I blinked rapidly, and my pulse stuttered.
That was the most blatant way a man had ever tried to coerce me into doing him. It was also comical that this was what Frankie needed so desperately to talk to me about that he stopped doing the string of things that would have led directly to me having sex with him.
I was so taken aback that the only real response I gave was a confused, nervous laugh.
“Yes, Ophelia. Have a lot of mind-blowing, filthy sex with me.”
“What’s the catch here?” I asked. “You’re saying a lot of things that I’m liking, but I know there’s something else rattling around in that head.”
“It’s obvious that we’re in dangerous waters with each other,” he said. “I can’t look at you for more than ten seconds in those fucking shorts without thinking about what they’d look like on my bedroom floor.”
Now I couldn’t either.
“There's no hiding that I have my shit with my ex. I’m just looking for someone to get me back on track, and I know you’re a hundred Olympic snowboarders deep in Colorado.”
I snorted. “I fucking wish.”
“The point is, both of us are in a situation where we can have some fun right now.”
“Like, friends with benefits?” I raised my eyebrow.
“Like friends with benefits.”
I must have fallen asleep and started dreaming. The only reason I was even moderately hesitant with Frankie was for fear of forming an attachment when we lived so far away from one another. Him being the one to bring the title to the table was not only incredibly assertive, but also made parts of me weep that weren’t my eyes.
It would be like signing a contract. Transactional pleasure for the both of us, no emotion down, and then my hot-pilot-fuckbuddy lease was up in two weeks—satisfaction guaranteed.
My head swam with the possibility. There was only one hiccup.
“What’s in it for me?” I asked.
“What?”
“I’m here to visit Florida and spend time with my Nat. What happens when we’re done hooking up or she’s holed up with Mateo for the night?”
“You know you’re welcome in my bed as long as you’d like, O.”
An idea formed like a storm cloud in my head. I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “No, if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right. You want to start dating again, you need some help, some gentle nudges back onto the lady scene—let me be your crash test dummy.”
Frankie narrowed his eyes. “You want me to practice how to date with you?”
“The last time you dated casually cell phones didn't even have internet. There’s been an entire revival of women since then, and not all of them are falling for your broody pilot act.”
“Act?” He scoffed. “I’m a fucking retired fighter pilot. I’ve seen shit, Ophelia.”
“You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a millennial on Bath and Body Works Candle Day.”
“You are chock full of weird little analogies, you know that?”
“Think about it,” I prompted him. “Treat me like you would any other date you picked up on Hook(Up), and I’ll be like a live critique partner.”
Teaching was literally my thing. I didn’t get a master’s in education and spend six years peer reviewing others in my field for nothing. I was the perfect guinea pig, and I got to have sex with him as an added bonus? My highlighters were itching.
“You’re on to something,” he agreed. “And on my end, I’ll show you what you should be expecting from any guy that takes you out when you go back home. No more fucking the bottom of the barrel because they bought you a Frosty.”
“That was literally one time.”
Frankie pinched the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.
“Kidding.” I reached over and slapped his thigh and he grabbed my hand and kept it there.
“I’m serious about this. You took this trip to do something for yourself for once. So have some fun, make the most out of me for the next couple weeks. Drive me crazy, which I already know you love to do.” He pulled me toward him and my knees dragged across the crinkling wrapping paper until I was sitting awkwardly in his lap.
Without any warning he leaned forward and kissed me, but not in the all-consuming, heart-sputtering kind of way we’d done before. This one felt oddly akin to the adult version of a pinky promise. Where Frankie was agreeing to act like a perfect gentleman for the next two weeks while he let me use him like a well-endowed dildo.
“Kiss me back,” he said.
“Is this us shaking on it?”
“Consensual, mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex. New year, we call it.”
I nodded, in utter wonderment over the whole thing. “You touch my dick…”
“I touch yours.” He smiled.
My fingers weaved through his hair as I tugged his lips back to mine.
Holy fuck we’re doing this.
I couldn’t sink my tongue into his mouth fast enough, and Frankie answered more aggressively than ever, hiking my knees up close to his hips and settling my center down over his.
The only time I’d held onto him was in the ocean where we both swayed back and forth in the waves. I could tell he was a solid wall then, but now with his back pressed against the couch and his hard chest to fully lean on, it was so easy to get lost in the feeling of his body against mine.
Frankie wound an arm around my waist, corded his fingers through the hair at the back of my head with the other hand, and held me. “God, you’re fucking fun to kiss.”
Answering, I tugged his lip between my teeth and sucked on it, which he really seemed to enjoy, because a low groan slipped out of his mouth that stirred me further awake between my legs.
I didn’t know what it was about men moaning, but the sheer knowledge of being the cause of unbridled pleasure turned sex into a competition for me. How strung out could I get him? What could I do to make him grunt the loudest? How could I make him so uncontrollably horny he flipped me on my back and pulled my pants down to my knees just to slip inside?
“Back atcha’,” I breathed, diving back in. Frankie tasted rich and sweet like the chocolate morsels we’d baked with. His teasing fingers slipped beneath the material of my tank, just above the waistband of my shorts, and mapped sensuous circles. My skin pebbled, my core ached, my nipples hardened to needy little buds. All my senses were in overload.
“Tell me what you like,” he said. “I’ll make it feel good.”
I ground my hips onto his lap for some friction and earned another one of those grunting sighs that made my eyelids flutter. “This feels good.”
“This is fucking child’s play,” he huffed. “Tell me where to touch you. It turns me on.”
Further turning him on might have put a hole through his shorts. I could feel exactly how ready Frankie was poking at my inner thigh. I shifted and lined my hips up over it.
“I like getting kissed here,” I murmured, leaning down and demonstrating on his neck just under his jaw. His skin was hot and pulsing beneath my lips.