Christmas in Coconut Creek (Dirty Delta, #1)(80)
Frankie <3: You told your mother about me?
Busted.
Ophelia: She asked
Frankie <3: You’re lying, and for some reason that makes this hotter
I opened and closed a few drawers one-handed, nudging them back into place with my hip and moving onto the next set.
Frankie <3: I’m tipsy enough to tell you I need more and not be embarrassed about it
I smirked, sticking my hand in the dark confines of what looked like his underwear drawer. Half of it was empty save for a scrap of red fabric that would have been looked over entirely if not for a sweeping sense of familiarity.
“What…?”
I lifted my own lacy red thong out of the drawer, the one he’d pocketed the very first morning in Coconut Creek. Hair rose from my neck all the way down to my tailbone. I sent another photo with the fabric dangling from my fingertips.
Ophelia: Explain
Frankie <3: Figured if you’re my girl you need a drawer
My eyes shifted in and out of focus twice as I read his message, knees weakening to cheap rubber.
If you're my girl.
Ophelia: Taking this practice dating thing pretty seriously
Frankie <3: Don’t change the subject
His nonchalance was all the more attractive, because—he just didn’t realize, did he? That something as basic as making space in a dresser without being asked, without flaunting it, without needing the pat on the back for simply choosing to prioritize me meant more than I could word.
To feel desired. In more than a physical sense. Without denial.
Ophelia: Tell me what you want
Frankie <3: You
Frankie <3: Here
Frankie <3: Now
Ophelia: I was thinking more visually
Frankie <3: Something to hold me over until I ruin you tomorrow
My body stirred awake like a loud knock on the door in the middle of the night. Warmth blossomed down my spine, between my legs. A train of need passing through me fruitlessly without Frankie there to bring me some type of release.
I crawled to his headboard, easing my exposed body against the dark wood. Then, I unhooked my bra and tossed it to the floor.
Ophelia: Does it turn you on to know I’m naked in your bed?
I slid my thong I’d found in his drawer up my legs, adjusting the thin straps high on my hips.
Frankie <3: You know the answer to that. Show me
My fingers shook as I took another photo, vulnerable, yet grossly unabashed. I’d never felt so confident with a man, and it was because I knew Frankie was really looking at me. I was trusting him with all of these parts of myself, knowing he wouldn’t ever betray them.
Framed in yellow light, the silhouette of every last curve on display, a teasing smile, waves of my hair falling like a curtain around my face as I untied it. There was a woman that lived somewhere idly inside me staring back at the screen, like she knew a secret I was so close to uncovering.
That poised, elusive woman, no matter how much I wanted to take her back home with me, belonged to him. No one had ever had that version of me. She was his.
Ophelia: Finally wore them for you
I attached the photo.
Frankie <3: Fuck me, you’re so lucky I can’t drive right now
Ophelia: I wouldn’t call that luck
A minute passed as I watched him type with my thumb between my teeth.
Frankie <3: I’m going to give you everything you want when I get home, Ophelia. Bet on that
The sentiment was physical, but I pretended for a feeble moment that it was more. A man promising me the world, and me wanting nothing more than to take it from him.
The pressure of my teeth sinking into my lip mixed the perfect amount of pain with the stomach sinking feeling of arousal. I was coiled like a spring. Even the small grazing of my knuckles down my body gave me chills.
Ophelia: Distracted?
The soft murmurs of our friends from down the hallway prompted me to stand and reluctantly dress myself again, recentering without any relief. Frankie’s clock on the nightstand read half past nine, it was almost Christmas Eve, and I was another day closer to the end of a trip that I wished more than anything had a pause button.
My phone lit up again.
Frankie <3: You are the most distracting thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Good talk with your mom?” Nat drew a line of pearls with icing across a graham cracker and stuck it with so much force to the rooftop of her gingerbread house the entire foundation shifted.
Mateo was attempting to construct a walkway of mini candy canes with amusing focus, a furrowed brow and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. I plopped down in the dining room chair across from them and stared at my untouched cardboard platform.
“It’s been snowing there for a week,” I said. “That’s all you guys are missing here, white Christmas.”