Luca
The soft scent of vanilla and jasmine dances along her skin, tickling my nostrils. The sweet perfume makes me want to lean down and inhale, draw the sweet nectar of her skin deeper into my senses. She smells like something forbidden, something illicit. Which only makes me crave her more.
“I just feel it’s right you make a choice. Put these fools outta their misery,” Toby pushes, a slight slur tainting his words.
I pull myself from thoughts of the way Frankie smells, the addictive scent of her skin and look to Toby, his focus on Will.
Our usual crew stands around a single table, too many drinks having been consumed, the wedding reception in full swing. The mood is light, good-humored, different conversations echoing against one another.
Will’s hand drags delicately over his chin, a soft bark of laughter dancing around the table. “Fuck off, not happening. I refuse to buy into your insecurities.”
The affable taunt makes my body shake in quiet laughter and Will’s blue eyes wink over at me in obvious enjoyment.
Ben’s dads are good people. The connection they have with his friends are familial, the love shared evident and infectious. I like it. It’s a solid family unit.
“Hippy boy, Will’s a married man. Stop flirting.” Archer’s laidback jibe forces a makeshift scowl to form on Toby’s face as he pulls Willow closer into his body.
“You would say that, it’s clear that Adam would choose you. Will,” he whines, “tell me I’m the prettiest.”
Loud laughter moves around the table, Toby’s bottom lip pushing out in an exaggerated pout.
“Sorry, Tobias,” Will sighs regrettably. “No can do. Francesca here’s won the lottery. Her date is by far the prettiest,” he gestures toward me and I laugh in spite of myself.
“The Viking?” Toby slams his beer down in mock outrage as Will saunters away with a wave. “Ridiculous. He’s hideous,” he yells after his retreating form.
“Totally hideous,” Willow bats her eyelashes at me, inflating a dreamy sigh. She follows it up with a playful wink and I return it, my tongue dragging along my teeth in flirtation.
I’m boozed. Well and truly. My mind hazy and eyes a little unfocused. I feel relaxed and I’m enjoying the fuck outta myself. Who would’a thought? Me enjoying myself at a wedding. I usually despise the monotony and clichés of the tradition. This crew is starting to show me the fun in the day, the fun in the moment and I curse their loved-up ways, working to thaw my black and tainted heart.
“Trust me, China,” Toby scoffs, kissing her temple. “He is of no interest to you. He plans on buying his future missus a vacuum cleaner for Valentine’s Day.”
A collective hiss falls through the women present and I pause, drink held at my lips. “What?”
“Oh! Sweet Jesus.” Willow lifts her hands in surrender. “This,” her hand drags along the line of my body, looking ready to shed tears, “is ruined. Baby, no.”
My chuckle is easy. Placing my beer down and crossing my hands over my chest, I level Willow with my unimpressed gaze. “All right, Willz. Have at it, what did our favorite hippy buy you?”
Straightening her shoulders, she meets my challenge head on. “He didn’t buy me anything.”
Lifting a single eyebrow, I wait for her to continue, which she does, triumphantly. “He painted me a picture of his heart.”
His arms wrap around her waist, chin tucking itself against her shoulder, lips meeting her neck.
“Literally?” I clarify, a palm coming to rest on my chest, directly over my heart.
“Painted Willow and Lily,” he answers and moving to her neck, she brings him into focus, smiling tenderly before kissing his lips.
I watch them for a brief moment, a smile involuntarily touching my lips. “Noted. Draw future wife stick creatures of her and I.”
“You could just steal her panties,” Frankie retorts on a snort, sipping her champagne innocently and my eyes slide to her.
“That’s more for me than her.” Our gaze anchors and I arch an eyebrow in defiance.
“Personally,” Aubrey breaks our trance, “I find the whole concept of keeping ones used panties quite disturbing.”
“Amen, sister,” Annabelle salutes, lifting her full glass of champagne to tap Aubrey’s empty one.
Bennett and Darci move away from the unsavory conversation, Bennett leading her to the dance floor in a drunken twirl. She giggles, her cheeks dusted pink in happiness and I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of happiness for them.
Frankie’s eyes remain glued to them the entire time they dance. A contented glimmer in her eyes as she finishes her drink.
“Frank, let’s dance.” Archer moves his arm from Annabelle’s waist, his eyes following hers.
She smiles wide, two dimples pressing into her cheeks and my fists clench unhappily, an unwelcome pierce of jealousy stabbing inside of me.
“I’d love to.” Her empty glass slides onto the table as the asshole takes her hand, leading her away from the table. I could pretend it was innocent, that he was doing it for Frankie’s benefit, but the side eye he slides my way, an arrogant smirk twisting at his lips, tells me differently.
Before I can even reciprocate, and make him beat his fuckin’ man chest in the middle of the wedding, Annabelle grabs Jake’s hand, her hips swaying in time with the music as she leads the way.
Fuck.
I could ask one of the others girls to dance, but my gaze is locked on Frankie. Or more so on Archer’s hand, currently pressed into her lower back as they sway, her laughter loud, his lips uncomfortably close to her ear as he jokes about God knows fucking what.
One song morphs into another and they’re still pressed together, my knuckles cracking with every few seconds that passes.
Tipping my head back, I slam the contents of my beer, pushing the glass onto the table without care. Without letting myself second-guess, I move through the dance floor, eyes honed in on the beauty in the green dress.
Archer sees me coming, stepping away on a pleased as fuck smile as I move into his space without muttering a single word. He gets what I’m saying clear enough, my eyes cutting through his in dismissive warning. I don’t know what the asshole is playing at. What he plans to achieve. All I know for certain is that the guy’s a complete prick. I see the way Frankie looks at him. The longing in her face. The admiration, the flirtation dancing in her eyes. Maybe she’s not into him specifically, but she wants a guy like him.
Immovable. Possessive. Dominant. A man with strong family values that dictate his every thought and action. She wants a soldier, a fighter, someone who will love her obsessively. It pisses me off that she sees these qualities in the guy who seems hell-bent on pushing me out of his family clique.
Frankie’s eyes widen slightly as I move in to pull her body against mine. The selfish cut of my stare bores into her midnight eyes, daring her to reject me, to try and push me away. My jaw locked tight, my hand slides down her back feeling the sway of her lower back, the pout in her spine leading to her delicious peached-shaped ass. An ass I’ve felt in my palms. An ass I’ve squeezed the soft, naked flesh of as I pounded into her willing body; as she begged for me to go harder, deeper before coming in a million pieces over my eager dick.
Her arms tentatively hook around my shoulders, her chest pushing against mine and I close my eyes in relief.
The song changes, a pulsating beat running along the melody and our bodies move in sync. Hips kissed together they roll in time with the thick bass echoing around us and I’m taken back to the first time I saw her. The urgent and fevered attraction that caught us both off guard. That spiraled into a quick, dirty and satisfying-as-all-hell fuck in the back corner of a seedy bar.
Bottom lip skating roughly against her teeth, the fire in her eyes burns like gasoline hypnotizing me. Fuck. How is it possible to want someone so fucking bad?
Our lips sit a breath apart, not quite touching, but not exactly apart and I fight heavily against my need to breach that edge of space. God, to taste her again, to let her wicked lips caress mine, to feel the soft eagerness of her tongue brush against mine. My hand fists at her back, sliding to her hip and gripping her hard. I turn her body without instruction, my possessive grasp on her body moving her at will. She lets me move her without resistance and I growl, deep in my throat, imagining the things I could do to her body.
Back against my chest, my heart beats heavily at her shoulder blade, letting her feel the effect she has on me, pissing me off big time. I don’t need Francesca Walker knowing how much she tears me up inside. But I can’t control it, and right now, at this minute, a little drunk and a whole lot turned on, I can’t bring myself to pull away from her intoxicating aura.
My cock lengthens in my pants, feeling her pert ass grind into my crotch, driving me wild with my need to feel inside of her. My left hand moves up to her thick mane of hair. Brushing it off her neck gently, I wrap it along my knuckles, pulling hard to force her neck to arch. She whimpers at the contradiction in my touch, the soft caress echoed with the bite of my need to remain in control. The quiet desperation in the sound sends me wild, my nose skating along the tempting line of her neck.
Left hand still bound in her hair, my right hand caresses the naked skin of her thigh that peeks from the evil split in her dress. My touch is feather light, fingertips barely touching the smooth skin in restrained need. Pushing her knee outwards, the split grows, gifting me greater access to the delicate skin and I groan against her neck.
She’s naked under this dress. Completely fucking bare. All I need to do was trace my fingertips up a little farther and I’d feel her. I’d brush against the damp heat of the one place I want into more than I want my next fuckin’ breath. I’d slide my fingers against the swollen lips of her cunt, feeling how much I can turn her on by only the tease of my touch.
Inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, my eyes open, teeth biting in her neck in tortured desire. My stare flickers across the room, to our friends, all dumbfounded and focused in on Frankie and I, all but fucking on the dance floor.
I pull away from her like she’s fire. A blazing fuckin’ inferno that’s just set me alight. My palm rubbing roughly against my jaw in disbelief, my breathing racks heavily through my body. Glancing to me, then to our friends, Frankie swallows down her embarrassment, a deep shade of red crawling up her neck.
“Fuck are you doin’ to me, Frankie? Evil pull of easy pussy is leading me by my dick, and I don’t fuckin’ like it.”
She recoils, the force of my words compelling her feet backward. Pain slices across the beauty of her features, working to suffocate me in regret and I’m caught between my need to comfort her, to apologize and my need to get as far as fuck away from her as I can.
She makes the decision for me, turning on her heel without a word and moving from the room with a quiet dignity.
Fuck. I’m an asshole. I rub my palms over my face and without letting myself question my mental state for the umpteenth time tonight, I move after her without delay.
“FRANKIE! Wait.”
She moves faster, the tail of her dress flying behind her in pissed off elegance. Classy as all hell and I just called her easy. Would’ve done the same damage calling her a whore. I guess in a way I did.
Chasing her through the door, I follow her down a darkened corridor. “Frankie. Babe. I’m sorry. That was outta line.”
She whirls on me, the telltale sign of tears running tracks along her cheeks, filling her eyes as quickly as they fall.
“Fuck you,” she spits. “Who do you… How dare… Fuck. You.” Her hand flies at my chest, pushing me back.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. You’re confusing the fuck outta me, Crazy Girl. I can’t find any sense when you’re around.” My hands brace the back of my head, my neck tipping backward on a frustrated growl.
“Jesus, Luca. Sense? You think you’re alone in that. I get so fucking lost in you, Luke. I don’t know how to act. Are we friends? I don’t know. I don’t think so, I’d like to be, but you avoid me most of the time.”
Stepping closer, I drag a thumb along the socket of her eye, drying the tear that falls from her lashes. “Don’t know how to be your friend, Francesca.”
She swallows heavily, and the step I take forward, she takes back. “Being your friend scares me,” I whisper as her back hits the wall.
“You’re kinda doing it wrong anyway.”
My eyebrows lift in intrigue, my cock once again ruling my overzealous reaction to this girl. “Do tell.”
“Well,” she starts, her thigh pushing outward to let my hips to fall heavily against her apex. “Friends don’t steal other friend’s panties.”
I work to suppress the grin threatening at my lips. “Hmmm,” I nod in thought. “God. What kind of friend would steal your panties. Sounds like a creep.”
My lips dance over hers, the soft cushion of skin catching on mine, pulling her bottom lip down. “Total creeper,” she breathes, and I seal my mouth over hers, letting my tongue dive into her mouth.
She groans. Boldly. The sound rough and heavy in the darkened hall. Dropping against her completely, I lift her leg, wrapping it around my waist to let the straining need of my cock hit the heat I’ve been craving since the bar. Even with the barrier of my pants, I’m in fucking heaven and I grind shamelessly against her.
“Jesus, Crazy Girl. What are we doin’?” I speak against her lips, letting my fingers trail along the back of her thigh.
She takes a breath to answer, the sound skipping in her throat as my fingers reach their destination.
“Dripping,” I snarl, my tongue dipping into her mouth the same time I slide two fingers inside her body.
A silent scream is swallowed by my kiss and I let my fingers dance inside her body. Massaging the sweet little spot, dragging in and out and making her gasp for more, beg for me to go deeper.
“Last time you refused me names,” I pant into her mouth. “This time when you come, you say my name. You thank me for making you come so hard.”
She whimpers. Her pussy convulses. I grind my granite-like cock against her, wishing like anything I was balls deep but not ready to let go of the feel of her soaking my hand. Of her pussy walls contracting heavily against my thick fingers.
“I fucking give up.” We both startle at the sound of Archer’s voice.
On instinct, my body pushes against Frankie’s, hiding any view he may have of her. Not that I need to, he gives us his back immediately, hands braced at the back of his head. “Bleach for my fuckin’ eyeballs. Valentine’s Day and everyone fucks like rabbits.”
Clearing his throat, he stops his exit. “Frank. Babe. Was just checkin’ you were okay. Reckon you’re more than, so I’m out.”
Our eyes watch his exit and as soon as he disappears from my line of sight, my fingers begin their assault once again.
“Luca. God. Stop…. Everyone knows, ah,” she arches into my touch.
“You want me to stop?” I tease, my voice soaking with a drawl of disbelief, my fingers slowly dragging from her body.
Her small palm flies to my arm, wrapping tightly around my bicep to keep me in place and I smile in triumph. She groans at that. “Fuck. You’re way too pretty for your own good, Thor.”
Thrusting my fingers deeper, I curl them up to tickle her G-spot, my hips rolling against her clit. “Luca,” I mouth against her ear. “Not Thor, Luca.”
She comes undone at the quiet bite in my demand, my lips tickling her earlobe.
“Luca,” she follows my instruction, my name a whispered plea from her lips, her body convulsing powerfully. The violence in her orgasm is enough to drop her legs out from beneath her, but my hips keep her body upright, still pinning her to the wall.
“Good girl.” I kiss her lips, pulling my fingers from her body, letting her stabilize her footing before stepping back. Righting her dress with one hand, I lick her orgasm from my other.
“You taste like sin.”
Dark eyes drunk with lust, her gaze cuts across the swell stretching my dress pants. My cock dying to escape the confines of the material.
“Frankie.” Jake’s voice hits us before he does, giving us ample time to step away from the intimacy of our stance. His stare pauses on us for a second, uncertainty plaguing his eyes before he dismisses it. “’Nother set, babe. You good to go?”
Her eyes flick back to me, down the length of my body, a small smile tipping her kiss-swollen lips up. “Raring.”
She takes three steps before she turns back, her tongue wetting her lips. “Nice... chat, friend.”
The taste of her orgasm still dancing along my tongue, I look to the ceiling, a defeated sigh escaping in a puff of air.
“Friend. I can do that.” Truth is, I don’t have a choice. She’s either in my life as a friend, or she’s not in it at all. Scary as it is to admit, I don’t want to consider that possibility. I like her. Which may be dangerous, but I’m man enough to admit it.
Friends. No benefits.
I nod, ignoring the giant fucking erection tightening my pants and the taste of her pussy on my lips.
I can do that….