I can see her reflection in the glass of the window I’m standing in front of. She’s like an apparition of an angel, hovering behind me. Beautiful, lovely, perfect. “I’m trusting you with this information.”
“I won’t tell anyone. Not Lucia or Nick or anyone.”
I turn to face her. “Now, will you trust me?”
“With what?” She whispers and she looks scared. Terrified actually.
“What is going on with you? What happened to you?”
“That’s too vague a question,” she gives me a small, sad, self-conscious smile. I’m blown away by how little ego this woman really has. Under all the Instagram selfies and boisterous posts, she’s just as self-doubting as the rest of us.
“Let’s start with why wasn’t Nick concerned when I told him I saw you limping?”
“Because he knows I have scoliosis and degenerative disc disease.” Frankie says it without hesitation. My brain scrambles to remember what the hell scoliosis is. She explains before I have to ask. “Scoliosis is a curved spine, essentially. I’ve had it since birth. It’s not going to kill me, but it makes life uncomfortable. Degenerative disc disease is being managed by cortisone shots and exercise. But all of this is why I never wear heels. It’s why I use the pools in hotels for exercise. It’s why I get so many massages and why I’m not a driver like Lucia. Like you.”
“You wanted to drive?”
“More than anything,” Frankie smiles, but it’s dark and sad. “But my doctors explained without a shadow of a doubt, early on, that would never happen. But Dad made sure I knew I could still love racing and be a part of it. He encouraged my interest in the other side of Formula One. He never let me feel like I was giving anything up.”
“Look at us with the verbal trust falls,” I say and give her a wink. I’m being lighthearted because everything feels heavy right now, and I don’t like it. I don’t do heavy, not with women. Not in this way. But right now, Frankie Castera is like an emotional weighted blanket I want to bury myself under.
Frankie smiles. It’s soft and sexy, and I try to tell myself the thickness of the mood in the room is just pure lust. Nothing more. BecausethatI can deal with. I step closer to her and dare to reach out and cup the side of her face. I am honestly not sure how she will react, but she doesn’t slap my hand away. She leans her delicate jaw and high cheekbone into my palm, almost nuzzling me like a kitten. She inches closer. We’re half a foot apart now and my free hand goes to the tie on her robe.
“This isn’t a good idea.”
“It’s not an idea,” I whisper back. “It’s an unavoidable reality. And it’s definitely going to be good.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Not easy, but worth it.” I lean in and capture her mouth with mine. She kisses me back, without the hesitation I was expecting.
My hand tugs her robe open as my tongue pushes her lips apart and her arms curl around my neck. She is gloriously and completely naked under the robe, which my hands find out as they begin to explore. I am not stopping now. I’m not going slow. She’s giving every sign that she’s ready for it all now.
I let her start to pull my pants open enough to slide her hand inside and she cups my hard cock. I push myself into her and kiss my way across her neck. “I want to fuck you tonight.”
“That’s another trust fall for me, Billy,” Frankie whispers her confession against my cheek.
“I know, love,” I whisper back and cup her bare, beautiful ass. “I’ll catch you. I’m your Aussie hero after all.”
I scoop her up, and she lets out a squeak of surprise and repositions her arms around my neck again as I walk her past the long forgotten sushi, into the bedroom. I toss her onto the bed, and she lands with another squeal. Her robe is open, barely clinging to her shoulders. Her hair is fanned out across her pillows, her plump lips parted in a smile. This moment is absolutely fucking perfect.
I pull my shirt up over my head and drop it at the foot of the bed, where I also toe out of my shoes and tug off my pants, but not before grabbing the condom I shoved in the pocket earlier, hoping against hope. I crawl onto the bed, kissing and licking my way up her smooth legs. Her skin smells like lavender and vanilla. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.
I reach the apex of her thighs and give her a long, slow lick. She arches her back and curls her fingers into my hair, so of course I do it again. And a third time just for luck. She’s wet and ready, and I am beyond impatient. I kiss her belly, and her breasts, swirling my tongue across her nipples, which are like rocks.
“Billy…” My name is caught between a moan and a demand.
I find her lips. “Tell me you want it.”
She kisses me back, hard, her tongue sweeping over mine. With her left hand she plucks the condom from my hand and tears the package open without breaking the kiss. Then she pushes me so I’m on my back, and I gladly enjoy the show while I watch her take the condom and roll it on my cock, but not before giving it a sweet caress and a couple of euphoric tugs first.
But when she moves to climb on top of me, I flip her. I do it as gently as possible because of what she told me about her back. I know less than squat about scoliosis, but I intend to research the hell out of it. Later. “I saidIwanted to fuckyou.”
I crawl over her and settle my hips between her long legs. Her hazel eyes are glassy like she’s been drinking, but I know it’s not alcohol. It’s desire. I must look the same way. This has been such a long time coming. Still, I refuse to rush. “You didn’t tell me you want it.”
“I want you Billy. I’ve always wanted you, even when it felt masochistic,” she confesses.
“Because I ghosted you?”
