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Franco (Bright Side Book 3) by Kim Holden (6)

Friday, January 26

(Franco)


We went surfing early this morning at Trestles. Rented boards and wetsuits, because we all needed to unwind and get in the water. Surfing is critical to wellbeing for all of us, being away from it for too long manifests itself in negative ways. Riding, being one with the ocean, appreciating nature, is religion for me. The guys are much the same. It was an hour well spent. Therapy.

And besides the restorative, zen-like aspects, a sea lion popped up in the water two feet from Gus and he screamed like a terrified little girl. It was priceless. A spectacle that everyone within thirty feet of us in the water thoroughly enjoyed. Gus was heckled by friends and strangers alike, with absolutely no mercy. It's a good thing he's such a good sport.

Our last day as a band in the studio was gold after that.

The perfect ending. We're all happy. You know it's gone well if we're all happy. It's not that we're tough to please, we just have high standards. So, when we've reached a certain level of agreement, it's a sign that the planets have aligned, and the rock gods have blessed the project.

We picked up some tacos and a case of beer on the way back to our temporary home. A quiet celebration ensued on the balcony of the apartment. Redemption, in so many ways, is a reality.

Gus went to bed early because he has to be back in the studio to record a final guitar track early in the morning. He held off on it so his girlfriend and her cousin could be there with him.

Jamie and Robbie got in some Xbox time. Which is vital to their existence.

And me? I walked over to see Gemma.

She asked me to spend the night again.

I couldn't say no.

We're getting attached. I love it because I haven't felt this way about a woman in a very long time, if ever. And that scares me because deep down I know it's deceptive optimism. We will end. In a matter of hours when I leave in the morning, most likely. I'm trying not to think about it but I know it's true. Until then, I'm an ostrich sticking my head in the sand and choosing to blow off imminent reality. I've never done that before and it's a daily effort to ignore my nagging, doomsday subconscious.

When she flips off her bedroom light, I tell the realist in me to back the fuck off and I strip down to my boxer briefs and crawl into her bed.

She meets me under the sheets. And she's all skin. Every inch of her is bare. Guess the Biebs won't be spending quality time with us tonight.

It's instantaneous. I'm hard. The kind of hard that begs, kicking and screaming for contact and slow, gratifying, explosive relief.

"Franco?" she whispers timidly.

"Yeah, Gem?"

"Thank you for making my last days in L.A. memorable."

"I know realistically we'll probably never see each other again after tomorrow, Gem, but I just want you to know that it has been a pleasure spending time with you this week. I hope every last one of your dreams comes true. Because you deserve it." 

"I wish the same for you. And I want you to know that I don't get naked for just anyone. It's been almost two years. Normally, I wouldn't be so bold," she confesses sweetly.

"I'm pretty fucking hot, I know that's damn hard to resist," I tease.

"God, I'm glad the lights are off. It's embarrassing how hot my cheeks are." 

"Are you blushing?" I ask. I wish I could see it.

"A bit. Promise it won't hinder my enthusiasm though."

Holy shit, as if I wasn't already excited by this prospect. "One more thing." We're both lying on our sides facing each other. My hand seeks out her hip and rests there because I can't help touching her. My thumb brushing back and forth, is a barometer of the desire that's building.

She scoots forward until her breasts are pressed against my chest. "What's that, naughty American boy?"

I inch forward to meet her, until the rest of me is touching the rest of her. Everything housed inside my underwear is viciously berating me, Why didn't you shed the chonies, you moron! "I would fucking love to wholeheartedly earn that title tonight." I roll my hips into her. 

A kiss butterflies playfully across my lips. "And because I'm a team player, I would love to help you in any way I can." She drapes her leg over mine and the grinding becomes a two-player game. The length of me rubbing against her sweet spot.

My hand is exploring, the small of her back, and then to the curve of her ass. "Damn, that's generous of you."

Her lips find my neck. Soft kisses alternate between the trace of her tongue and gentle nips of her teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

Fingers splayed, I give her backside a satisfying squeeze that makes us both sigh. "You can do anything you want, Gem. Anything."

"I've never known a man that lights me up quite like you do. My lady parts are in a fucking riot at the minute." When she pulls back, I want to vocalize that my man parts are likewise in the middle of a goddamn revolution...but she strips my underwear off and her hand wraps me in a carnal cuddle. And the stroking that ensues is the thing fantasies are made of.

"Fuck." It's a low, guttural, release of pure pleasure. "We should definitely address the riot and make sure its demands are heard and fully acted on." Rolling her to her back, I climb on top.

My mouth descends on hers. And hell yes, we're a fucking team. This kiss is different. Kissing in the nude always is. A naked body stirs everything into a goddamn frenzy. Need, anticipation, and raging desire make it next level intense.

But this?

Gemma and I?

We're nuclear.

One hand snakes under her head and winds up in her hair, the other greedily palms her breast. Lips are still engaged in the fray. The mouth is a magnificent tool to communicate intimacy—kissing, licking, sucking, nipping—it's screaming, I'm so fucking into you, without saying a word.

And it's at this moment that I wish I had more than five senses to relate to her with. I want more of her. I can't get enough.

I'm settled in between her legs, slowly creating friction. We've both hit the fucking roof, arousal seems an amateur term for what's driving us.

"Franco," she pants, "I'm going to lose my fucking mind." She's pleading for more.

Even though the last thing I want to do is leave this bed, I'm with her on the losing my fucking mind if fucking doesn't commence soon thing. I retrieve a condom from the pocket of my shorts on the floor, tear it open, and roll it on.

Climbing back on at the foot of the bed, I take an ankle in each hand and spread them wide. Fingertips tease the soles of her feet before trailing up her shins. Over her knees. To her thighs. 

She quivers. 

"Feel good?" I ask.

Approval is in the form of a moan, "Mmm hmm."

"What about this?" I trace the line of her upper thigh.

"Even better."

"And this?" Teeth take to the flesh of her inner thigh. Enough pressure to apply stinging pressure, before soothing it with my tongue, and a kiss.

"God, yes." Breaths grow shallow.

"And then there's this..." My thumb circles, replaced by my tongue. Parting her, I ease up and down once to tease her. Jesus, she tastes good.

Words are lost in the hum she emits and it's so damn sexy.

"I'm going to play with your body all night if you keep making sounds like that." That's me groveling for more.

She repeats the hum and it's like a flame introduced to gasoline.

I scale her body until our mouths connect. Kissing is clashing. It's needy and aggressive. Any hint of sweetness in this woman has been consumed by vixen. And I fucking love it.

Her nails are raking my back.

I'm pushing the boundaries of touch, spurred on by lust. Tweaking and rolling her pebbled nipple with one hand. The other slid under her with a firm grip on her ass cheek.

Burying my face in the crook of her neck, I whisper, "I'm going to make sure you never forget me. Are you ready for the best fuck of your life?"

"So ready," she whispers back.

There's no easing in. No gentle introduction. I plunge hard and deep.

"Oh God," she gasps.

"You good?" I question.

"Excellent," she sighs.

She bends her knees to gain leverage and her hips meet my every thrust.

Kissing is impossible. Sweat slicks our skin. Complimentary, but very dirty words are exchanged. Goddamn this woman speaks my language.

We change positions when she forces me to sit up and climbs onto my lap facing me. The moonlight slicing between the curtains highlights her, and the view when she proceeds to ride the hell out of me is spectacular.

She's clenching around me, tighter and tighter. It's rapture building.

And when I prompt her to let it all loose, that's all it takes.

She goes up in flames. "That's it. God, that's it... Yes... Yes."

It's all the spark I need. It consumes me whole in a blinding expulsion of unadulterated pleasure. "Holy fuck."

The pause to catch our breath and collect our wits post mega-orgasm is exaggerated. It takes a minute to come back to the present when your mind and body have just been blissfully razed and ruined in the name of lust.

I'm still inside her and she's making no attempt to leave my lap. "Franco?"

"Yeah, Gem?"

"I'm crowning you king."

I raise my eyebrows. "Royalty, huh?"

She nods her head appreciatively and her devilish smile plays at her lips. "Fucking royalty. Literally."

This woman slays me.

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