22
Frankie
“Frankie…oh God, Frankie! Harder! Push it in harder!”
At the sound of Derek’s voice behind me, I smile, and stop fumbling with the key in the mailbox. “It gets stuck. It doesn’t fit well.”
“I bet that’s what Evan says when you try to put what all the bottoms at the Midtown Flex say is a pretty big dick inside his itty-bitty hole. Not as big as Jackson’s, of course, and he’s not as tight as me, but you know what I mean.”
“That’s not what I heard about you.” Making a fist, I push it forward, mimicking fisting.
“You wish, and are you kink-shaming? I never would have thought.”
An image of Evan on all fours, his hood on and a tail between his ass cheeks flashes in my mind. “No…definitely not. No kink-shaming here.”
“I notice you didn’t deny that Evan would know what your cock feels like. Finally making an honest bottom out of him.”
I can’t help but chuckle at Derek’s humor. It’s crazy how perfect for Jackson he is, considering they’re so different. “Mind your own business before I tell your daddy on you.” I wink.
“What? So he’ll spank me? Not a threat.” Bottom Boy, as the crew has dubbed him, blows a kiss at me and walks away.
There’s still a smile on my face as I finally work the key into the lock and open the box. Once I have the mail, I flip through it as I head toward the elevator.
The grin slides off my face, my stomach automatically dropping to my feet. My hand shakes as I hold the letter between my fingers.
Tim Johnson.
San Bernardino, California—back home where he ran to when he was released from prison.
He wrote me. The motherfucker wrote me. What the hell could he be thinking? Does my biological father really think I want to hear from him? That after all this fucking time, I give a shit about him? He severed each and every one of those ties when he put his hands on my mom over and over again. When she hurt as I hid in the closet, tears streaming down my face as I called 911.
My instinct is to crumple it up and set the motherfucker on fire, but instead I take a few deep breaths, pushing one foot in front of the other until I get to the elevator and the doors slide open. I don’t give a fuck about him. I haven’t for a long-ass time and I don’t plan to start now. Whatever he has to say doesn’t matter.
Trying to ignore what suddenly feels like a ten-pound envelope, I continue to make my way upstairs. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t fucking matter, whispers quietly in my head, but I try to ignore that too.
The second I open the door to our unit, the scent of tomatoes and garlic attacks my senses.
“Oh my God. You’re home early! I’m not ready!” Evan says from the kitchen, and automatically, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. This is what matters now. My life, Evan, my mom. Not him.
“Smells good in here. What’s the occasion?” I ask as I close the door. We’re both decent cooks, but the truth is, we don’t do it often. We’d both rather order out than take the time to cook.
I step into the kitchen to see Evan standing in front of the stove, wearing an apron we didn’t have before.
“There is no occasion,” he says with a smile. “I just wanted to do something nice for you as a thank-you for the other night. It might not be as good as your mom’s homemade Mexican food, but hopefully not too bad.”
My heart thuds in a way that tells me I’m feeling a whole lot of something. “Aren’t you the cutest fucking thing in the world? And I’m sure it will be great.”
I toss the mail onto the counter.
“Well, I don’t know about that. There’s got to be a few things cuter.”
Chuckling, I walk over to him and wrap my arms around him from behind. “Next time you should be naked under the apron.” I nuzzle his neck, suck the lobe of his ear, and feel him tremble.
“I can do that,” he replies breathlessly. “But I got an apron for you too, so if I have to cook naked for you, you have to do the same.”
“Aww, you were thinking about me, Pup?” I ask.
“They were buy one, get one free,” he replies.
“Whatever.” I pull away, and playfully run my fingers through his hair the way I know he likes.
“I’m kidding. Of course I was thinking about you. I thought we could have a nice dinner together and then maybe we could play like you mentioned the other night.”
Warmth spreads through my gut. Puppy play is exactly what I need right now to take my mind off the letter from the sperm donor.
“I was going to have everything on the table already, but someone came home early.” He jabs me in the chest with a finger.
“Do you want me to leave again and come back in once you’re done? I’m good at acting surprised.”
Evan gives me a smile, big and toothy and fucking perfect. It’s so fucking easy to make him happy. I wish more people in his life would have taken the time to do it.
“I’ll be in the hallway. Let me know when it’s ready.” I make it half a step before he wraps a hand around my wrist.
“Thank you,” he says, a sort of sweetness in his voice that’s new.
“For what?”
“For being you.” Then, Evan tugs my beanie down over my eyes. “Now go sit down. You don’t have to wait in the hallway.”
“How am I supposed to do that if I can’t see?”
“Oh my God. You’re such a dork.” He laughs.
After righting my beanie, I head over to our small dining room table, trying to ignore the stack of mail on the counter.
Evan is right behind me, setting the table and then bringing over a pan of spaghetti and meatballs.
“I feel weird sitting here while you do all this.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You can do it next time.”
“Deal.”
Once we’re at the table together with our plates made, Evan watches me as I twist my fork in the noodles, cut off a bite of the meatball and eat it. “Oh, God. I think I just came. This is fucking good.”
He gives me another of those happy grins before we start eating together. He tells me about his day at work, running into Hayden at the gym, and things like that. I enjoy just listening to him talk, seeing how excited he gets over the smallest things. It might sound funny to say, but he reminds me of a puppy in that way—happy, loving, just wanting to enjoy life and be around people he loves. It’s a rare quality.
“What?” Evan asks after a few minutes, making me realize I was staring at him.
“Nothing.”
“How was your day?” he asks.
“It was good.” I take a bite, chew, and then say, “I got a letter from the sperm donor. That fucked it up a little, but I came home to dinner so it’s all good now.”
“Wait. You what? You got a letter from your biological father and you’re just saying something? Oh my God, Frankie. What did it say?”
“Don’t know. I didn’t open it.” I pull my beanie off and toss it on the table.
“Are you going to?” he asks.
“I don’t know that either…I…fuck. I hate him, Ev. You know that. I can’t even think about him without going back to that day. Without hearing her. I…” Shit. I totally hadn’t wanted to do this tonight, but there’s something about him that makes me just open up, like I can’t help but spill my secrets to him.
“Jesus. You should have said something. You’re always there for me. Let me be there for you too.” He stands and walks over to me. I pull Evan to my lap, wrapping his arms around me. “Whatever you do, you know I’ll support you. If you don’t want to read it, I’ll support you. If you want me to read it, I can do that. Whatever you need.”
“This helps,” I reply, running my hands up and down his back before cupping his ass. “I love that I can do this any time I want now.” I lean in, lick his collarbone. “And this.”
“You’re trying to distract me,” Evan replies.
“Is it working?” I ask against his skin.
“No.” He cups my face, so I have to look at him.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t know what to say, Pup. He wrote. I hate him. I don’t know what to do and by not knowing, I worry I’m going to do the wrong thing. I’m afraid of somehow letting my mom down. I did as a kid, and I don’t want to do it again.” Sighing, I continue, “She’s forgiven him. She thinks it’s smart, healthy, but I can’t do it and I know that disappoints her.” Mom’s always said she thinks I need to make my peace with him, that I’ll regret it one day if I don’t. She would never push a relationship with him, but she thinks I need to find my closure with him.
“You didn’t let her down. How could you? You were a child. You saved her.”
“I should have done it sooner.” I shrug.
“You were a child,” he reiterates his point. “He was your dad. You saved her. She’s here because of you. There’s no way you could let her down. We can’t all forgive, and that’s okay. She knows that.”
But I could let her down. I know she’d always love me and support me, but I know I could let her down. She’s so damn good. She’s the kind of person who would forgive him. Who would reply to him. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want to play with my pup.”
“We don’t have to do that tonight. I’m sure that’s not what’s on your mind.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? It’s exactly what I need. I don’t want to think about him. This pup thing helps you deal with shit and it helps me too. There’s nothing I want more right now than to play with you.”
“Woof!” he barks out, making me smile.
“There’s my pup. Why don’t you go get ready for me?”
“Okay,” he replies and then licks my neck.
“Someone’s feeling naughty. I’m going to take a quick shower. Do me a favor? Will you wear your harness for me? And a jock?”
He sits back so I can see him, fire in his eyes. Fuck yes, Evan wants this as much as I do.
“Okay.”
“Good boy.” I rub his neck. “Meet me in the living room when you’re done.”
Evan nods and climbs off my lap. I’m practically fucking skipping to my damn room; I’m so excited for what’s to come. Thoughts of my mom, the sperm donor, and anything else are forgotten. I know they’ll be there when I’m done, but this evening is about me and Pup Runt.
I take a quick shower, wash off, and then pull on a pair of underwear and basketball shorts, making sure I have a baggie of Reese’s Pieces, a condom, and lube in my pocket. Afterward, I head to my closet where I put a few of the things I’m hoping to use with my pup tonight into a bag.
He’s still not in the living room when I get there, making me wonder what all he’s doing to get ready for me tonight.
After making sure the blinds are closed, I pull a couple of things from the bag, toss it to the couch, and then head for his room. The door is cracked, so I knock gently before pushing it open. Pup Runt crawls from the other side of the bed, as if he’d just finished getting ready, decked out in full gear—hood, collar, harness, mitts, knee pads, and a jock, his sexy fucking ass on display.
“Christ, you look hot.”
He cocks his head as if he doesn’t understand. Fuck, he’s getting pretty good at this puppy thing.
“Stay,” I order before I make a slow circle around him. His ass is so damn hot, a tight fucking peach I want to devour. “Good boy.” I reach out and scratch him behind his ear. “I have something for you.”
Kneeling down, I pull the small, bone-shaped tag out of the bag. It’s blue, with studs that match his collar. “See? I made a trip to the pet store and got you a tag. Has your name on the front—Pup Runt, so everyone knows who you are. And if you get lost, it says on the back to return to me.” I turn it around, so he can see the engraving on both sides—his name and also where it says, If lost, please return to Frankie, on the back.
“Frankie?” Evan whispers, but his voice comes out muffled because of the hood. He reaches for it as though he’s going to take it off.
“Shh. Pups don’t talk. Be a good boy so I can put this on you.”
There’s a pause and then a soft bark before the little runt nudges my hand with his nose.
“Oh, now I see someone is excited,” I say, chuckling. Pup Runt lifts his chin, so I can get to the O ring on his collar. I attach the tag, feeling a strange, powerful sort of strength and possessiveness surging through me. “Such a pretty boy,” I tell him when I’m finished, before giving him scritches. Pup Runt puts his front paws on me, nearly knocking me over as he wiggles with excitement, pushing his snout into my neck and alternating between barks and whimpers.
Happiness expands in my chest, a manic sort of laughter coming out of me as I play with him.
“Good boy, such a good boy.” I make sure to reward him with positive feedback, knowing how important that is for pups. “Sit.”
Pup Runt immediately backs off me and does as he’s told. “Good pup.” I push a Reese’s Piece into his mouth through the hood. “Look what else I got you!” I say, pulling the floppy-eared stuffed animal from the bag.
Before I realize what’s going on, Pup Runts grabs it from my hand, turns and runs from the room, the toy hanging from his mouth.
There’s the knowledge there, in the back of my mind that this is different, but it’s eclipsed by how it makes me feel, how it makes him feel, and what I realize we’re both getting out of it.
“Silly pup.” Shoving to my feet, I follow him into the living room. He’s sitting by the couch, the toy still hanging out of his mouth, but I can see the hesitance in his body. “It’s okay to be playful,” I tell him, hoping that’s the right thing. “But you have to obey too.”
The toy falls out of Pup Runt’s mouth. On what I assume is a reflex, Evan reaches for it, with his mitted hands.
That won’t do at all.
“Someone keeps forgetting they’re a pup.” I walk over and kneel in front of him again. I scratch his neck, then say, “Lay.” He obeys, rolling to his back so I can rub his belly.
“I have an idea,” I add. “I think it’ll help you really get in the pup mindset and I have to admit, I’m fucking dying to see it.” I continue rubbing his belly with one hand as I dig into the bag with the other. “You’re such a good pup, remember that. I want to walk my pup, want to see him wag his cute little tail.”
I feel his muscles tense up and I know he realizes what I’m going to ask. His eyes go wide, and I shake my head before he can try to speak.
Crazy as it sounds, it feels like everything goes in slow motion as I reach into the bag and pull out the packaged tail. “You can do this, Pup. You’re such a good boy.” I give him one last rub and add, “One bark for no. Two for yes.”