Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Frankie
“What did she say to you?”
“Who?” His hand flexed on the wheel as he started to park the car. This late, there was a spot right out front of the inn.
“Lou.” Something was wrong with him, and it happened right after he talked to my sister.
Chandler got out of the car without responding, and I followed him to the entrance of the inn. I braced myself to argue—to demand answers—but the fight went out of me with a whoosh when he spoke.
“She’s worried about you,” he said low, unlocking the front door.
My throat tightened. Her and Kit and Nox. I saw the way the three of them looked at me tonight. Instinct told me they knew…something, but when it was only Lou who spoke to Chandler, I thought maybe I was being paranoid. Out of the three of them, Lou would be the last to be confrontational. Or so I thought .
“She’s always worried about everyone.” I waved off the concern and stepped through the open door. After a few steps, I stopped, realizing Chandler wasn’t behind me. I turned and found him with his arms braced on the doorframe like he had to hold himself back from coming inside.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes flickered. “What are we doing?”
I walked back to him and said, “Staying one last night at the inn.”
His body tensed. “I don’t think we should.”
A pit opened up in my chest. An impossible ache for a man I’d only known for a few weeks, most of which he’d spent being my adversary.
“What did she say?” I demanded, with an edge to my voice. I couldn’t imagine what power Lou had wielded over Chandler when he wouldn’t even sell his property to her.
“It wasn’t what she said, Frankie, it was the reminder of why we’re here.”
My throat worked to try and swallow. “We had an agreement.”
For someone who always had a plan, I sure was fighting hard for something that would be unknown come morning.
His eyes flicked up, their depths smoldering.
“No business. No relationship. No strings. Just a few nights of pleasure,” I reminded him, the twinge in my chest matching the tic of his jaw.
I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted one last night. Truthfully, I wanted more than one final night, but I was going to fight for the night I was promised.
I stepped closer, my hands finding purchase on the hard planes of his chest.
“Frankie…”
“What are you afraid of?” I murmured .
His hot stare roamed my face, marking it with goose bumps wherever it touched.
“Tell me.”
Chandler let out a pained groan like he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. And then his touch was there, his hands framing the sides of my face and holding it up to his as he murmured, “Having you haunt me for the rest of my life.”
I sucked in a breath and shivered. It could be nothing. A joke. A tease. But what if it meant more? What if it meant everything?
I shouldn’t have risked it. Shouldn’t have inched closer to the deep end of vulnerability. But I didn’t know how to be cautious. Not even when it risked my own heart.
“Then don’t give me a reason to,” I said softly. Don’t walk away. Don’t leave. Don’t let this be just one more night.
His jaw muscles popped under my fingers, and then his mouth came for mine.
The spark of our lips connecting turned into an inferno in a nanosecond.
We kissed knowing the night had an expiration, like the fuse of a bomb drawing short or the wick of a candle melting low. Our time locked in this moment was going to end, but while we were here, we were going to burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.
Our tongues tangled, the kiss scorching my mouth and then singing along every nerve to the end of my fingers and the tips of my toes. I didn’t just want one last night, I wanted one unforgettable night. One I could go back to when my business wasn’t enough. When I decided I wanted more from life. One that wouldn’t haunt me but humble me for ever thinking a connection like this could be everlasting.
Chandler growled and pulled me closer, his teeth biting my lip and then my jaw and then my neck. The thud of my pulse fed the pull of his mouth, where he sucked on my skin until he bruised me.
I whimpered, wanting every possible mark he could leave on me.
“What are you doing to me, Frankie?” he rasped, rocking his hips—his erection against my stomach.
My breath caught. It wasn’t what I was doing to him, it was what I wanted to do to him.
Two nights. One for my vulnerability. One for his.
I tugged on his hair, pulling his head away from my neck until our eyes locked.
“I want to burn you,” I murmured, my voice sultry and hoarse.
His body jerked, and then I felt his hand slide up my side, along my arm, and then take my wrist in an imprisoning grip. With his jaw pulsing, he dragged my hand down his torso to his waist. My lips parted with a swift inhale when he pressed his cock into my fingers, the thick length hard and straining to my touch.
“You already do, my little flame,” he rumbled, and my pulse tripped. His little flame . “Fuck,” he breathed heavy when my fingers started to squeeze and massage him.
“You know what I mean,” I murmured, licking my bottom lip.He hesitated for a beat, his stare tumultuous. “I want you to trust me.”
The hot whoosh of his breath was the only warning I had before his mouth crashed to mine. Once again, our flame went from kindling to wildfire in a blink.
The door banged as we shoved through it and then banged again when he kicked it hard to shut.
Tonight, our clothes fell into a trail of shadows behind us. Shoes kicked off. Clothes pulled from limbs. Everything disappeared into the darkness of the room as we stumbled toward the mattress.
His mouth was everywhere. A brand of lips and teeth and tongue on my jawline and then down my neck. I tipped my head back, gasping, and he lifted me into his arms, making my chest the target of his mouth.
He set his lips and tongue to one of my breasts, licking and sucking and swirling until my head spun and my limbs went weak. I clutched his head, holding tight as he lowered us to the bed, my wet core settling right on top of his hard length.
“You taste so damn good,” he growled and sucked hard on my nipple, sparks of pleasure ricocheting through me.
Even though my limbs felt like Jell-O, somehow my hips managed to rock against him, grinding my slick pussy along his cock.
“Chandler,” I groaned as he devoured me—marked me with the delicious bite of his mouth.
Everywhere he touched—everywhere he kissed—turned to fire. There was no other way to explain it. Nothing but scorching heat that physically altered me. It stripped away all my walls and changed my chemical makeup, and it was too late that I realized this night would destroy me. Irrevocably.
Because of him, I would never be the same.
The thought made me gasp. It made my eyes spring open, and the sight of his mouth on me, melting me to his touch, made me desperate to return the favor.
“Frankie—” He started to protest when I moved lower, so I crushed my mouth to his.
He clasped my face, and our tongues sparred, hungry and wild, until I pulled back, panting.
“I want to taste you,” I declared, watching his eyes darken.
He slid his hand from my jaw, his finger grazing my swollen lips, before he pushed two of them into my mouth .
“Do you?” he rumbled low.
Just because I couldn’t speak didn’t mean I couldn’t answer. Holding his gaze, I sucked hard on his fingers, watching his lips twitch as he let out a groan.
Chandler slid his fingers free, wiping them over my lips to wet them. “You’re going to need it.”
I shivered, saliva pooling on my tongue as his cock thickened against me.
“Go ahead and taste me, my little flame.”
I didn’t need any further invitation, slinking down over hills and valleys of muscle, my lips grazing over his hot skin until I hovered over his cock. My eyes flicked back to his, a thrill running through me at the way he watched me. Like he was Prometheus chained to the rock for starting this fire, and I was responsible for his punishment.
I wrapped my fingers around his girth, unable to close them completely as I guided the swollen tip to my mouth.
The noise he made when I fit him between my lips sent heat dripping from between my thighs.
I couldn’t help my small moan as I took him deeper, my hand feeding me more and more of his length until I started to gag. And that was only half of it.
“God, Frankie,” he groaned. “You feel so good. So fucking…”
I reduced him to grunts and pants when I started to move. Up and down. Sucking him hard. Stroking him with my tongue. His hands worked their way into my hair, massaging my head as I tried to take him deeper.
“Fuck, Frankie…” he hissed, his cock swelling thicker between my lips. “Fuck, that mouth of yours…” he groaned when I took as much of him as I could, his tip butting against the back of my throat, and tried to swallow.
His fist curled tight and yanked my head back. “ You want to burn me or blow me, my little flame? Because I won’t survive both,” he warned hotly.
I licked the saliva from my tingling lips, my gaze glancing hungrily to his cock. I wanted to blow him. I wanted to suck him so hard he’d swearI’d pulled his soul from his body. But not for our last night together.
Rising from between his legs, I picked up the candle we’d left on the floor from last night. “I want to burn you.” My tongue worked over the words as I lit the wick.
I trembled as I moved up to straddle him. His jaw pulsed wildly as I moved back on top to straddle him, his cock nestled against my core.
“I’m sorry. I only have cinnamon,” I said, watching the wax start to melt around the flame.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Because you don’t like cinnamon.”
“Why the hell do you think that?” he growled.
My throat bobbed. “Because…you always steer customers away from it at the store.”
His eyes went wide, realizing just how closely I paid attention to him while he was there. And then he was moving—pushing himself up and hooking his thick arm around my back to hold me close so our faces were level.
“It’s not because I don’t like it,” he rasped, his hand climbing to notch his fingers under my chin.
My brows creased. “Then why?”
His head came closer, his nose nuzzling mine for a second, before I felt him take a deep inhale.
“Because it’s your scent, Frankie.” His grip tightened possessively. “You smell like cinnamon, and… fuck, I don’t want anyone else to have that.” His eyes glittered. “I want it to be all mine.”
My jaw dropped .
His cinnamon.
Something surged like a coil unsprung in my chest, more powerful than anything I’d ever felt before. I felt the lightest graze of his lips over mine, and then he was gone—lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with desire.
“So burn me, my little flame. Make me yours.”
My throat bobbed, my heart rioting in my chest at his words. They sounded like so much more than this—than just pleasure for one night.
My inhale was buried into the bottom of my belly as I lifted myself up, reaching down and notching his blunt tip at my entrance as I held the candle high over his chest.
Our eyes sparked together. Locked.
I tipped it to the side and let the wax fall, impaling myself on his cock at the exact same time.
My jaw dropped, but it was his roar that filled the room. He was so big—so thick. A moan escaped at the way he filled me.
“Fuck, Frankie, you feel so good. So tight.” His hands roamed my waist and then gripped my hips like his body was a string about to snap.
I dipped my finger into the cooling pool of wax, tracing it out onto his skin like he’d done to me. He hissed.
“Is it too hot?” My voice sounded so sultry.
“Not as hot as your pussy.” His hands tightened, and he pressed deeper inside me, making me gasp.
Biting my lip, I rose up on my knees and tilted the candle again, sinking down on his cock as fresh, hot wax splattered on his stomach. My jaw went slack when his cock rubbed against my G-spot, pleasure exploding through me.
I knew I was supposed to be the one in control. The one with the candle. The one on top and in charge. But desire scrambled my brain. The swell of him inside me. The friction. The heat.
I couldn’t…I needed him.
One last night.
“Fuck me,” I panted— begged. “ Please fuck me.”
A growl reverberated out of him, and then my hips were no longer my own.
“Anything you want, baby,” he rasped and pressed himself deep. “I’m yours.”
His hips angled back, and then he slammed up into me. I cried out at the assault of pleasure on my G-spot. He shackled me to the mercy of his thrusts, holding me as he drove up hard into my slick, welcoming body.
“ Yes,” I moaned over and over, choking on the word because he fucked me so hard my breaths couldn’t keep up the pace.
Our bodies slapped together over and over. Between gasps, I tipped more wax onto his torso, relishing how each burst of pain made him drive faster. Harder. When my vision started to flicker and dim, I blew out the candle and let it roll out of my fingers and onto the floor.
“That’s it, baby. Take all of my cock,” he growled, and my vision wavered and then focused on him.
The flex of his forearms, a sheen of sweat on his skin. His core was tight, his muscles lay like bricks below me. I rested my hands on his chest—in the soft wax I’d left there—feeling it mold under my fingers.
“Fuck, Frankie,” he cursed, and pleasure coiled tighter inside me, every one of his thrusts rubbing that sweet spot buried deep inside me like it was made just for him to find. “Come for me.” He drove deeper, the mattress groaning at every seam. “Burn me with your sweet cunt.”
My core clenched, and I came apart with a scream .
My body spasmed around him, my muscles feeling out of control, and then he let out one last roar that shook my very bones. Holding my hips, Chandler thrust impossibly deep and held himself buried there, his big cock pulsing inside me. Filling me. Consuming me.
The pleasure. The pain. All of him consumed me.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, and only then did I realize I’d tipped forward onto him, and he held me to his chest, his fingers running a gentle path up and down my spine. “You okay?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.
My throat felt too tight to speak. Lying here with him, limbs and bodies entwined, my heart knocking against his…all of this—everything we’ve done, everything I felt—caught up to me and held me captive.
His fingers found my chin and lifted my head, and the tightness around my throat released, and with it, the words lodged inside.
“I’m yours,” I heard myself say back to him, my heart stumbling around in my chest.
A low rumble escaped his mouth as it lowered to mine, the kiss gentle and deep at the same time. His mouth played with mine like some kind of interrogation, and only when my mind was sufficiently scrambled did he pull back and murmur, “And if I want you for more than tonight?”
Hope burst in my chest like a fresh spring, my brain taking a moment to catch up to the rest of me before I could repeat myself.
“Then I’m yours.”
Sunlight buzzed over my back, slowly warming me to the idea of waking up. I slept like the dead last night, utterly exhausted from…
Chandler .
My eyes opened, and without having to look, I already knew he wasn’t in the bed.
All his things were gone, including his car keys.
I grabbed my phone from next to the mattress, my heart lurching a second time when the only messages I had were cryptic and from Lou.
CALL ME.
It was sent two minutes ago.
One thing at a time, I told myself, staring at the spot where Chandler had been last night. And then my phone started to vibrate in my hand. Lou.
I let out a deep exhale and answered, “Hello?”
“Frankie, where are you?”
“At the inn. Where else would I be?” My voice cracked at the end.
The excitement in her voice deflated when she asked, “Is Chandler there?”
Her excitement wasn’t the only thing that deflated when I looked at the spot where Chandler had slept last night. And if I want you for more than tonight?
A chill rattled along my spine. “No. Why?”
“Oh good.” Lou sounded relieved. “I got the call from his office this morning. He’s taking my offer.”
My breath went out of me like it was a yo-yo she’d called back with her words. “What?”
“The inn is going to be mine. Your plan worked!”
My head turned slowly to the side, the empty space on the mattress staring up at me like a canyon. The inn. Hers . Chandler. Gone.
“Frankie, did you hear me?”
Hear— yes. I jerked out of whatever I was in because I had to be there for Lou right now. “Sorry, spotty reception. I heard you. I can’t believe…that’s incredible, Lou.” I hoped my breathless voice came across as excitement that we’d won rather than the panic I truly felt wondering what I’d lost.
“I can’t believe it, Frankie. I can’t believe after everything…it’s finally over. It’s finally mine.”
Twice I tried to swallow before the tightness in my throat would let anything pass, let alone the words to reply.
“Frankie…”
“Yeah?” I attempted a smile, and it only served to make the first tear fall.
“Thank you.”
I stilled, her gratitude like the twist of a knife in my chest.
“If you hadn’t done…everything…I know the inn wouldn’t be mine. I know Chandler?—”
I inhaled quickly, his name like a knife in my chest.“Lou, don’t.” I cut her off and haphazardly wiped my cheeks.
What was this—who was this? Not me. Not Frankie. And especially not for an arrangement with an expiration date, no matter what was said in the heat of the moment.
There could be a thousand explanations for where he’d gone. Why he disappeared. A hundred scenarios where he’d show up with coffee or breakfast or a good reason for disappearing without a note. But I’d be a fool to hope for any of them.
The note was the inn—the note was his agreement to sell to Lou.
If he planned on staying or even coming back, I wouldn’t be hearing this news from my sister. No. The week was up. Our nights were up. His choice was to be made.
“I’ll never be able to repay you, Frankie.”
“I don’t want you to repay me,” I insisted. “I want you to promise me two things.”
“Okay.” Her tone became uncertain. Subdued.
“First, that whatever happens next, you’ll do whatever it takes to make the inn everything you dreamed it would be,” I said, swiping another tear from my cheek.
I heard her relieved exhale. Compared to the kinds of things I usually asked of people—of her—this was an easy oath to make. “I promise.”
My tongue grew heavy, loading the next words into the chamber of my mouth. “And second,” I began, ignoring the rattle in my voice. “Promise me that we’ll never talk about Chandler Collins again.”
Lou’s inhale was swift and pointed like the prick of a pin, releasing softly with, “Frankie…”
“Promise me.”
She didn’t hesitate this time. “I promise.”
I stapled a smile to my cheeks and replied, “Thanks. Now, why don’t you have everyone meet at Mom’s? I’ll grab coffee and breakfast from the Maine Squeeze, and we’ll celebrate.”
“Oh, but it’s not mine technically, yet?—”
“It’s yours, Lou, after all this time. We need to celebrate.” And I needed to start building new memories on top of old ones.
Her resistance toppled, and she agreed within moments. Perfect. Better to rip the Band-Aid off Gigi’s hopes now and make it clear in no uncertain terms that Chandler made his choice—concluded his business in town—and therefore was gone. And that I was completely fine.
The pain in my chest. The crippled thud of my heart. I only had myself to blame. I’d mixed business with pleasure, thinking I could pull them apart like oil from water.
But they were inseparable, like fire from a wick. With him gone, so was the flame, but its destruction still lingered. The charred scars of how I wanted more…and how I felt more with him.
You should’ve kept to the plan like you insisted he did, my heart accused.
I exhaled and stood from the mattress, releasing the vent so it could deflate. Within a few minutes, I was dressed and had what was left of our ghost-hunting campsite collected in a pile by the door. Even though Lou knew the truth—or part of it—it would be better if she didn’t see any evidence of what happened here.
My gaze swept one last time through the room, its emptiness mirroring the hollow inside my chest. Just like that, all traces of us were gone. All traces of him were gone. And that was the first moment I felt the inn was haunted. Not for everyone else, but for me. I’d never be able to walk through these doors and not remember the time I’d played with fire and ended up with the burn of a broken heart.