One Last Verse

by N. N. Britt

  “I really am proud of you,” I said, resting my hand on his chest. His heartbeat was fast and strong and I liked the feel of its rhythm against my palm. “I know this wasn’t an easy decision for you.”

  He captured my chin and tilted my head up to meet his gaze. “Let’s pretend everything is fine, doll. Just for tonight.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  The theater Frank picked was in the heart of West Hollywood. His hand lay on my thigh as I forged my way through the vehicular hell on La Brea. Our windows were up and the new Black Rain Coming album blared from the speakers. Wrapped in the ferocious pulse of the music, we spoke very little. Words weren’t needed. Not right now, anyway.

  All this—the alluring neon signs, the crowded sidewalks, the shouting street vendors—reminded me of how much I loved this city. Its electric vibe surged through my veins like the wild drumbeat of an old rock ’n’ roll anthem. Warm and familiar, the feeling spread through my chest, taking over the fierce rumble of the engine and the muffled street noise.

  Dressed in all dark colors, Frank looked mysterious. Just like the night we met. A smirk danced across his lips when we reached the front of the theater. There was a small crowd near the entrance.

  “We can go through the back if you want.” He took his hand off my thigh and motioned at the next turn.

  “You want us to sneak in.” Turning on my blinker, I glanced at the rearview mirror and prepared to change lanes.

  “I made a few calls, but we don’t have to.” He shot me a mischievous smile, and his fingers returned to my skirt. “We’re public, remember?”

  “So you’re totally okay with walking into a theater with me through the front door?”

  “Doll, the entire planet knows we’re together.” He shrugged. “If they want to talk about us behind our backs, we might as well give them something to talk about.”

  “Are you sure, Frank?”

  “Yes. I’m sure. I want us to be a normal couple for one night.” His palm slid higher and my blood rushed to my cheeks.

  “Do you want me to drive into a pole?” I steered the car into the next lane and hit the brake.

  “No.” Frank laughed softly and put the fabric on my thigh back in place. “I just can’t stop touching you. You’re addictive, Cassy Evans. And you look fabulous.”

  The valet attendant rushed over to meet us. My stomach lurched when the door swung open. For a moment, I expected a barrage of paparazzi to appear from their hiding places, but nothing happened. No one except the security guard was around to escort us into the theater.

  Frank grabbed my hand and drew me closer as we mixed with the mass of warm bodies. Being seen with him in public felt both dangerous and exciting. A coat was thrown over his shoulders to conceal the sling, but with his sandy, fashionably disheveled hair and obvious sex appeal, he stood out from the crowd like a sore thumb. Famous people could never blend in. They had something special, something that radiated all around them the same way it radiated from Frank right now, something that turned heads.

  The inside smelled like popcorn and hot dogs, and people hurried to their theaters. One of the managers met us in the foyer and showed us to the ticket booth that had just opened up.

  Curious glances were sent our way. A few cell phone cameras flashed. It was starting—the madness. In my peripheral, I noted a few people approaching.

  “I think you’ve been spotted,” I whispered to Frank as he gave his Amex to the theater employee.

  He squeezed my hand. “We’re not hiding, remember?”

  “No, but something tells me we’ll be late for the showing.” A rush of anxiety shot through my stomach.

  The kid in the booth pulled up the seating chart on a monitor and Frank selected a dozen.

  “Why are you buying so many?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to sit next to anyone else when you’re with me.” He grabbed the tickets and the card.

  I was regretting my decision to try to be a normal couple for one night. We were surrounded in seconds. Hands with phones shook in the air. Theater security had to step in and ask some of the people to move aside.

  “I’m very sorry, guys,” Frank said, his voice firm and commanding. “I’m afraid we don’t have time for photos.” He produced a megawatt smile that was met with a collective gasp.

  The crowd quieted to hear him better.

  “We don’t want to miss the movie, but if anyone was planning on getting popcorn, we’re headed that way. I’m buying.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears.

  Frank dipped his head and whispered against my cheek, “You want popcorn, right?”

  “Sure.” I nodded. My face was on fire.

  The entire lobby flocked to the concessions area with us. Frank’s hand wrapped around my waist was the only barrier between me and the chaos. I could feel the breaths of strangers on my back. I could feel their adoration, their curiosity, their desire. Men and women of all ages stared at us as if we were alien species.

  “I’m buying for everyone.” Frank handed his Amex to the cashier and motioned at the crowd. “You can hold on to the card. We’ll grab it after the show.”

  Dozens of popcorn bags rustled behind the counter. Once we received ours, the security guard ushered us to the auditorium. We sat at the far back, surrounded by a bunch of empty seats. Another guard hid in the shadows.

  "You really outdid yourself with the popcorn,” I joked.

  “You told me I had too much money. I thought I should start feeding the masses.”

  “And you decided to start with a movie theater.”

  “Practice.” He shrugged. “Before I leave for a third world country.”

  “You don’t have to do this to impress me, Frank.”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to do here.”

  “Then why did you buy half the seats?”

  “I don’t want people to stare when I do this,” he explained, capturing my mouth with his. It was so sudden, I didn’t have time to react. I gave in to a delicious slow-burn dance of our lips instantly.

  On the screen, the trailers played.

  “You think you can just kiss me any time you want?” I whispered as our mouths broke apart.

  “Oh, I think you want me to.” He grinned, plucking a handful of warm popcorn from the bag.

  “What gave you that idea?”

  “It’s the dress, baby,” he said against my mouth.

  I returned his kiss. A soft, almost chaste brush of our taut lips. And while forgetting the last few weeks of nightmare we’d become wasn’t possible, this calmness that he was today felt nice, felt promising, and I allowed it to swallow all my worries. I needed these memories too.

  The movie was a blur. I couldn’t concentrate on a single scene because my mind kept drifting back to Frank’s hand holding mine. By the time the final credits rolled, I was a hot mess between my legs and dying to leave the theater. I hated that he had that effect on me. I hated how much his touch stirred me up.

  “It’s probably best we wait here for a bit,” Frank said after the manager approached us to return the Amex along with the mile long receipt and to let us know about the crowd gathered outside.

  “Maybe we can sneak out this time?” I offered.

  “Did it freak you out?”

  “What?”

  “The people?”

  I nodded. “A little.” In a way, crowds were my specialty too, but today’s lobby incident had unsettled me. The experience was equally eye-opening and terrifying.

  Frank shifted in his seat and looked down at me, his gaze roaming my face. “I’m glad you agreed to this.”

  “Did you like the movie?”

  “It was”—his features hardened—“intense.”

  I bit back a smile. Something told me he hadn’t been paying any attention. “You had to really think about it, huh? Was Blake Lively not that impressive?”

  “Oh, she was very impressive.” He grinned.

 
; “You and your unhealthy obsession with other women.” With a pout, I slapped him across his chest. It was just a light pat, but it triggered something in me and cold panic rushed through my stomach.

  Frank didn’t move. His eyes were still locked on mine.

  “I’m sorry I pushed you,” I said quietly, my voice trembling.

  “I was wasted and I’m sure I deserved it.” He took my hand and rested it against his pec. “I wanted this to be a fun night. Let’s try and get out of here, huh?”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  Frank waved at one of the guards and asked him to have the valet attendant bring the car to the rear of the building. We left the theater a few minutes later and used the back exit.

  Outside, the air was fresh. A couple of fans approached Frank to ask for an autograph while I slid behind the wheel of the Ferrari and waited. The kids seemed thoroughly impressed that Frankie Blade took time out to talk to them. He politely refused photos but signed T-shirts and shook hands.

  Watching him with other people filled me with warmth. He was kind and attentive, despite the fact that these little uncomfortable moments cut into his everyday life. Or maybe this was his everyday life. He’d said so himself. Celebrities were a different breed. They sacrificed their privacy in exchange for immortality. In exchange for their rightful spot in history. Be it politics, science, or music.

  Once Frank got to the car, the smile on his face fell. “Let’s get out of here.” He fastened his seatbelt and rested his hand on my thigh again as if he needed to touch me to keep going. His knee jerked.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, shifting gears. The growl of the engine muffled my voice.

  Frank turned his head to look at me. His palm on my skirt remained fixed. “I am.”

  I knew he was lying. My father had also gotten antsy when he didn’t get his fix of alcohol. Difference was, my father never acknowledged he had a problem. My lover did.

  We merged into the traffic on La Brea and came to a stop at a red light. The Ferrari purred like a wildcat. The tinted windows hid us from the eyes of those who wondered to whom this half-million-dollar car belonged. I wasn’t sure my guess at the price tag was correct, but Ashton had once taken the liberty to Google-stalk my boyfriend and that was the alleged amount that had come up online. Although tabloids were never a trusted source of information.

  “I had a really nice time,” I said, trying to ignore the sudden need in my core when Frank moved his hand up my thigh.

  “I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve taken a woman to see a movie.” Readjusting his seatbelt, Frank shifted to face me. Then his head neared mine, eyes sparkling, and his hand slipped to the back of my neck to pull me in for a kiss. The assault of his lips was unexpected and raw. He didn’t tease or prepare me. He took what he wanted with aggression. I didn’t know whether he needed a distraction from what was happening in his head or he wanted me for the same reason I always wanted him—because we were recklessly addicted to each other. Whatever his motive was, though, I welcomed it and I gave in to him.

  My foot on the brake shook and my entire body lit up. I clutched the steering wheel harder. Adrenaline filled the air, forcing out oxygen and the remains of our common sense.

  We were surrounded by hundreds of hungry-for-gossip eyes.

  In my peripheral, the green light flashed. Chest heaving, I broke the kiss unwillingly and hit the gas. The vehicle responded with a rumble and a jerk. It had taken me a while to truly understand the power and the beauty of this car and why Frank loved it so much.

  Fingers still tangled in my hair, he rasped against my cheek, “My girl looks very sexy driving a Ferrari.”

  I liked that he was never afraid to give up the lead, that he didn’t have to be in charge all the time. In sex or otherwise. We fit together perfectly.

  Frank leaned back in his seat and returned his hand to my skirt. Pleasant chills rushed through me as his apt fingers stroked my skin.

  We slowly pushed through the gridlock packing the Hollywood Freeway entrance. I wiggled and parted my legs when the car came to another stop. He caught on quick. His hand slid to my inner thigh and found the lace of my panties. The playful brush felt like almost too much. Even through fabric.

  I reminded myself to breathe. My heartbeat was like a Slipknot song, savage and loud.

  Frank turned to me and I felt his gaze burn my right cheek. My eyes stayed on the dark road, littered with lights, but my mind was elsewhere. In the land of dirty desires and naughty fantasies.

  “Have you ever had an orgasm while driving a Ferrari, doll?” Frank asked, bringing his body closer to mine. His fingers rubbed my clit. My panties remained in place, but I was so wet and sensitive, I felt every movement.

  “I don’t think I have.” Lust filled my voice.

  “Looks like it’s an evening of firsts for the both of us.” He dragged his lips across my cheek and nibbled the tip of my ear. More chills raced down my spine. His skillful tongue caressed my earlobe and his hand continued to work on my sex. This was the most reckless drive of my entire life. My priority shifted. Was it an orgasm or was it getting us back to Malibu safe?

  I was teetering on the edge of coming undone when we finally entered the freeway. The tremor of the car only amplified my need as every nerve spasmed.

  Frank was panting. With a growl, he pushed my hair aside. His mouth drew a wet path down the hollow of my neck. He had the best lips a man could possibly have. Not too plump and not too thin, not always demanding and not always soft. Just the right amount of everything. A certain touch for each moment and for each feeling I needed to experience.

  My every muscle was strained and my arms and legs felt like jelly.

  “Frank?” I called, staring at the cars ahead of us.

  “Mmm?” He kissed my shoulder as his fingers massaged the sensitive area between my legs.

  “I need—”

  A light pinch to my clit cut my words off. They stalled somewhere between my throat and lips, a lingering whisper on the tip of my tongue. My hips bucked.

  “What do you need?”

  “I need to get off the damn road so you can finger fuck me properly,” I moaned deliriously. My eyes struggled to stay open. My hands struggled to stay on the wheel. Sexual euphoria swept me under.

  “Take the next exit,” Frank murmured, slipping his hand under the lace of my panties. The feel of his fingers against the rawness of my sex made me gasp. I was soaked, dripping against his palm. Shaking.

  “Do you like when I do this?” He rubbed my clit, then his index finger parted me and nudged its way inside. Just a little bit. Enough to draw another moan from my lungs.

  Dizzy from the subtle intrusion, I nodded. “Keep going.” My nipples ached for attention. My stomach quivered.

  Frank pushed his in finger farther. “How about now?”

  Want rolled through me. Heart thundering, I changed lanes. My body shivered from the overload of sensations his lips and hand unleashed.

  The car headed for the ramp. We got off the freeway and drove down a dark road that weaved between the hills. I noted sparse properties hiding among the abundance of trees and the lack of lights. This neighborhood looked like the one Frank took me to during our second date, filthy rich and secluded.

  Perfect for a quick round of sex.

  He kept working me until we pulled into an empty lot at the top of the hill. The shimmer of the night city down below and the curve of the freeway peeked at us from behind the heavy branches. I shut off the lights, dropped the back of my seat, and spread my legs wider to give him access. The engine still hummed and music still played.

  Frank lost his seatbelt and spun to face me. Two fingers dipped in. He pumped me fast, his intense gaze locked on mine. I writhed from the waves of pleasure shooting through my limbs. My dress was bunched up around my waist and my bra felt too small for my breasts.

  “For someone who claims to be right handed, you’re very good,” I horsed out. My hips moved, looking t
o match the rhythm of his fingers. He met me halfway.

  “Doll, just wait till I get both my hands back in action.” His deep voice meshed with my moans. “You won’t be able to walk.” A smirk passed his lips.

  I laughed raggedly. “Oh, I’ve already seen what you can do with two hands. I can’t wait to see what other tricks you have in store.”

  We were the definition of indecent. The seat underneath me was damp and sticky. The windows began to fog.

  Frank curled his fingers inside me and stroked my clit with his thumb. The combination of pressure was just right. I shook. My climax was close. Waves of pleasure rushed in. Oh, yes, right there.

  “Let me see you come, doll.” He watched me as his hand continued to work.

  “I want to see you come too.”

  “That’ll be two rounds for you.”

  “I can handle two rounds.”

  Frank twisted his fingers, eliciting my release. I came with a scream. Sweat coated my forehead. He dropped his face to mine, capturing my mouth in a slow, wet tongue-on-tongue kiss. His hand slipped from between my legs and cupped my ass.

  I reached for his jeans. He was hard as a rock and begging to be taken care of.

  “Let me help with that.” I smiled against his mouth and pushed myself up. “Lie back.”

  “Oh, I love it when my girl is bossy,” he murmured, returning to his seat.

  I pulled off my panties and crawled over to straddle him. He was beautiful and he felt like my own personal sex machine.

  We kissed messily, as if we had a deadline to meet. He bit my tongue. It was just a nip, on the edge of rough but smothered with softness. I reciprocated and drew his lower lip between my teeth. Our mouths battled for control. His hand roamed my breasts.

  “Take off your bra, baby,” Frank requested and fell back to watch me. “Let me see you.”

  I did as he asked, pulling the dress off my shoulders and freeing my breasts. Cool air pinched my skin and goosebumps covered every inch of my body. My nipples were hard and achy.

  “You’re so fucking hot when you’re like this.” Frank sucked in a loud breath through his teeth, staring at my naked body. “Salacious. On top of me.”