12. — mother, may I. #3
“Maybe you don’t want me to say it,” Frankie said, reaching out to brush the back of her hand along his cheek, “but you still know it. And I know it. That can be enough.”
“Yeah, it can.”
“Can’t you tell me what’s wrong, though? Like right now. Because something is.”
“Every time I look at you, there’s a little piece of me that keeps thinking I’m just gonna ruin you. Like I always do. Like I’ve done with everything, even myself.”
Frankie smiled in that knowing way of hers. “Nico...”
“You asked.”
“Nico.”
“What?”
That came out sharper than he intended.
She didn’t even blink.
“I don’t know why you’re so scared of ruining me,” she told him, “you already did, and I’m telling you right here and now, there will never be another person who does for me what you do. Never. Keep ruining me. Please. It’s the best fucking thing that ever happened to me.”
“You say that now, when it’s good and we’re like this, but—”
“I’ll say it every day until you believe it.”
“Frankie—”
“Every day, Nico. Good, bad, and in between. Watch me.”
He did. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel. His heart fucking hurt. He wished the demons in his head didn’t matter like they did.
“It’s supposed to be a good night, not like this,” he said, laughing darkly.
Frankie unbuckled her belt and crossed the middle of the car to kiss him so hard it hurt. He swore he tasted blood from the force of her soft lips seeking his again, until his chin trembled and his jaw ached.
“You fucking idiot,” she breathed against his parted lips.
“Thank God you’re my idiot. It is a good night.
It will keep being a good night because I’m with you.
You’re nineteen, following a curfew because my father says so.
You hunt down a painting of my dead mother’s like it’s nothing.
You bring my dog to my fucking graduation.
What do you mean, not like this? I want it like this, Nico. I want you.”
What could he say to that? “Yeah, okay.”
She pulled away, but barely. “Now, you’re going to get out, grab that bottle of champagne you tried to hide in the back of the car, and we’re going to go inside so you can show me this place.
We’ll make a mess opening the bottle, and then you’re taking me into the shower with you so you can make sure every part of me is clean before you take me to bed. Do you understand me?”
Nico tried to shake his head.
“I’m not asking you to have sex with me. I think I figured it out. Why you pull back every time I try to push. You’re not just waiting for me to be ready, are you? You’re not ready, either.”
“Yeah,” he repeated shakily.
“Get out of the car, Nico,” she demanded.
One more, he chose to just do what he was told.
The bottle of champagne hardly made it past the threshold of the door before Nico managed to get the top off.
Barely thirty minutes later, he could still feel the shower head pulsating water against his lower back while Frankie’s moans melted into the pattering sound of droplets beating down and she got herself off on him.
The way she trembled and locked eyes on him in a bed he hadn’t paid a cent for as he found just the right way she liked for him to thumb her clit and finger fuck her into orgasm was exactly how she’d shuddered against his naked thigh while jerking him off.
“Come on, come on,” he panted into her quivering kiss, her tongue swallowing his next words down. “Tell me that’s the spot right there; that’s my girl.”
“Oh, my God, Nico,” she mumbled, folding into him all at once.
Her softest, warmest, wettest spot pulsated harder around him as her head fell back into the pillow.
He got to watch the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen all over again.
Her legs quaked, squeezing around his shaking arm. “Oh, my God.”
No, sex he couldn’t do.
Not yet. But this...
He’d do this anytime she asked.
Nico pressed a kiss to her grinning lips, feeling her catching breaths before those kisses moved down. His mouth made the same beeline the rest of his body did, a desperation like he’d never known crawling up his spine.
The same way she’d leaned back and opened for him in the shower, unsure but so full of trusting anticipation, she widened for him now.
His lips and tongue found the spot where her inner thigh met her center. Then, alongside the soft ridge of her outer labia.
Her breath caught louder, harder. “I think you’re almost too good at this.”
He open-mouthed kissed her pussy, his tongue flattening along her folds to suck her in. Tart pleasure found him, so distinctly her.
“A benefit,” he said as he grazed her clit, “finally.”
He looked up to find her watching him. Her fingers pressed against her parted lips.
“You are something else.”
Nico opened his mouth to respond, but a banging downstairs stopped him.
She didn’t hear it the first time, shooting him a hurt look when he immediately pulled away and got off the bed.
The second knock, her head snapped toward the opened bedroom door while he’d already grabbed his boxer-briefs to hurriedly pull them on.
And the gun from his bag.
“Don’t move,” he told her, heading out of the room with a t-shirt as well.
Nico stomped down the stairs as whatever nailed against the door continued to drum loudly.
He got the black shirt over his head when his bare feet hit the bottom floor.
He slipped the loaded and ready handgun behind his back as he came to the front door.
The first thing he planned to change in this house? The windowless entrance. He yanked open the door without warning, mid-bang, with a snarled, “Who the fuck wants to play a game with me tonight?”
Nico let that gun come out to his side, visible, when he saw who waited on the other side of the door.
Anthony Carcoli. Three duffle bags sat at the man’s feet.
Nico’s heart slammed against his ribcage and acid churned in his stomach. He hadn’t laid eyes on Carcoli in a hot minute, and it could have been a lot fucking longer as far as Nico cared. Staring at Anthony’s face brought up memories Nico would much rather forget.
“You.”
“Five million, plus ten percent to go along with the fact I showed up to make peace with you,” the man said. “That’s the apology.”
His black suit melted into the darkness around him.
The second thing Nico needed to change? The lack of lighting on his front door. Fuck.
“Nico?” came Frankie’s voice from behind him.
Carcoli’s dark eyes lit up at the voice, his brow furrowing. “Who’s that, Little Nicky? She sounds—”
“Get the fuck off my property, Anthony.”
Nico didn’t turn around to say anything to Frankie. He kept his eyes on the threat at the door. Money and words meant fuck all to him when far bigger things were at stake, and the two of them had bad history. Just as a bonus.
“Pass the money along,” Carcoli told him.
With that, the man turned to leave.
He really was making noise on the streets if he had keys to a house for less than a couple of days, and Anthony Carcoli already knew about it. He yanked those bags inside and shut the door with a loud slam, spinning around.
“You didn’t fucking listen to me,” he hissed at Frankie. “I need you to listen to me.”
She stood at the bottom of the stairs six feet away; a sheet wrapped around her.
He did his best to keep his tone level because he knew she hated yelling and fighting, but fuck.
It was hard. She couldn’t know how painfully his heart currently beat in his chest or the way his blood rushed in his head.
“That could have been so bad. It could have gone way different. Get dressed,” Nico told her.
Frankie shot him a look. “Excuse me?”
“We’re leaving. Get dressed now.”
She tried to question him further, but he darted for the kitchen where he’d left their phones charging on a docking station. The house was set up for immediate use, including food. Big Mike once used it as a meeting spot.
“The fuck are you calling me at this time for?” came a rough voice on the other end of the phone when Vauhn finally picked up Nico’s call.
“Guess who just dropped like five-point-five million on my new fucking doorstep, Vauhn?”
“Hell. Can you hold it?”
“No, I’m not keeping that shit here. Are you stupid?”
“I’ve got a teething kid here, and the wife’s—”
“Hey, sorry about your issues, bro, but I’ve got Salvatore Gallo’s daughter eyeing me from across the room.
So yeah, that trumps baby teeth and Big Mike would agree.
Trust me, there’s gonna be more teeth, and the wife isn’t going to let you off easy on those either.
You’ve got ten minutes before I’m out of here. ”
He hung up the phone without a reply.
It took Nico ten more seconds before he could turn around and face Frankie. He was sure anger waited there for him.
Lust stared back instead.
Her chin tipped up, and her tongue peeked out to touch her upper lip as she eyed him down. “So, uh, this is what work is for you?”
Blood went straight to his dick.
“Fuck, don’t do that now,” he told her seriously.
Nico started moving again, grabbing things they needed. Frankie watched him go, a grin playing at the edges of her lips.
“Okay, so a jealous Nico is a no-go, but work Nico,” she said airily.
“Move,” he ordered, helping her along back into the hallway for the main entry. It didn’t help that she sounded so hot and he could still taste her sex on his tongue. “And stop, please.”
Her laughter taunted him with every step they took back upstairs to get dressed. Like the most beautiful creature God had ever created which she was, Frankie whispered words that killed him.
“I can’t wait until you fuck me.”
“Oh, my God,” he mumbled into his suddenly shaking hand, his dick so hard it hurt, “please get dressed, babe.”
He was so in love with this girl. So absolutely ruined for her.
And fucking terrified because of it.