“I’m over here,” she called from the kitchen. With every step I took the smoke seemed to get heavier and heavier.
“Jesus, babe, what happened?” I asked as I entered the small smoke-filled space.
“I was cooking?”
“Smoked brisket?” I couldn’t hide the frustration in my voice as I took her in quickly, making sure she wasn’t hurt. Wearing a kelly-green tee and what looked to be painted-on black yoga pants, she was fucking stunning.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” she argued, glaring angrily at me as she waved a magazine around, oblivious to the way I had just been ogling her.
“Babe, that’s not gonna help!” I shouted, unable to help it. Not with how loud the fire detector was going off. Thank God, it works. “Let’s open the windows.”
“Windows!” she shouted back, but her eyes brightened. “Why didn’t I think of that?” she chastised herself. “Okay, right, windows,” she said again, more to her herself than to me. So damn cute.
We moved around the living room, opening the windows. The fire alarm finally stopped blaring as the cool breeze from outside moved indoors. She headed toward the bedroom, and without thinking, I followed, moving past her and into her bathroom, opening the window there.
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Titan,” she said softly behind me.
“Frank,” I gritted, glancing at her, and I felt like a dick.
The already worried look on her face deepened. I wanted to take her into my arms and tell her it was alright. All that mattered was that she was okay. Focus, I reminded myself as I moved across the bathroom, reaching and opening the window by the bathtub. Fresh air breezed in, and I looked back and clenched my jaw. How the hell did I miss this?
Satin.
Lace.
Lace-covered satin.
Gorgeous itty-bitty panties of all colors and styles hung off the towel rack, and I couldn’t help but skim the edges of a pair of butterscotch-yellow lace boy shorts. I couldn’t stop imagining what she would look like in them, and only them.
She stepped in, obviously about to say something when her mouth shut and her pretty face turned crimson.
“You have great taste, Karina.” I smirked, unable to stop myself. I wasn’t the kind of man to shy away from shit.
“Thanks. Umm… The house is airing out, and the alarms finally turned off.”
“Okay.” I finally let go of the panties and rubbed the top of my head. “How about we go and see the damage,” I suggested, taking her hand in mine without asking, and she went with it.
It wasn’t too bad. The pan was trash, and the stove needed to be cleaned, but that was about it. Nothing a little elbow grease wouldn’t fix.
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Titan.”
“Frank,” I corrected again, taking in the way her shirt was molded to her front. Her pretty nipples were strained and tempting. “I’ll get someone to come in and clean this up.” I cleared the hoarseness away from my throat.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I can—”
“You can go get dressed, pack a bag, and come back with me,” I found myself ordering, and I couldn’t stop.
“With you?” she whispered, her eyes wide yet never wavering from mine.
“To the main house. I have a guest room,” I cleared up, not that I was planning on having her stay there. Something was rushing through me, and there was no stopping it.
“Oh. I don’t think that’s necessary—”
“I do. Come on, get a move on,” I pushed, not knowing what the hell I was doing but knowing I didn’t want to be away from her.
The last two weeks had been hell. If I thought the memory of her had haunted me the two days before, the last two weeks had been shit. Everywhere I turned, Karina Castillo was never far from my thoughts. I’d flown to Austin to meet an investor, and the first thing I had thought of when I landed was if she had ever been to Texas. If she’d like it.
I couldn’t seem to get her off my mind.
“Frank.” She said my name softly, and everything in my body heated up. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
She was probably right.
I was the older one of the two of us, and supposedly that made me the wiser one. But looking at her standing there, having been scared out of my mind only an instant ago, a clear reminder life was too fucking short, I was done holding back. I didn’t have the self-control.
Closing the space between us, I went to her, and without a word, I put my hands on her waist, lifting her up, her legs indistinctively wrapping around my waist. All without a fight from her.
“Frank?”
“Shh…” I grunted, walking to the bedroom, setting her down, letting the front of her body skim the front of mine. The flare in her eyes told me she didn’t miss the way she had me feeling. “You have five minutes to pack a bag.”
“Frank—”
“Up to you where you wanna stay in my house,” I threw in, and her head bopped back up to look at me.
“Up to me?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet. Her breathing picked up, and I swallowed hard, trying to tear my eyes away from the way her chest rose and dropped.
“Guest room is open, Karina.
“Okay.” The disappointment was clear in her eyes. I took it as a win.
“But so is my bed,” I added, and her eyes heated.
Karina was a fucking knockout.
She’d taken my breath away from the moment my eyes had landed on her at the Tea and Crumpet. I didn’t do shit like I had that day. I had no problem approaching a woman, but when I’d seen her, it was something else that had driven me to move in, side-stepping the hipster kid behind her and moving into his place. Something I wasn’t sure I could describe as anything other than recognition. I just wasn’t ready to admit what I had recognized in her.
But her eyes were what drew me in. Her eyes were what haunted me.
She expressed everything through her eyes, and right now, they were hot. They turned up a notch, and my hands moved to hold her hips. “I know what I said about boundaries. And I heard you on discretion.” She breathed in, and my hand tightened on her hip, her body moving even further into me.
“But?”
“But fuck me, I don’t want to fight what I’m feeling.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then you stay in the guest room, and I jerk my dick to the memory of you for the last time,” I confessed, and her eyes went liquid.
“Have you?” her voice rasped. Her hands moved up from my waist, resting over my sternum.
“Every fucking night,” I growled. The tentative way she was touching me deepened, letting it move to familiar as she moved upward to my shoulders.
“That’s hot,” she breathed.
“Karina,” I warned. She was poking a bear. A bear on edge who had been hibernating for the longest two weeks and starving for a taste, one only she could sate. “You touch that pretty pussy at night under the sheets, Karina?” She licked her lips and swallowed hard.
“How do you know I want it, too?” she asked, ignoring my dirty question.
“You telling me you don’t?” I bit. “You move on, baby girl?” I asked, only to goad her into giving in, but the idea of any other idiot touching her made me see red.
“No,” she whispered, tamping the jealousy down, her eyes on my lips. “I want you, too,” she whispered, and all my fucking control went through the very windows I’d helped open.
Karina
I was crazy.
I was the world’s worst friend.
I should have stepped away and taken him up on his guest room and never spoken about what we’d shared that afternoon.
But I couldn’t.
The idea of him getting off, thinking about me as he stroked his perfect cock, made me wetter than I could have possibly imagined. I was shocked my knees hadn’t buckled below me.
Admitting I wanted him only fueled the fire, and when he took me completely in his arms, his mouth fused with mine.
A kiss so fucking glorious I just held on. Gave in. My heart hammered in my chest. Lust and desire for more flowed through my veins. I opened my mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. Giving him more. Giving him everything I possibly could in that moment.
And all we were doing was kissing.
I should have been terrified of the feelings and sensations he brought to life. He’d done it during our afternoon together. He’d brought out a part of me I hadn’t known existed. A piece of me that had been hidden. And the last two weeks, trying to ignore him, hadn’t worked.
We clung to one another like the end of the world depended on it.
He broke the kiss, pulling away, creating a small space between our lips. Both of us were breathing heavily, sharing the same air. I looked up at him. Our eyes locked. I let my tongue peek out and lick his lower lip. I felt it before I heard a growl escape.
“No going back now, baby. You know that, right?”
“Frank,” I whispered, my hands at the back of his head touching his satiny skin.
“Uh uh. Tell me you understand.”
“But what about—” He didn’t let me say it. He leaned his forehead against mine.
“Two weeks,” he said calmly, his voice like silk against gravel. “Two weeks. Anyone else, honestly, as much of a douchebag as it’s going to make me sound, I wouldn’t have remembered your name.” I flinched, but he didn’t let go of me.
“I wouldn’t have remembered if you were a blonde or brunette. I wouldn’t have remembered what you were wearing or the color of the panties I took off your body. Nothing. At least not anything other than the fact I got off.”
He was right. He did sound like an ass.
He was charismatic and had natural swagger. I could see this being true. I knew firsthand he didn’t have to try too hard to get under my skirt. I didn’t want to imagine him as a player. The idea of him touching anyone else made me sick to my stomach, but I wasn’t naïve. I knew he had what it took to be that kind of man.
He was confident. Handsome. Successful. He could have the pick of the litter and then some.
“But it was you. It is you,” he interrupted my thoughts.
“I’m not sure—”
“I close my eyes, and you’re there.” He ran his nose along mine. “I wake up reaching for you. I go to sleep thinking about you. About the way your taste should be on my tongue at the end of every fucking day.” I shivered as his face moved, his lips touching my temple. “I can’t think straight. You cast some kind of spell, because everything, big and small, makes me think about you.” His lips brushed against my ear. “Makes me wonder what you would have to say. Makes me yearn for the sound of your voice,” he spoke into the crook of my neck.
A knot formed in the back of my throat.
What he was saying was insane. We had only been together a handful of hours. But as crazy as it sounded, I understood him. I had been in the same spot. Wondering where he was when the lights of the main house never turned on. Wondering where he was off to when I’d caught a glance of him being picked up by a town car with luggage in hand. Wondering who he was spending his time with.
“One time wasn’t enough,” he added just as I was about to talk, and the words clung around me. One time. He wanted more. But how much more? Jump first, think later, a little voice whispered, and I met his gaze head on.
“Nowhere close to enough,” I whispered, because at the end of the day it was true. That afternoon wasn’t enough. My hand in his, I pulled him toward the bed. He didn’t miss a beat.
As he sat on the edge of my bed, I couldn’t help but like how he looked there. The soft yellow comforter the background, his strong body sitting straight, the white dress shirt with the top two buttons at his neck undone, a peek of the dark hair beneath peering through, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. What was it about his arms that drove me crazy? The sight of them made me want to do anything that would let me rub up against him, to get the feel of his hands on me. My queen-sized bed looked smaller somehow as he sat there.
“Take everything off,” he ordered, leaning back, as I took a step back, my hands already at the hem of my shirt. “Let me look at you.”
He rested on his elbows. Anyone taking a glimpse would think he was the definition of patience. But his eyes told a different story. They were hungry. Pulling the green tee up and over my head, I tossed it to the ground beside me, and without looking away from his famished stare, I pulled the straps down my shoulders before undoing the front clasp of my sheer black bra, letting it fall down next to my tee.
“Slower,” he commanded in a low tone I felt right at my core. I clenched my thighs together.
Slowly shimmying out of my yoga pants, taking my panties down along with it, I made it a point not to look away from him. My heart was racing, my sex wet and empty. The only thing I could think about was him. How he could make it all better. I looked away at the thought. I wasn’t the type to rely on anyone. Especially not a guy. Or man, as this case may be. The last of my clothes were discarded. My heart raced, and my thoughts matched the vulnerability I showcased.
I stood completely nude in front of a man who could destroy me.
He could ruin the friendship I had forged through time, and for what? To get off? Didn’t I have a drawer of buzzing buddies that could do that?
I didn’t know him. Not really. Had only spent those stolen hours with him, where I had given in to an overwhelming attraction. Liar, a small voice of reason whispered. You know him. Maybe I did. The conversations we’d shared in the coffee shop had let me be bold that day. I’d been attracted to him not just on a physical level.
“Look at me,” he requested, and something about the tone in his voice snapped me out of the train wreck of my thoughts, my gaze lifting to meet his. “Where did you go right now?”
“I…” before I could say anything, he unbuttoned his dress shirt, whipping it off and letting it fall to the ground on the side of the bed. The sight of him made me speechless. He was built. Not soft like a man with his career would be. It was obvious he took care of his body but still enjoyed life.
“Love the way you look at me, baby.” His words tore my eyes off his impressive chest and shoulders.
“Frank,” I breathed. I didn’t know why. His name fell softly from my lips without any other words to be said.
“Closer, sexy girl.” Just like that, I was charmed, his puppet to play, closing the small space between us. His hands moved immediately to the back of my thighs, pulling me between his legs. “So fucking sexy,” he growled, and I licked my lips. His fingers grazed the back of my knees, and even though I was naked as the day I was born, in broad daylight, I didn’t let myself shy away from what was happening.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his hands cupping my ass.
“Yes,” I answered honestly in a timid tone.
“Straddle me. Put your hair in your hands, like you’re going to put your hair up in a ponytail.” I did as he said, pulling my hair together and to the crown of my head. “Just like that. Good girl.” I felt his approval in my sex. “Keep them there.” I swallowed hard.
As I straddled him, sitting as straight as I could, and with my hands in my hair, my breasts were arched out and right by his mouth. As good as that was, there was the hardness below me, perfectly aligned with where I needed him, and I wished he had taken his pants off.
“Soon.” Crap, did I say that out loud? I didn’t ask. I couldn’t. Not when his head dipped forward, his nose grazing my collarbone, whisper soft, but my head fell back as I offered him more access to my body.
“So fucking pretty.” He looked back at my face, his eyes roaming lower. Every inch of flesh he looked at felt like it came alive under his stare. “Better than I remembered. Fuck, Karina. No bullshit, you gotta know, the way I remembered you, I could have sworn I thought I had made you up.”
“Frank,” I moaned. The tips of his fingers hardly skimmed the line of
my torso, sending chills up and down my spine, covering my skin with goose bumps.
“Yes, baby?”
“Touch me,” I begged softly.
My skin was on fire, dying to have his hands on me.
His hands tightened on my torso. Rubbing up and down. “So soft,” he spoke out loud with such awe in his voice I melted into him, my hands dropping slightly, but he caught it. “Keep them up for me.”
“I want to touch you,” I whined but didn’t move.
“So damn sweet.” His lips whispered the top of my breast, his breathing making me shiver. He moved to the other. “You touch me, and I’ll lose my control, baby,” he calmly answered. I didn’t know why, but the steady tone of his voice made me needier. Like I wanted to push his buttons and have the beast he hid beneath his calm demeanor unleashed.
“And that’s bad?” I pouted, grinding down a little harder, hoping to tempt him to let me put my hands down and touch him.
“Yes,” he admitted as his tongue laved the underside of my erect nipple. A guttural sound escaped from inside of me. “You touch me, I won’t be able to take my time with you,” he rasped.
“We could take our time next time,” I suggested. My hips rolled against his length, but it was his deep chuckle that made my pussy throb.
“Be my good girl,” he rasped deeply. “Stay like this. Let me explore.” I opened my mouth to say anything that would get him to give me what I wanted, but I couldn’t. The words lodged in the middle of my throat when my brain processed his mouth taking my entire nipple in his mouth. He wasn’t just licking or suckling; his mouth was doing something else entirely. My head fell back as I was grinding on him. One of his hands held the other breast as the other squeezed my ass cheek, holding me in place.
“My dirty girl,” he grunted. “So fucking perfect.” He sucked my nipple harder. Pain and pleasure worked together the way they did, making me bite my lip as sounds I’d never made escaped. He whispered dirty words against my skin, his deep voice with his sexy words like a shot of tequila shooting through my veins.
He kissed.
He licked.
He touched.
He bit.
And he did it masterfully, with obvious purpose. To drive me out of my freaking mind.
Quite Frankly: Dilf Mania (Beech Grove Book 5) Page 4