All His Regrets (Manhattan Misters Book 3)

by Maya Hughes

  You could definitely survive for at least a week without food. I grabbed a robe off the back of the bathroom door and slid it on.

  John's gentle knock sliced through the quiet and solitude of the bathroom.

  "Frankie.Are.You.Okay?" His muffled voice filled with concern, which made me want to cry. I zipped my lips together. Maybe he'd think I was gone. Evaporated into thin air and slid out under the front door. It wasn't like there was anywhere for me to go.

  "Frankie, as much as I wish I could, I can't see through this thing, so I need you to tell me you're okay." I hated the concern in his voice. Like I was some kind of broken thing. I wasn't. And it made me feel a hundred times worse that I hadn't told him. We were supposed to be turning over a new leaf.

  I didn't even want to know what was running through his mind. I was afraid to have the conversation that would come once I opened that door.

  "Frankie, are. you. okay?" he asked again, the worry laced even deeper. I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want him to worry. Didn't want him to freak out. Ha! I could say the same thing about myself.

  "I'm fine," I said, barely raising my voice above the running water from the sink. There, he knew I was alive, I was fine. He could back off.

  "I need you to come out here."

  "I think I'm just going to hang out in here. It's spacious and comfy."

  "Would you please come out here?"

  I leaned my head against the door, a gentle thud hitting against the wood.

  "I really don't want to, John." And I didn't. I didn't want to face him. Barely wanted to face myself.

  "Francesca, I need you to come out here." And just like that all my worries were replaced by anger. He knew how much I hated my full name. So now, he was just trying to get a rise out of me. I knew why he did it. Talk about one way to get me to do exactly what he wanted me to. Fine. If he wasn't freaked out, then neither was I.

  I whipped the bathroom door open, and it flooded the bedroom with the light from the bathroom. John stood just outside the doorway with the look of concern still on his face. I didn't want him to look concerned. I wanted that look he gave me before. That look that made me feel like I could make him forget his own name. Like there was no place he would rather be, than in the room with me. Like he couldn't get enough of me. Because I couldn't get enough of him.

  He took a step closer to me, but I didn't back down. He stared at me for a moment before his fingers threaded into my hair and he crushed his lips to mine. Yes! I parted my lips to ask him what he was doing. But he took that as an invitation, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues danced. His taste sent a tingling down to my toes.

  Everything wasn't ruined. We could still do this. I still wanted to do this. Now that I didn't think we were going to have to have the embarrassing heart-to-heart that would come with finding out he had just devirginated me. His hands slid along my back, gliding along the fluffy robe.

  His hands slid down to my ass and squeezed both my cheeks. I moaned and ground myself to him. Maybe it was like ripping a Band-Aid off and this time it would be better. I could salvage the night.

  "Frankie, wait." But I didn't want to wait, I wanted to keep going. Kissing him along his jaw. But he finally put his hands on my shoulders, his fingers wrapping around them and staring at me. "Wait."

  I dropped my head, not wanting to look him in the eye. If we kept on with the sex, that would be easy, but talking would be hard. I dropped my hands from his shoulders and took a step back. He kept his hands on my shoulders. The warmth from his skin seeping through my robe.

  "Is that why you invited me here? Wanted me to share your room?" he asked, his voice rough. My eyes snapped to his, and a little panic creeped into my voice.

  "What? No!" My shoulders sank. "I didn't expect this at all. I'm sorry if you feel like I tricked you. That wasn't what I planned on doing. It just felt so good, and I wanted to. I wanted to keep going, because I liked everything we were doing. I...I didn't know how to tell you. A lot of guys are freaked out." His jaw was tight and his fingers pressed into my shoulder a little before he seemed to force himself to relax. I stared down at the floor, not really sure what came next.

  "Well, that's where you screwed up. I'm not a lot of guys. And the only thing that would have been different if you told me, is I'd have gone slower, made it better."

  He ran his finger under my chin and lifted my head until I met his eyes.

  "Are you okay?" He emphasized each word and searched my face waiting for me to respond. My heart fluttered at the look of concern on his face. I felt bad that I'd worried him so much, but loved that he cared.

  "I'm fine. Really. I'm sorry, I sprung that on you. I...I didn't know how to tell you." I resisted the urge to drop my eyes.

  "I wish you had," he said, sliding his hand up the side of my face. He rubbed his thumb across my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. The rough pad of his finger slid across my skin and then came to my mouth. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip and the pulsing in my clit was back. I glanced up at him as I bit his thumb. Desire bloomed in his eyes, and his pupils dilated as I reached up and raked my nails across his scalp. I ran my tongue along the tip of his thumb, and he clenched his teeth together.

  "Frankie..." There was a warning tone in his voice.

  "I'm ready to try again." I said, letting go of his thumb. He growled and lifted me up, sitting me gently on the bed. My robe fell open and I leaned back as he tugged the robe’s belt completely open. I glanced down at the way his cock was tented in his boxers and licked my lips.

  "Don't do that," he said, chastising me.

  "Do what?" I asked innocently.

  "You're going to make me lose what little self-control I have. Stop looking at me like that," he said, pushing his boxers down. His cock sprung up, right to attention. I reached out and he caught my wrist. His hand wrapping around my wrist and bracelet with the rope from his wrist cuff scraping against my hand. A shudder raced through my body.

  "If you touch me, I can't promise I'll be gentle," he said, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

  "Who said I wanted you to be?" I challenged. I let my legs fall apart and wrapped them around his waist. His cock rubbed against my wet pussy. It glided between my lips and bumped against my clit. John sucked in a sharp breath and rocked his hips into me.

  "John." He was in his own world with my hands pinned above my head and his other hand beside my head. "John!" His eyes snapped open.

  "I need you," I said, not even ashamed by the need in my voice. He let out a deep breath and lined himself up with my opening teasing me with the crown of his cock.

  I cried out as he pushed into me. My body opening to him. My toes curled as he pressed deeper into me. His cock split me open, but not like before. This was slow, with every nerve ending in my body firing as he sunk deeper. His eyes were on me the entire time.

  "More," I begged. "More, John." I lifted my hips and tightened my legs around him, so that he lost his balance and fell, slamming completely into me. It took my breath away, and he tried to pull back, but I tightened myself around him.

  "Jesus, Frankie. What the hell?"

  "Don't move," I said, my pussy involuntarily clenching around him.

  "Fuck. Fuck," he bit out a string of even more curses. "I need to move."

  "Please," I said, moving my hips. There was still some pain, but not like before. This pain only made the pleasure feel that much better, and there was a lot of it. He reached down after a few seconds and his thumb grazed my clit. It was all I needed, and he set me off like an explosion. I screamed so loud, I was afraid I might have deafened him.

  My nails dug into his back as I came down from my first orgasm, only to have him shift his hips, so each movement made him rub my clit harder. It was like my body was attached to a live wire. This was so much better than I'd ever dreamed.

  Nothing I'd watched through my screens at the club compared to this. John's weight settled onto me as he held onto my shoulders, using them as lever
age to hammer even harder into me. I grabbed onto his face and pressed my lips to his. He tasted like peppermint and sweat. My tongue danced with his before he groaned into my mouth, his muscles coiled and bunched as he came. I felt him expand, and his orgasm sent me off on another of mine. I swear, John Grimsby was going to be the death of me.

  He collapsed on top of me, but managed to keep most of his weight off me. He ran his lips along my neck and pulled out of me. We both groaned as he fell free from my clenching pussy.

  After wiping me down with a wet cloth, he rearranged me in the bed. I was pretty much dead weight at that point. He nestled in behind me with his cock at half-mast, nestled against my butt. It was like we were drifting on a cloud, and not just because of this mattress. I snuggled in deeper into his hold and let out a contented sigh.

  The sore, achy feeling brought a smile to my face. He kissed the side of my face and tightened his arms around me. Things were good. So much better than I ever could have imagined. And as I drifted off to sleep, I wanted to know just how long this was supposed to last. At that moment, I didn't care. Everything felt so good, but that tiny little voice in the back of my head couldn't help but whisper.

  What would happen in the morning?

  15

  John - Now

  It wasn't until I was cursing the morning sun as it came streaming in through the open curtains that it all came flooding back to me. I glanced down at the sleeping Frankie resting across my chest.

  She was gorgeous. Disheveled and worn out. The fact that I played a large part in wearing her out made me smile. I wanted to stand on the top of the hotel, beating on my chest and shouting it from the rooftops. Frankie was mine.

  I brushed some of the hair off her face, and she murmured, burrowing deeper into my side. Without thinking, I traced my fingers along her back, dancing down her spine. She glanced up sleepily before closing her eyes, then tensing up and staring at me with her eyes wide.

  Did she regret it?

  "Morning, Frankie," I said, trying to keep things casual. Keep her calm.

  "Morning, John," she said, pushing off my chest as her cheeks pinked up. Her hand froze there as my heart hammered against my ribcage.

  "Interesting night, huh?"

  "You could say that," she said, wrapping the sheet around herself and sitting with her back pressed up against the headboard. I slid up the bed to sit beside her.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice tight. What happened last night was beyond anything I could have imagined, but I wanted to make sure she was okay with it.

  "I'm definitely okay. It...I had a great night, John," she said, running her hands over the cuffs on her wrists. They were similar to mine, but hers were delicate and intricate. Mine were leather and rope. Hers were meant to cover something she didn't want others to see. Mine were a display of what I liked.

  "Thank you," she said, peering over at me.

  "No thanks needed or wanted. I had a great time," I said, running my hand along her leg under the covers.

  "Are you sure, because—" I pressed my finger to her lips to stop her.

  “Don't even think about it. It was amazing. You're amazing, and don't go into analytical mode trying to pick things apart.” She blushed some more, the pink turning to red in her cheeks with the flush creeping down her chest.

  "Frankie—," I was cut off by the shrill ring of the bedside phone. Frankie rolled to the side, taking the sheet with her, reaching for it. She may have had the bright white sheet clutched against her chest, but that didn't mean I didn't get a peek at her delectable ass as she leaned over.

  "Okay, no problem. I don't need to. We'll be down in a little bit." She hung up the receiver and settled back in beside me. "It's almost time to check out. The front desk wanted to know if I wanted to extend my stay.” Her knee bounced up and down under the sheets. “I should be getting back to the city."

  "Right, of course," I said, sliding out of the bed, my feet thudding to the plush carpeted floor. I glanced around looking for my boxers.

  "Maybe--" I’d spotted them and picked them up when I realized she'd stopped talking. I looked over my shoulder to see Frankie's eyes zeroed in on my ass. Glad to see I wasn't the only one appreciating my partner from last night. She shook her head and slid out the other side of the bed, taking the sheet with her.

  "I'm going to take a shower," she said, backing up with the doorjamb right behind her. I reached out as a warning, but she bumped right into the doorframe, thumping her head. I winced vicariously, feeling the pain. She rubbed the spot and scurried into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. That could have gone better.

  I gathered my clothes off the floor in the living room, each piece helping me relive our previous night. That's when my morning wood transformed into something wholly other. I shoved everything into my bag and tried to get myself under control. When I stood up, the bedroom door was closed. Quiet as a mouse, she must have crept out and closed it.

  What the hell did that say? I threw on some clothes, and the bedroom door opened slowly. Frankie poked her head out and spotted me. She snapped up straight and strode out of the room, wheeling her bag behind her, looking everywhere but at me.

  "I called for a car to take me back to the city. I didn't know if you were hanging around here for a bit or leaving, but I didn't want you to be stuck with me." If she nibbled on her lower lip any more, there'd be nothing left.

  Stuck with her?

  "That's crazy. Call them back and cancel. I'm ready whenever you are. I can give you a ride back." I zipped up my suitcase and stood.

  "Really. It's fine. You'll have to drive all the way across down to my place." She picked at the handle of her suitcase. I stepped in front of her until she couldn't avoid my eyes any longer. That zap of energy from last night was still there. It hadn't just been the drinks or the dancing. It was something I knew we still had, but I hadn't let myself dwell on it for too long, since she pretty much hated me.

  "I'm taking you home, Frankie. Do you want breakfast here or on the road?"

  She didn't pull away or step back. I didn't see any anger in her eyes, but I didn't see anything else I could put my finger on. She licked her lips, and it took everything in me not to follow right behind her and have my breakfast treat right then.

  "We can eat on the road," she said, keeping her eyes on mine.

  They pulled my car around to the front of the hotel, and I loaded our bags in the back. We drove in companionable silence for a while, and I hated the fact that traffic was so light. A trip that took over three hours a couple nights ago would be over in less than forty-five minutes.

  I pulled up to the drive-through at a fast-food place. Frankie leaned over me to check out the menu. She still smelled like the lilac from the night before. Even after her shower. The late afternoon sun filtered through her hair as she concentrated on getting her food. It was a replay of the same scene from our way up, but it didn't feel awkward this time. She drummed her fingers on my thigh as she practically leaned out of the car to see the whole menu. I'd never been so happy she couldn't remember what was on the menu at a fast-food place that almost never changed.

  I wanted to run my fingers through her hair and pull her into my lap, showing her that this wasn't a weekend-wedding thing. This was going to be so much more.

  "I'll have the sausage, egg, and cheese croissant, French toast sticks, and an orange juice," she yelled to the static-filled speaker stuck in the center of the menu board.

  "I'll have the same," I said. Frankie buckled herself back into her seat. Her stomach growled from the passenger seat, and she wrapped her arms around it.

  "I guess I'm hungrier than I thought. Maybe I should get some hash browns too?"

  "Can we also get two orders of hash browns?"

  "Thanks," she said, tucking her hands under her legs. I pulled up to the drive through window and paid for our food, ignoring the twenty she'd taken out and waved under my nose, trying to give it to the woman at the window.

&n
bsp; "You picked me up and you're driving me back, the least you can do is let me pay for breakfast."

  "You can get it next time," I said, grabbing the bags and handing them over to her. She checked to make sure all the food was there, and we were back out on the road.

  She handed me my food while I drove, even popping a few of the bite-sized hash browns into my mouth. The entire time, I had no idea what the hell any of this meant. One minute she's chatty and happy and the next, staring out the window and distracted. So many questions raced through my head, but I was afraid to know the answers.

  Did she regret last night? Was there some shit I was supposed to do as the devirginator? Does she want to talk about this? Have it all out? Should we have done it at all? And what now?

  It wasn't until we crossed the bridge that I finally worked up the nerve. Not to talk about last night, but to try to figure out where things all started. Where everything changed between us and then imploded in our faces.

  "Frankie?"

  "Hmm," she turned to me in the seat, sliding her phone back into her bag. She'd only powered it up a little while ago, which was progress, I guessed.

  My mouth was so dry. I tried to form the words, but they kept getting stuck.

  "Spit it out," she said, laughing.

  "It's not something we ever got to talk about, but right after the dance...." Her face immediately slackened, and she faced straight forward. There was a shift in the car, like all the air had been sucked out.

  She turned back to me, but the easygoing look was replaced by one similar to her usual face whenever she was around me.

  "It was a long time ago. Why don't we just enjoy the rest of the weekend and leave that alone before we ruin the truce we've got going?"

  Was that all it was? A truce? Should I be ready to pick up arms against her come Monday? Because I really didn't have the heart or desire to do any of that ever again.

  "You're right. What else do you have planned for the rest of the weekend?" I asked, trying to get back to casual, safe territory.