Christmas in Coconut Creek (Dirty Delta, #1)(97)

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I got home and immediately went into recovery, which for me was a fuck ton of time lying on my back in bed, feeling sorry for myself. I needed help doing the most basic things, and even shit I could manage on my own became impossible because my mental health was in the gutters. I was convinced I’d never fly again, and honestly afraid to try. Still afraid to try.” Frankie’s voice tapered off. “I was a lot to deal with. Not my proudest moments, and Vanessa suffered for that.”

A chill crawled up my spine and bit into my skin. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Frankie’s eyes darted to mine, surprise creasing his forehead. “What?”

“She cheated on you.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” He shook his head.

“There’s nothing complicated about it,” I fired back. “You trusted someone with loving you. That doesn’t get a dismissal when things get too hard. You needed her and she fucking gave up on it.”

“I wasn’t there for her like she needed me to be. I was useless for a while.”

“You were fucking hurt! You don’t need to be everyone’s wall, Frankie. I know you now. I know you try so hard for everyone around you all the time and never for yourself. You’re worried about your mom and sister, you’re worried about your friends. You don’t want to leave here and chance someone needing you. But what about you? What happens when Frankie needs something, and everyone else has already gotten what they wanted out of you?”

My chest rose and fell harshly. I’d worked myself up into an embarrassing emotional outbreak and Frankie looked just as perplexed by it. He continued brushing his thumb across the back of my hand softly, tracing my tense body with his eyes. The silence around us roared.

“Are we having our first argument?” he finally replied with a touch of amusement.

I snorted, the thud of my heart relaxing again. “I’ll fucking fight you on this any day of the week.”

“Come here.” He pulled me carefully against him.

“Why?’ I pouted disobediently, giving him a lazy amount of resistance.

“Stubborn woman.” He pulled harder, until I had no choice but to fall into his lap, resting my thighs on either side of his hips. Despite the sincerity of the conversation, our centers connecting beneath the warm, bubbling water demanded its own attention. “Because it hurts when I can tell that you’re mad at me, but it also sadistically turns me on a little bit. So this fixes both of those things.”

His charm continued to emotionally castrate me. “How did you find out?” I asked.

Strong forearms tightened at my lower back and rocked me gently. “I’m pretty fucking sure she wanted me to. She left her emails open on the counter one morning and went out for brunch with some friends. I’m not the guy that’s gonna snoop but when I see names popping up in her inbox that I know—my chain of command.” His lips thinned into a straight line. “Something was off. Vanessa came home and I asked her about it, and she didn’t even deny it. She looked relieved, honestly, and the worst fucking part? I didn’t even ask her to leave. She just did.”

I leaned down and left a short peck on the tip of his nose, then whispered against his lips, “She didn’t deserve you.”

Frankie’s hands whispered like silk up my spine and to my shoulders, curling around the sides of my jaw and tucking the sweat-slicked curls of my stray hair behind my ears. “You make me believe that.”

“Good,” I answered, closing the short distance between our lips and claiming his mouth and tongue instantly.

We’d learned each other so well. He held me against him, asking for more of my attention without words, commanding our movements with the same amount of care as he did passion. I was swollen with his kiss, breathless and eager for as much of himself as he was willing to give.

Our tongues played, and my teeth grazed plush sensitive skin before biting down and an impatient grumble started in his chest. Frankie doubled down, licking a teasing line from my chin to my top lip, flicking his tongue suggestively.

My fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck. “You kiss me like this and I forget how to think straight.” The physical heat and the one between us mimicked some kind of head high.

“Stop thinking,” Frankie returned. “There’s nothing you should be thinking about right now but how I feel pressed against you.”

“Easy enough.” A hum turned into a squeak as I rocked my hips down against him hardening in his swimsuit. My insides clenched, so blatantly ready for his breach with no questions asked.

“Look at me,” Frankie groaned, shifting his pelvis and sliding against the nylon material of my bathing suit. “Look at what you do to me, O. It’s fucking pathetic isn’t it? I could have you taking my cock all day, and with just one bat of those eyes I’m ready for it again.”

“Should we be doing this out here?” I asked, but that last shred of my self-preservation floated toward the sky along with the billows of steam as his face came down between my breasts.

“You owe me something,” he mumbled into my skin, ignoring my question. His lips traveled through my cleavage to the thin fabric over my nipple, grazing the peak with his nose. Goosebumps flared to life all over my body and my back arched toward his touch. “You made a bet.”