Love Burns Page 5

  “That night, I sent Trent on an errand while I stayed with Frankie. He was gone about fifteen minutes when I got a phone call saying that he got pulled over and that they were giving him a hard time about the piece in the glove box. He told them it was registered to me and that he didn’t even know it was in there. They told him unless he could verify that it wasn’t his weapon that they were taking his ass in.” Shaking his head he goes on, “The Princess hasn’t been alone for a single minute since you’ve been gone. I’ve slept there every night and the only reason I left her alone right then was because she told me that the detectives were on their way there. Any minute they would be pulling up. I asked Trent where he was, he wasn’t even a mile away. I figured I’d show them my registration and get our asses back.” He lets loose a bitter laugh. “When I got there it was like a fucking circus. Nothing they did or said made any sense to me and I challenged them at every turn. I kept thinking that something wasn’t right, this should’ve been routine. I had all of my paperwork in order, nothing that should have caused any issues. After dealing with their bullshit and them asking about my military background, I knew they were stalling.” He looks up at me, “I handed them my gun, told them to keep it, told Trent to leave the truck and we jumped in Frankie’s Rover and got the fuck out of there. I got played. I’m not sure why, but I did. They played me and by the time we pulled up to the house, it was too late.” Sighing heavily he stands. “You love her, I get it, but I do too and I never want to see her get hurt again. If I could have stopped it, I would have killed him the moment I opened the door and asked questions later. I’ve slept at Indie’s since that night Frankie had a panic attack and I felt like she was keeping more from us all. Been by her side when she needed a friend and took care of her when you couldn’t. I got played, bro.” Lifting his hands palm up, he shrugs. “Do what you need to, but I would lay down my life for her. Believe that. And right now, she needs all of us.”

  Unblinking, I process everything he’s told me while he and Sonny stand staring at me, waiting to see how this is going to play out. “Did you know about the letters and the phone calls?” I ask them both.

  Reggie shakes his head no as does Sonny. “I had a feeling that she was hiding something, but I wasn’t sure what it was. To be honest, I thought it had to do with that punk, Flashdance. I figured she didn’t want me reporting back to you, which I was, and that’s what she was being secretive about. I brought it up briefly with Sonny and he said to keep a closer eye on her, and I did.”

  Sonny stands. “If we had known what was really going on, Deac, we would have told you. I want to win the title too, but not at Frankie’s expense. We wouldn’t have kept that from you, and that’s probably why she never said anything to Reggie.” I huff out a breath and nod in agreement. He’s right about that. The Princess is stubborn as shit, always has been. She would suffer in silence instead of taking the risk of telling them and them in turn telling me. She knows I would have forfeited every single fight I had slated if I knew she needed me. I raise my chin in acknowledgment.

  “It’s more serious than she was letting on, D,” Reggie admits reluctantly.

  “How do you mean?” Confused, I wait for him to explain to me how it could be any worse.

  “While you two were inside Indie’s place packing, I grabbed the mail, and there was a letter in there.” He shifts, reaching into his back pocket, handing me a Ziploc bag with what looks like a greeting card.

  “What is this?” I demand as I take it from him. He has a tissue in the baggie that I use to slip it out of it’s cheery looking purple envelope. There’s no stamp, no return address, just Frankie’s name and address. Carefully I unfold the slip of paper.

  Francesca,

  Hope that you have healed from the last time we saw one another. I will take great joy in hurting you again, this time while your fiancé watches. Maybe the taste of your blood will make him talk.

  See you soon, darlin’

  My insides quake with the fury I feel. The muscles in my jaw tick and bulge, my molars being ground to nothing as I try to get my composure. Handing the envelope to Sonny who was standing beside me quietly, waiting to read, I turn to Reggie.

  “She’s staying here, but we’ll be at the gym a lot over the next few months. Frankie is not to be left alone for any reason. I don’t care if someone is being hauled off to jail by their dick, she is not to be left alone at any time for any motherfucking reason.” My voice is a little shaky with my rage. “Get this to Adams immediately. We’ll have everything forwarded here. But I don’t want shit like this getting into Frankie’s hands.” I glance over Sonny who nods, his face flushed with his own anger. Narrowing my eyes in warning, “I swear to fuck, Reggie, someone better be with her every second of every fucking day. You’re my friend, my brother, and we’ve been through a lot together, but she’s my girl and she’ll come first every fucking time,” I state simply.

  Reggie nods, “As it should be, bro. I promise, it will never happen again. I’ll call in some of the other guys we’ve worked with in the past too. We’ll have this place swarming with Jarheads,” he jokes, trying to lighten up the tension in the room.

  I stick my hand out and we shake, and then he pulls me in for that man hug slap thing and that’s the end of it. Sonny pops in a DVD of Rude Awakening’s last fight and we all sit there silently watching, pissed off and on edge over the letter. My brother must have recognized my need for some normalcy to decompress after that shit. I refuse to believe that we can’t keep her safe. I’ll hire a fucking army if I have to.

  Frankie’s been at my place almost a week now, and although she sleeps in my bed every night, in my arms, all we’ve done is sleep. Something isn’t quite right with my girl at the moment and I can’t figure out what the fuck it is. I’ve been in the gym no less than ten hours a day, but tonight, I’m taking the night off to have dinner with Frankie. No brothers, no security, just us. I’ll cook for her; maybe that will help me get her out of her panties. Lying next to her every night, waking up tangled in each other, and I’m a walking fucking hard on. Who the fuck am I kidding? I was hard a lot even when I could take her whenever I wanted. All she has to do is walk into a room and I go solid. I’m like a damn thirteen-year-old punk again. It’s worse now though because I have no place to put that raging hard on except my own hand, and that’s only fun while you’re doing it.

  Reaching her studio, I look through the glass partition and see that she’s in the middle of a class. My heart stutters then stops before it takes off at a punishing pace when I see her. The first thing I notice is that she isn’t dancing with Flashdance. No, he’s hovering in the corner by the music system eyeing Frankie and the guy she is dancing with. I’ve not seen him before and he’s definitely a pro and not one of her students. She brings in different dancers all the time to help with choreography and shit, but I bet that Cristiano is pissed as hell that she’s brought someone in to help with what looks like the Tango—their specialty. They’ve won more awards in Latin dancing for their Tango than any other form of dance when they were partners. Turning my attention back to the Princess, I lean against the glass, my arms raised, gripping the ledge above my head. Watching her dance with another man is like the sweetest fucking form of torture. She’s incredible, sensual, so goddamn sexy. Frankie dances like I fight. All heart, with everything that she is, because it matters. It’s who she is.

  She has on a black dress that is slit high in the thigh, and with every kick, I catch a glimpse of black lace panties. Jesus fuck. Whoever this guy is, he’s good. I want to fucking kill him right now for having his hands all over—and I mean all the fuck over—my girl, but he’s got talent. I watch as she flicks her feet in between his legs, her movements clean and precise. He pushes her away and spins her back into him, lifting her so that his face is pressed against her chest before sliding her down his front all the way into a split on the floor. Grabbing her by the wrists, he pulls her back into his hold and then spins and dips her around the
floor in a wide circle as the class watches. I’m worried about her head when I watch the Tango King twirl her away and then back into his arms, her leg wrapped high around his waist as he bends to the floor.

  I can’t take any more and am about to walk away when I realize that Frankie is looking right at me. My gaze locks on to hers, and I watch, more turned on than I should be, as her back is pressed to his front, his hands curved around her ribs, brushing the underside of her tits as he buries his face in her neck swaying them back and forth, and all the while she’s watching me. Her eyes blue flames pinning me to the spot and lighting my ass up. It’s like she’s beckoning to me. Telling me that she sees me and that her every movement is done with me in mind. One of his hands travels right up the center of her, palm flat, and then encircles her throat gently, eliciting a growl from me.

  Shaking my head no, she tosses his hand away forcefully as she turns into his hold, breaking our eye contact. I can’t watch anymore. I’m so hard I could probably fuck her through the wall. Looking to where Flashdance is still standing, I smile when I catch him glaring at me. He’s not dumb. He’s aware of what just went on between Frankie and I. What he doesn’t know is that little eye fucking she gave me is gonna get her fucked. Tonight. Smirk firmly in place, I poke my head in the studio just as they take their bows.

  “Frankie!” I call out, stopping her. Slowly she turns to face me just as Cristiano makes it to her side, placing a proprietary hand on the small of her back. She glances at him and smiles but steps away, breaking contact, his hand falling away in the process.

  “Yes?” she asks a little breathlessly.

  “As soon as this class is over I’m taking you home.” And fucking you until you can’t walk is implied in my tone. Although I don’t say the words, she knows. She can feel it and when she nods her head in acceptance, I grin wickedly at her and then turn it up a notch when I look into the furious face of Cristiano. Motherfucker looks about one word away from a stroke. Let me see what I can do to help that along. “Oh, and Princess, love the black lace. It’s my favorite on you.”

  Back at my place, it takes me nearly an hour to get rid of Reggie, Trent, and my pain in the dick brothers. When I finally do, I head for the kitchen and start pulling stuff out for dinner. Everything prepped for our meal, I wait on the Princess to finish with her shower. I can’t stop myself from thinking about her, naked, wet, flushed from the heat of the water. Groaning, I slide my hand into the front of my low slung sweatpants and squeeze my cock roughly, willing myself into control. I’m startled from my nasty thoughts when I hear what sounds like a woman moaning throughout the kitchen. The fuck? Turning, I see Frankie walking in with the iPad, controlling the sound system.

  “This is straight up porn music, you know that, right?” I ask, causing her steps to falter. “You trying to seduce me with dirty music, Princess?” The flush starts at her chest and inches up her neck to her cheeks. Following its path, my gaze lingers on her mouth and her lip caught in between her teeth. “What song is this? It’s about to get you fucked.” There will be no bullshit between us tonight. I’m just telling her how it is. My mouth and my cock are on the same page, and they both want Frankie.

  “‘Wa-waiting Game,’” she stammers making her way slowly to where I’m leaning against the counter, my hand still tucked into the front of my sweats and boxer briefs, holding on to my cock. Placing the iPad down, she looks at me through lust glazed eyes. “Are you cooking?” She’s trying to change the subject. It won’t work. I’m too fucking worked up.

  “Later. Who were you dancing with today?”

  “Oh.” She’s thrown off by my abrupt change in topic. Little does she know. “That was Roman. He and I bounce ideas for choreography off of each other all the time and he needed me to help him out.” She glances down at the hand in my waistband and quickly back up. Snaking my arm out, I hook her around the waist and pull her to me, swinging Frankie onto the counter and stepping in between her legs in one quick, fluid motion. Soft, tiny hands find my bare shoulders to steady herself and I use it to my advantage and push in a little closer. Close enough to see the navy flecks in her crystalline eyes and the rapid pulse in her throat. Pressing my lips to that spot, I smile against her coconut-scented skin when she gasps. I love that no matter how many times we’ve done this, my lips on her elicit that same reaction. Every. Time. Dragging my lips up until I end at her ear, “Does dancing with him make you hot?” I breathe against her.

  “No.” Her answer is nothing more than an exhale.

  “Mmmm, no? Watching you with him made me hot. Not as hot as you eye fucking me while he touched you though.” Pressing in even tighter, I can feel the heat of her pussy against my bare skin. Taking my hands, I place them on her knees. She glances down, watching as they make a path inward to her thighs. Pressing and kneading, my fingertips nearly touching her pussy through the thin cotton of her shorts. Never stopping, I drag my callused touch back to her knees where I begin the journey all over again, this time grazing against her clit in the softest touch. A touch that sets her legs to tremble and me to rock my hips forward, digging my now solid cock into the cabinet. The bite of wood not affecting me in the least. Frankie’s breath catches when I use a fingernail to trace over her, pressing the material into her wetness. I groan when I realize that she isn’t wearing anything under the tiny bottoms. Eyes clashing, “I never thought I would enjoy watching another man with his hands on you. I think it was knowing that the whole time he touched you, you wanted it to be me. You were thinking about me fucking you. Weren’t you?” My hands are still roaming over her and into those barely-there shorts. With every pass of my fingers over the damp lips of her pussy, of her clit, she arches into my touch a little more. “Weren’t you, Frankie? You were imagining that those hands all over you were mine. That it was my cock pressed into your back.” I lean back so that I can see her face clearly. “Tell me you wanted me, Frankie. I want to hear you say it,” I demand softly while my fingers continue their sweetly torturous path.

  “Deacon, we can’t keep doing thi—ahhhh,” she moans as I dip my thumb into her, running it back up her slit then out to drag the wetness along her thigh to her knee.

  “Yes. We can,” I inform her as I bend and lick the trail I left, sucking at her soft skin along the way. Reveling in the way her legs quiver under my lips and her nails dig into my shoulders. Once I reach her center, she tenses in anticipation, her breath held waiting for my next move. Instead of putting my mouth where we both want it, I place a kiss on the inside of each thigh, nipping and then soothing. “Tell me that you wanted me, Frankie. And that you want me now, and I’ll give you what you want. What we both want.” Placing another kiss to her sex-scented skin, I wait her out, hovering over her pussy, breathing the scent of her arousal. Jesus fuck, if she doesn’t say yes . . . running my nose over her clit, she clutches my head, pulling the hair from its tie. She’ll say yes.

  “I wanted you. All I could think about was you inside of me, your hands on me. You understand my body, what I want, everything I need. I need you now.” I can’t see her face, but I can hear the heat in her words, the carnality in her rasp. “Fuck me, please. Dirty like you used to, Deac. Like if you didn’t claim me you would die, I would die. Please?” she begs as she writhes, trying to put her sweet cunt closer to my face. Growling, I yank her shorts down her legs and over her feet, tossing them somewhere behind me. Frankie starts to lie back when I still her with my hands against her spine. The granite is too hard and cold for what I have in mind. Placing her legs over my shoulders, my palms flat against the center of her back, I stand, bringing her with me, perfectly aligning her pussy and my mouth. Placing a kiss right to her center, I turn to the wall closest to us and make my way over.

  “Deacon,” she moans, tightening her hold on me. “I’m going to fall,” she says halfheartedly.

  Glancing up from in between her legs, “Do you trust me?” I ask. When she hesitates and I see that little flicker of doubt shadow her eyes, I die
a little inside. “Do you trust me to keep you safe, Princess?” I clarify. She nods that she does and that’s all the encouragement I need. I press her back against the wall, holding her there as I delve into her pussy. Her soft moan echoes the ones coming from the speakers, fueling me. With my hands under her ass, I hoist her a bit higher and nuzzle right into her heat, her wetness on my face, clinging to the stubble of my beard. Groaning, I pull her clit into my mouth and release it with an audible pop before I press my tongue deep into her, spearing in and out, mimicking what my cock is aching to do. I hum low in my throat while my mouth covers her, the vibrations making her call out my name and clutch the long strands of my hair as she grinds into my face.

  I smile against her glistening lips and pull back just far enough to blow a soft breath over her and watch as her pussy quivers, her body begging me for release just as her words are. “Don’t tease me, Deacon. I want to come, please let me come,” she pleads.

  “You want to come all over my face, baby? Do it. Come all over my face and then I’m going to make you come all over my cock. Over.” I lick right through her center and flick my tongue around her clit. “And over.” My tongue flattens on her again as I use my beard to rasp against her and almost come all over myself at the low throaty sound she makes. “And over. Until you can’t stand. Until you can’t take it anymore and you beg me to stop just so I can start again. I’ll fuck you dirty, Princess. I’ll fuck you dirty until we’re both clean.” I never remove my mouth, every word uttered against her pussy while she grinds against me, my words bringing her closer. I won’t be able to take much more of this. I need to be buried inside my girl—now. I stop teasing her and fuck her with my tongue, my lips, my beard, and when she comes, it’s long and loud and fucking hot as hell. Flicking over her one last time, I don’t give her a chance to come down from the high she’s on, sliding her down so that her legs are wrapped around my waist instead of my head. As quickly as I can, I turn us toward the media room, the closest to us and therefore perfect. Reaching down, I hit the recline button on the overstuffed chair and untangle her legs from around me and place her in the center of it. My hands braced on the arms, I lean over her and place a kiss on her open mouth, the taste of her pussy dancing over both of our tongues as they meet. Lifting her arms over her head, I reach for the hem of her shirt and pull it off, using it to wipe the wetness covering my face. Smirking, I let my eyes take in the flush covering her body and the beard burn on her thighs. “You look so fucking beautiful like this, Frankie. Spread open for me, fucked, wet, and ready.” I can’t take my eyes off of all she’s offering. She reaches out and tugs on the elastic waistband of my sweats.