23. Chapter 23
Two Months Later
Sam gripped the box, feeling his heart thrum with excitement.
They had finally finished setting up the house with Frankie’s things, and the last of the boxes had been unpacked.
It had taken longer than anticipated because Sam had to pick up a few extra shifts due to Walsh’s temporary leave, and Frankie had to fly back to Boston a few times to finalize the paperwork for Joel and sell his house.
Frankie’s mom had been surprisingly difficult, too, refusing to let her only son move to LA without her.
But luckily for them, Tony helped calm her down by bringing the twins over to her house often over the past month.
Frankie was worried about her but knew that they had plenty of family to look out for her.
And they had also agreed to come back for every holiday for the next two years to pacify her.
Lou had recovered well after his fall, and Frankie had told him point-blank that he was moving in with Sam because they were in love, and they never planned on visiting him again. Before the bastard had time to process the shock, Frankie had left without a word.
Frankie later told Sam that he didn’t want his father to have the last word. He didn’t want to hear his anger or shame about his choices because he didn’t matter anymore. Sam was proud of him for finally standing up to his father.
Sam, too, finally did something about his mom. He had arranged for social services to check on her, and had scheduled a house cleaner to come by twice a month. Whether she opened the door to let them in was up to her.
Sam was planning a housewarming party for next month and had already invited everyone from work, excited for them to see that he was finally happy.
Frankie had invited over a few new friends he'd made as Caz’s coach, as well as Caz himself, who was currently on a winning streak, starting with his title fight win in Vegas.
Frankie had been nervous as hell to fulfill his agreement with Thaddeus Kozlov, but reported back to Sam that the introduction, though tense, went over fairly well.
Relieved, Sam was grateful that Kozlov hadn’t reached out to them since, and he appeared to be a man of his word, with no intention of retaliating against them.
But according to Frankie, Kozlov seemed a little fixated on Caz.
They both agreed to keep an eye on the young fighter to make sure he stayed safe.
The box shifted slightly in his hands, bringing him out of his thoughts as he braced it against himself, smiling.
He hadn’t anticipated that life could feel this sweet, this good again, especially after a year of uncertainty and loss. His days were full of love, warmth, hard muscly hugs, and laughter. And sex. So much sex that he was beginning to wonder if they had a problem.
A fucking fantastic problem, he thought as he shifted the box carefully in his arms.
This would be their last box to unpack. Tonight they had John and Wyatt’s engagement party at the Bull Horn. He had been looking forward to it. Getting to cut loose, dance, and celebrate true love, because that was what John and Wyatt had, and now what he had with Frankie.
He found Frankie measuring the wall in the office, preparing to install a bookshelf, pencil in hand, black hair draped over his forehead, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
“One last box,” he said upon entering.
Frankie snorted, “Never thought uprooting my entire life would require a million fuckin’ boxes.”
“This one feels light at least,” he replied, setting it down at Frankie’s feet.
Frankie slipped the pencil behind his ear, glancing at it, and frowned when it jostled on its own. His eyes snapped to his.
Sam leaned against the doorframe, casually folded his arms over his chest, and smiled. “Well?”
He opened the top folds of the box, and a brown and white puppy popped its head out. Frankie gaped, dropping to his knees instantly and gathering the pit bull puppy into his strong arms, melting like ice cream left out in the sun.
Sam’s throat clenched with emotion. “I figured we could name her Cali, or maybe Boston,” he said gruffly.
“Cali,” Frankie murmured, eyes misting. “She’s perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah,” Frankie choked out. “Come here.”
He did, and they hugged with Cali in the middle, who made sure to give both her daddies her excited licks as she eagerly squirmed in Frankie’s arms.
“I love you,” Frankie whispered, kissing him. “Thank you.”
“I love you more.”
“Impossible.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon with Cali, letting her explore the house, the backyard, and the garage, sniffing the tools and getting familiar with her new surroundings.
“I have a surprise for you, too,” Frankie said.
Sam had just finished setting up Cali’s bed in the corner of their room and led her to it. She plopped down on the oversized bed and promptly fell asleep. He chuckled.
“Yeah?” He asked and watched as Frankie peeled off his shirt, revealing his sexily furred chest and hard, rippling muscles.
Frankie’s hands hesitated at the bottom of his jeans, licking his lips nervously. “I was gonna surprise you tonight, but I don’t think I can wait.”
He frowned, wondering what surprise would make Frankie this nervous. He watched as Frankie’s fingers flicked open the top metal button of his jeans, revealing something soft and lacey.
Fuck.
Sam, overtaken with lust that ricocheted through his veins like a fucking firework, strode across the room and dropped to his knees, yanking Frankie’s jeans down to reveal black lace lingerie.
Jesus fuck.
He immediately pushed his face between Frankie’s legs, causing him to gasp and grab his head as Sam nipped hungrily over the silk covering his dick.
“Yeah, baby?” Frankie hummed, a delicious grunt escaping his chest.
He stroked his chin and lips over the silk, feeling the soft lace and the hardening cock. His blood thickened and his mind went utterly blank, feeling only this—only him.
He did this for him. He wanted to please him, and oh, he was thoroughly fucking pleased.
He listened to Frankie whimper above him as he tongued over the lace, gritting his teeth over the rigid outline of his dick.
He wanted to spend the rest of his day right here, on his knees, worshipping his sex in silk.
He grabbed Frankie’s jeans, shoving them off completely before roughly spinning him around and seeing the beautiful sight of olive colored ass cheeks and black lace.
He moaned, and no longer able to contain himself, jumped to his feet, dragging Frankie to the bed and pushing him down on his stomach, ass up.
Frankie sighed out a weak laugh. “Fuck, baby. I think you like this.”
He grabbed his ass cheeks, spread them apart, and buried his face between them, which caused Frankie to immediately gasp and buck in response.
He licked over his tight hole through the barrier of silk, feeling his lover tremble, and his own shaking hands grip harder on his cheeks, ruthlessly digging his tongue into him.
He needed more.
More. More. More.
Sam sat up, pulled the phone from his back pocket, and took a picture of his man just like this. Ass in black lace, looking so fucking good that he was seconds away from climaxing in his fucking jeans.
But he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to reward Frankie for this. He tossed the phone and yanked off his shirt and jeans, quickly returning to the bed, his cock throbbing as he shoved his hand over Frankie’s mouth.
“Spit.”
He did.
He proceeded to lube his aching cock with Frankie’s saliva, and with his free hand… smack his lacey ass before gripping it hard, leaving marks. Frankie shuddered beneath him, groaning into the bed.
He did it again and again. Slapping that tight ass, watching it bounce. All black silk and fleshy muscle.
“Fuuuuck…” he drawled, “You’ve never been fuckin’ sexier for me, baby.”
Frankie let out a whimpering moan this time, spreading his legs a little and arching his back, asking to be fucked. And oh, would he.
Sam fingered his tight hole through the silk, needing more. Feeling fucking feral with desire, he pushed the silk aside and tongued his entrance while stroking himself, feeling his tip leak in anticipation.
“Such a good fucking boy, dressing up for me,” he rasped, licking him lazily and messily.
Frankie trembled, moaning incoherently.
He shifted backward and, without waiting a second longer, pushed his tip into Frankie’s tight rim and thrusted forward, hard and fast. They both let out cries from the sensation.
His tight ass was gloving him like the lingerie, tight and soft.
He gripped his hips, fingers sinking into the silk, fucking him roughly, with utter abandon.
Frankie was cursing and shivering, dick still wrapped in the fine lace. His cock was so large that Sam felt it push out through the top, leaking with want. He rubbed his shaft over the silk, humming. “Fuck me, you have the sweetest fucking pussy, Frank.”
Frankie gasped loudly, then bucked, jerked, and came. It was so sudden, so fast, that Sam was too stunned to react. He felt Frankie’s ass squeeze around his cock, nearly making him cum.
“My sweet fucking pussy…!” Sam cried out, slamming into him as he listened to the sounds Frankie made for him. He jolted against him, another wave spilling out of him.
He climaxed. It was swift and brutal, annihilating him as he collapsed weakly against Frankie, spurting inside him, panting.
“Fuck,” he moaned into his back. Frankie fell forward, the weight of them both bouncing softly on the bed, and they sighed.
“How the fuck did I become the girl in this?” Frankie asked, grinning at him as he curled up next to him on his side of the bed.
“Probably because you denied your feminine side your whole life,” he replied logically. “And damn, I fucking love that you did this for me.”
Frankie blushed and shoved him playfully, glancing down at the underwear and looking mildly impressed. “They do feel really fuckin’ nice.”
He laughed. “How nice?”
“Wanna try on a pair?”
“You bought more than one?”
“Yeah, of course. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doin’.”
Sam barked out a laugh and woke up Cali, who whimpered at being left out of cuddles on their bed.
Frankie went to the bathroom, cleaned up and changed into a pair of briefs.
Then he snagged her off the carpet and brought her into bed with them.
She immediately twisted excitedly, kissing them on their chins and wiggling between them.
He sighed, wrapping himself around his best friend, his lover, his soulmate—and their new puppy. Contentment settled over him like a warm blanket.
“She’s gonna be spoiled rotten,” Frankie commented, kissing her forehead.
He hummed in agreement.
“I plan on spoilin’ you too, baby. Forever.” Frankie’s dark eyes suspended him in love. He reached across the bed, tracing his fingers over his lips, his silver bracelet bright against his tanned wrist.
Sam smiled dreamily, “You already have, Frankie. You already have.”
The End