Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FRANKIE
Miller’s lips melt into mine, making every ounce of stress, anger, and worry that had built to a crescendo in my head and my body since Wade Skinner showed up drift away like they’re on a fluffy cloud in a calm breeze.
The scent of sweet, fresh sawdust on his cheek, the perfect pressure of his mouth on mine—gentle enough to be a little unsure, firm enough to show it’s what he wants—and the slide of his hand from my arm to my outer thigh, make me dissolve toward him, every muscle in my body relaxing, a delicious heat blooming in the most intimate part of me.
Where did this man come from? It’s as if he’s a gift that simply fell out of the sky two days ago, just when I needed him.
He’s certainly the best present my lips have ever known.
And in seconds his touch smooths away the harsh edges of the overwhelming emotions pent up inside me.
My fury at the developer, my desperation to hold onto the sanctuary, the self-doubt over whether I can do that all by myself, the bittersweet memories of Grandma, the inescapable reality of Grandpa’s aging, the fact that my time here trying to make everything right will likely jeopardize my prospects in my real job, and the embarrassment of crying in front of a near stranger who almost kissed me last night are all tempered by the fact that he is most definitely kissing me now.
Miller wraps both strong arms around me and pulls me to him at the same time as he inches closer and our mouths part, just the tips of our tongues teasing each other before they can’t bear the teasing any longer and search deeper.
Parts of my body that have been dormant for a long time don’t just stir and slowly awaken, they prick up their ears. The taste of him sets my nerve endings on fire. My right leg does what comes naturally and hooks itself over his lap.
His hand slides higher up my thigh and when it reaches my butt, he squeezes with the perfect amount of pressure, sending a shockwave right between my legs. And all the while our lips and tongues make instant magic.
There’s no getting-to-know-you period necessary here. Our mouths read each other perfectly from the first touch.
I claw my fingers into his lush, thick hair, the tears on my cheeks drying in the cool breeze blowing in through the open barn door.
On a deep inhale, I pick up the aroma of my body wash layered under Miller’s sawdust scent, and my chest trembles at the realization that he’s owned a part of me from that first moment when our eyes locked in the kitchen.
It’s like I’m pouring all the suppressed emotions that have been swirling around inside me into him and he’s soaking them up, easing my frustration, my angst, my desperate need to make everything work out for the best.
Miller pulls back for a second to brush his mouth over mine with such a delicate touch it’s hard to tell whether it’s his lips or the breeze.
He cups my face, thumb brushing along my cheekbone.
“Is it okay that I’m kissing you?” he whispers.
“I want you to.” My belly flutters. “And I don’t want you to stop.”
And I don’t want him to stop, because the hunger he’s awakened within me is a whole new sensation. It’s a new level of desire. Not just because he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on, but because he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t also kind and generous.
He’s the whole damn kit and caboodle, the lock, stock and barrel—the whole shebang.
And is this she, indeed, about to be banged?
Would that be bad?
Should I back off?
I don’t feel like I want to back off.
Particularly not now his mouth is on my neck, sending goose bumps dancing all the way down my side to my toes.
I never thought I’d do anything like this with a man I barely know. Not after Brandon. I’d known him for six months and still didn’t spot that he was lying to me about crucial parts of his life. So how dare I trust myself that I’m judging Miller correctly?
Because he makes me feel like I’m right, that’s why. Because there’s an air of comfort about him, a real what-you-see-is-what-you-get.
There’s no logic to that, no data to prove it. But maybe sometimes you have to step away from the data and choose your own adventure.
He kisses a line up to my earlobe and sucks on it gently, sending a groan from my throat and making me aware of just how very damp my underwear is.
“This is all I’ve thought about since last night,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. “I need to have a stern word with Dave about interrupting like that.”
A giggle tumbles out of me, making it more certain that I’m prepared to go from first kiss to naked in a matter of minutes—something I’ve never done before. But when faced with a man who has a list of attributes as large as Dave’s desire for carrots…how is a mere mortal supposed to resist?
“You just need to build a bigger fence to keep him in,” I say as I draw my fingers from his hair and slide them across his wide, solid shoulder.
“Tell me more.” He releases a soft, breathy laugh. “Being given handyman tasks seems to be driving me wild.”
His fingers graze the side of my breast, making my nipples as hard as diamonds.
“The water troughs need filling up.” My words stumble over my heavy breaths.
Then his hand finds its way under my sweatshirt where his fingertips brush the bare skin over my ribs, sending a full body shiver through me.
“Go on.” His smiling mouth is hovering over mine again now.
“Could you check if there’s a leak in the roof of the small stable?”
“So hot,” he chuckles while dotting kisses along my jawline.
When his hand glides higher and finds my breast, everything fades to darkness, like I’ve disappeared to a new dimension that’s lined with lush, black velvet.
“What else?” His mouth is on the other side of my neck now, teasing it with his tongue, making my fingers curl into the muscles of his shoulder and my whole body vibrate with desire.
“The handle on the feed bucket came off on one side.”
“Oh no”—his body rocks with laughter—“not that.” Then his fingers swiftly dip under the edge of my bra and find my nipple.
“Sweet Jesus,” I breathe, right before I claim his mouth again.
I can’t imagine it’s possible to be wetter than I am right now, or for my clit to throb with any more desperation for his touch.
Miller holds my leg tighter across his lap and presses his hardness into it.
I want this man and I want him now. I don’t want to think about any of the problems that are all around me, I just want to feel, to disappear into him.
I drag my hand down over the rise and fall of his bicep, the smoothness of his skin contrasting with the strength of the muscles below the surface, then duck my fingers under the bottom of his T-shirt to find the dusting of hair over his belly.
He sighs into my mouth at the contact.
As he massages my breast and tweaks my nipple, taking me ever further to a point I will never be able to crawl back from, I slip my hand inside the waistband of his jeans. The skin there is even smoother, even softer, even warmer, and I cannot wait to taste how delicious it is.
“Fuck, Frankie,” he groans. “You’re too much.
” His hips rock into my leg again. “You are so goddamn sexy.” Sparks shoot up my leg as his fingers slide up my inner thigh.
“And you taste so good.” I dissolve under the slow draw of his tongue up the side of my neck.
“And you feel so good.” A powerful hand kneads my breast with tender eagerness.
“And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my fucking life.
” His other hand reaches the apex of my thighs and cups my heat.
That’s it. I’m lost to the sensations coursing through my body, lost to Miller, lost to his hand sliding back and forth over my jeans.
“I want you, too.” My eyes drift shut and my head drops so far back it rests against the wall behind me. “So badly.”
I’m aware of a sound before I realize what it is—Miller’s phone buzzing in his back pocket.
“Do you need to ge—”
He kisses me as the buzzing continues. “Ignore it.”
When the sound stops, he lifts my shirt and pauses for a moment to take me in.
“Well, look at you,” he says with wonder before lowering his head to my bare skin.
His lips first make contact with a delicate spot right above my jeans, making my muscles contract and dance all at the same time. His mouth is moving higher when the buzzing resumes.
“Seriously.” The word leaves my mouth slurred. “Should you ans—”
“Ignore it,” he repeats more firmly, before swiftly lowering the cup of my bra and taking my nipple in his mouth.
At this point, if the barn around us was going up in flames, I’d ignore it if he asked me to.
There is nothing but shimmering stars behind my eyelids, nothing but need where his hand continues to press and slide between my legs.
I’m vaguely aware of the buzzing stopping and being swiftly followed by a sharp beep.
“For fuck’s sake,” Miller says, lifting his head and planting a soft kiss on the end of my nose. “Let me check it, then turn it off.”
I lift my leg off him so he can get to his phone. And then our bodies are no longer in contact. We’re sitting side by side on the stair just as we were a few minutes ago. Before everything changed. Before my panties were soaked and the cup of my bra was hooked under my right breast.
“Shit.” Miller says, looking at his phone. “Shit.”
“Bad news?” I ask, suddenly feeling cold without him pressed against me.
He rubs his forehead, then slides his sexy, veined hand into his hair. “It’s my assistant. She’s texted too. It’s urgent. I’m sorry. I have to call her back.”
Then his haste fades as he turns to me and slowly tucks my hair behind my ear again. “I know this is terrible timing. I’m so sorry.”
He plants a soft kiss on my temple, and I can’t help but lean into it.
“You made me forget who I am for a moment,” he whispers, before rising and jogging up the stairs behind me to the loft.
I wrap my arms around myself against the cold reality that’s settling on me.
I’ve never felt so lonely in my life.
This is why I don’t do things like this. Why I vowed after Brandon I would trust no one, let no one in until I was absolutely one hundred percent sure about them. Because this is always how it ends up feeling.
I push up off the step, tuck my breast back into its cup and, giving my damp face one last swipe with my sleeve, head toward the giant to-do list on the kitchen table.
I can’t go around kissing a man I barely know, can’t take the drain on my emotional energy when every ounce of it needs to be trained like a laser on one crucial thing.
I will figure out how to make this place survive before I have to go back to Chicago.
Because I have to.