you safe. Keeping you close.”
“Reath—”
“I want you making those sexy sounds you made on the couch. I want to be touching you so I can make you sigh, gasp, and cry out my name.”
I moaned.
He gripped my hips, spun me, and lifted me onto the island.
Then he started unbuttoning my shirt.
“Just sex?” I panted.
Brown eyes met mine. “Just sex.”
“Good. Sex is good.”
He pushed me back, until I was lying flat on the counter. He flicked open the front clasp of my bra, freeing my breasts.
He leaned over me, his mouth running down my collarbone, between my breasts. A hot, fiery trail.
I slid my hands into his hair, writhing. Then he sucked one breast into his mouth. His tongue flicked over my nipple and I bit my lip. He took his time, teasing my nipples and stroking the curves of my breasts. So much of it that I was losing my mind.
Then he straightened and dipped his fingers into the pot of sauce. “Mmm, this has cooled off nicely.”
He dripped the creamy sauce over my breasts, down my bare stomach.
I sucked in a breath. It was still warm and everywhere it touched felt super sensitive.
He lowered his dark head and started licking it off. He sucked on my nipple again.
“God, Reath .” It was hard to stay still.
“I can’t get enough of you. Your taste, touch, smell.”
“Take whatever you want. Please .”
His mouth moved lower. His hands were at my waistband. Then he yanked my jeans and panties down my legs.
I was naked on Reath’s countertop. My belly clenched.
He pushed my thighs apart, and I felt his breath on my most sensitive skin. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, then his mouth was on me.
I arched up and cried out.
It was so good . So much .
He worked me with his tongue and lips. He took his time exploring, teasing, tormenting. Every lick drove me higher. His big hands cupped my ass, holding me up to that far-too-skilled mouth.
A husky sound escaped me. Okay, more than one.
“Beg me, Frankie. Tell me what you want.”
“Please…make me come. Please lick and suck me until I come.”
“My pleasure.” He yanked me closer to the edge, his head buried between my thighs.
He lapped at me wildly, long licks followed by small, feathery kisses. Then his tongue circled my clit, and I let out a frantic cry. He sucked my clit hard.
I felt my release thundering closer. I tried to hold it back, but the rush of glorious sensations was too strong.
With a thigh wrapped around his head, I came hard, and screamed his name.
“I do love the way you come for me, Frankie. My sweet, sexy scientist.” He pressed a kiss to my quivering belly. “The hottest thing I’ve seen.”
It was hard to imagine while I was a naked, quivering mess on his kitchen island, but the way his gaze moved over my naked breasts said otherwise.
“You’re the hottest thing I’ve seen.” Especially with his lips slick from feasting on my pussy. “I want more.”
He ran a hand up my thigh. “So demanding.”
“I want you.” I arched my back and his gaze fell to my breasts again. “I want you inside me, Reath.”
Heat slashed through his dark eyes.