19. FRANKIE
NINETEEN
FRANKIE
“Your face is looking so much better.”
“Mmm. Say more nice things to me.” It’s been two weeks since the incident, and all I have left is a fading greenish-yellow bruise.
Jackson chuckles and drags his nose down my jaw on my good side.
He nuzzles into me, and my eyes flutter shut.
It’s been intoxicating getting to experience Jackson grow more comfortable each day.
He’s come so far from that first day he visited me—stiff, awkward, uncertain—back when I had to put his hands on me.
Now? Now he touches me freely. He doesn’t wait for me to kiss him.
I love it. Because I’m an attention whore who loves attention.
It’s also…well, it’s fucking heartbreaking.
I think Paulie, who has been the ass of all asses, is starting to see it too.
Jackson finally feels comfortable. He’s opening up—not just with me, but with the guys too.
He’s relaxed. Smiling. And not that fake cocky shit he used to wear on his face.
Those full lips curl softly, and his misty blue eyes shine.
I haven’t had the best experiences with men.
Okay, understatement. But I’ve still had experiences.
Before everything blew up with Nick, we had an amazing relationship, and he made me feel loved.
It was all a big fucking lie, but before I knew?
I had closeness, connection. Things Jackson has longed for his entire life. He deserves to feel those things.
Jackson kisses down my neck. That’s as adventurous as he’s gotten so far—when it comes to touching me.
Him kneeling on my shower floor, eyes glued to my dick while he stroked himself, lives rent-free in my head.
Bringing that powerfully built man to his knees with a single word? I shiver. Yum. Yumyumyum.
I draw in a sharp breath when his tongue meets my skin. His breath skims over me, lips dragging. I stretch my neck, and he sucks hard, tongue laving. I squirm. My cock is on full alert now. Damn, that boy is sucking me like he wants to suck other things.
Or wait…
My eyes widen, and I choke on a laugh, gently pushing him away. “Jackson Alessandro Vincenzo Salvatore Olander. Are you trying to give me a fucking hickey?”
He blinks slowly at me, his brow pinching more with each blink. “Where…what? How did you— My middle name is Elliot.”
I grin at him. “It’s much more effective when you scold like an Italian mama. Paulie and I shook in our boots when Mom broke out our middle names. When she was really mad, she’d add in more. That’s when we knew we’d really messed up.”
His eyes light up. “That’s fantastic.”
“So.” I cross my arms and raise my brows. “Hickey?”
His head dips, and he peeks at me through his lashes.
Well, fuck me to the moon and back. I was going to chastise him because I have a job and can’t pop on video calls with hickies all over me.
But screw it. He’s so damn proud of himself.
Cover me in love bites. I’ll just wear a scarf around my neck… in June.
“I got carried away.” He glances at my neck, and those light blue eyes glow as they trace the mark he left. He bites his bottom lip. “I left a…hickey.” His grin breaks free.
“Stop.” I shake my finger at him. “Stop being so fucking cute. It should be a damn crime.”
He just swats my finger away, grin not faltering in the least. “I’ve never given someone a hickey before.”
“Yeah. I got that, Mr. I’m Oh-so Pleased With Myself.”
His grin dims. “Sorry. This is probably really foolish and childish to you. You’ve had so much experience.”
“Okay, let’s not slut shame, darling.”
His eyes pop wide. “No—I didn’t mean—”
Dear fucking God. This man is a literal sweetheart. I have no idea how he pretended to be an asshole. “Relax, Jackie-babe. I was teasing.”
“Oh.” He shoots me that bashful smile I’m becoming so fond of. Then he rolls away from me and stares up at the ceiling. “Is there anything you…haven’t done?”
“Well, obviously. I’m sure there are an endless number of things. I’m down to get kinky, but Frankie is more into Kink Lite, you know? Like I’m not about to wear ears and a tail… Though for you? I’d probably try it.”
“Ears…and a tail?” He frowns.
Yeah, definitely not venturing there. “I’m guessing kinks weren’t really what you meant. Were there things in particular you had questions on?”
“You’ve done anal?” His cheeks pinken. “Both, uh…giving and receiving?”
I smile. What a cute way to say it, like we’re talking about the gift-giving of a penis. “I have. I…typically do not bottom.”
His head turns toward me. “How come? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“You can always ask, though I might not always answer. But I’ll answer this one.” I huff out a breath. “It’s just not really my thing. I’ve done it before where I’ve…enjoyed it? Or close to that. I guess I saw an inkling of what some people rave about. But it was a rare thing for me…”
I hesitate. But what the hell? Let’s unload all the bullshit.
“When I first started having sex, I thought I had to enjoy being dicked down to be a real gay. Like if I didn’t bottom, I wasn’t gay enough?
” I let out a groan. “God, it sounds bad saying it out loud. It’s just that society has created these stereotypes, and they’re shoved down your throat over and over again until you just…
believe them. It’s so fucking confusing.
I’ve always leaned toward the femme side, and I just assumed that meant my role was to bottom.
And that happened to be what other men wanted from me. So, I…put up with it.”
He rolls back to face me, dark brows heavy and knit together. “That sounds horrible, Frankie. So you were doing something that made you uncomfortable because you felt like you had to?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Yeah. It took a while to learn that I could set boundaries. That my wants were just as important as my partner’s.
It’s not really a unique thing, though. I think it’s hard for any young person to know that.
” I pluck at my bedding. “For such a small word, no is pretty damn hard to say,” I murmur.
“I get that. It wasn’t the same, but I get doing something because you felt like you were supposed to.” His gaze skitters away.
I give him an encouraging hum, but don’t push any more than that. It’s his story to tell if and when he wants to.
“I had sex with a girl once. When I was in high school,” he says stiffly.
“My family—” He breaks off, his body like stone next to mine.
When he finally speaks, the words are so tight the pain in them scrapes over my skin.
“Olander men are meant to be a certain way. My parents made it very clear that being gay wasn’t an option.
I couldn’t take my father’s comments any longer.
So, I did what I had to do to shut him up. ”
He draws in a shaky breath, then whispers. “That’s the extent of my sexual experience, and purely done because it’s what was expected of me. It was one of the most crushing days of my life. I, um, don’t want to talk about it. I want to erase it.”
“Jackson.”
Sad blue eyes meet mine, and it’s like a knee to the gut. I can see the long-ago pain in the broken shards of blue reflecting back at me.
“I’ll do everything I can to help erase it. To rewrite it.”
His lips tilt up in a small half-smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re already off to a good start.” He clears his throat. “But can you promise me something?”
“Depends.” I bounce my eyebrows. “Ears and tails, remember?”
He doesn’t smile, though. He slides a hand up to cup my jaw. “Promise me you’ll say no if you don’t want to do something. Like you bottoming for me? Off the table, okay? I want to experience things, but not at the cost of your comfort.”
I’m silent for a while, and we just watch each other.
“Why are you hesitating?” he finally whispers.
Because I’m jealous of the imaginary guy who’ll one day get to experience that with him.
Which is ridiculous. I’ve just admitted it’s not really my thing.
But I think I’m a little bit greedy when it comes to this man.
I’ve wanted a piece of him for so long, and now that I’m getting my chance? I want all the pieces.
Frankie doesn’t share.
Not when it comes to Jackson Elliot Olander.
“I promise. But it’s not off the table. I’ll just let you know if it’s ever something I want. How about that?”
“I think I can live with that.”
I huff out a laugh. “All right. What about you? Obviously, we have fingering and frotting and blowjobs, oh my.”
He chuckles. “That’s a very different Wizard of Oz than I’m used to.”
“A more fun one.” I wink. “But do you want me to top you?”
“Ummm…Yes?”
“Don’t sound so confident, love.”
“Sorry. I do want to try. I think I’m just a little more nervous than I already was after what you just said.”
My hand flies to his chest. “No. Jackie-babe. It’s completely an individual thing.
And I know for a fact it had more to do with me picking some real winners or not communicating.
If we get to that point, I promise I will do everything possible to make it mind-blowing for you.
Trust me, I know many men who love bottoming.
I know quite a few women who love anal too.
And, hey, if it’s not your jam, then you’ll know. ”
He instantly melts back into the bed and kisses my shoulder. “You’re right. I’m in good hands with you.”
I bite my lip. “You have no idea, love,” I whisper. “These hands are going to take the best care of you.”
His lips curve against my shoulder. “This is why I wanted it this way and not…with some random.”
“I got you, boo. Frankie at your service, for whatever servicing you require.”
His deep chuckle fills the room.
“Also. If you do ever want to talk to a man who loves being dicked down—just to get another perspective—I recommend talking to Shaney-babe. If I’m not mistaken, he has a shrine dedicated to Jed’s dick.”