We stumble through the doorway into a sun-filled room with a queen bed covered in white linens. There's a view of the ocean from here too, but I couldn't care less about the scenery.
All I can see is Frankie.
Her sweater hits the floor first, and then she's unzipping her jeans, hopping out of them with an urgency that matches my own. As I yank a couple of condoms out of my pocket and drop them on the nightstand, I'm already cataloging everything I want to do to her.
She stops and stares at me as I peel off my long-sleeved t-shirt. "You're so hot, wow.”
I have to laugh. "You see me almost every night."
"It's better in person." She takes a deep breath, her eyes roaming over my chest, my arms, my abs. "So much better."
I know the feeling. Seeing her through a screen doesn't compare to seeing her in three very real dimensions. I reach for her, helping her out of her tank top, getting her down to her bra and panties. Simple cotton, nothing fancy, but fuck if she isn't the sexiest thing I've ever seen.
And then she's pressing against me, skin to skin, and it's like coming home.
I lift her up and lay her on the bed, following with my body, covering her as we kiss again, longer this time. She sucks on my tongue and writhes beneath me, her legs falling open so I can settle between them.
This is better in person, too. So much better.
I kiss my way down her neck, trying to memorize every little reaction she has to my lips, my tongue, my fingers. The way she shivers when I lick the hollow at the base of her neck. The ripple of goosebumps when my mouth drags down onto her chest.
"I thought about this every night," I confess against her skin. "Exactly where to kiss you to make you shiver. How you taste. How you sound."
I cup her tits through her bra, thumbing her nipples until they peak against the fabric. Then I duck my head to suck her nipple through the soft cotton.
"Oh, Logan, I've missed you."
Music to my fucking ears. I pull harder, making her peak stiff and needy before shifting to the other side. The moan she gives me on that side is even hotter—higher, more desperate.
I yank the fabric aside and latch on bare, groaning at the sweet, earthy taste of her tits. It’s been a long fucking month without feeling her respond to me, without hearing these sounds reverberate around me.
After this summer, I'm never going more than a few days without her.
Blindly, I reach up to curl my hand around her cheek, just wanting to anchor myself to her. She twists her head and kisses my palm, then—fuck—licks my finger.
I jerk my head up, staring at her. My mouth falls open. My eyelids are heavy with want.
Breathlessly, she stares back, her eyes dark and dilated.
"You want something in your mouth, sweet girl?”
She nods.
I give her two fingers. "Show me what you want to do to my cock."
Her lips part and I slide them over her tongue. She pulls them into her mouth eagerly, sucking, and the wet heat sends a bolt of pleasure straight to my dick.
I groan, my cock throbbing as if her mouth was around my tip instead of my fingers. "That's so good, Frankie. You're so good to me."
She whimpers and sucks harder, her eyes flicking all over my face, nervous but needy, like she's not sure if this is okay but she can't help herself.
"Keep going," I encourage, my free hand sliding down to palm my aching cock through my jeans. "That's it. Get them nice and wet. I'm going to lick you all over, and I want you to keep sucking. Make my cock throb. Tease me."
She moans around my fingers.
"God, I want to be in your mouth," I confess. "Want to feel your tongue on my dick. But you need to come first, because I won't last long once I'm inside you. It's been too long. I'm too fucking worked up."
I bow my head and take a deep breath against her chest, trying to get myself under control. Then I roll her over, needing to focus on her, not my own desperate need.
