“Fine.” She steps back and I swing the door fully open, scoop her into my arms, and cross the room to the chair on the far side.
I position her sideways on my lap with my arms wrapped around her waist. I hold her close, fearful that if given the chance, she’ll bolt again.
Her posture is rigid, and I hate it.
“I’m really not mad. Not at you.”
“Then who?”
“Myself, mostly.”
“What?” She whips around to face me. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Sure, it does. It kills me that I didn’t put two and two together on my own. What kind of man doesn’t recognize the woman he—” I clamp my lips shut, but it’s too late.
“The woman he what?” Frankie asks, her entire body trembling.
I swallow roughly around the lump in my throat, deciding I may as well lay it all out there for her. “Loves. The woman he loves.”
“You love me?” she asks, a bewildered look on her face.
“Of course, I love you.”
“Why?” Her voice shakes with the threat of more tears.
“You’re it for me, Frankie. Don't you see it?”
“Please don't say it if you don't mean it.”
I grab her chin and bring her face to mine, rubbing my nose along hers before placing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I mean it with every ounce of my being. I love you. I love Maverick. Y’all are the future I want.”
She sucks in a ragged breath, before releasing it slowly. “I’m scared.” Her voice is so small, so fragile.
“I know you are, but I've got you. I won't let anything hurt you, not even me.” I stroke along her jawline with my thumb. “Don’t you know, I’d kick my own ass before hurting you.”
The smallest laugh I’ve ever heard slips past her lips, and for the first time since dinner, I feel like maybe we’re back on the right track. Like maybe this thing between us is going to work.
“Do you love me, Frankie?” I need her answer more than I need my next breath.
But she takes her sweet time replying. So long that I start to worry I’ve pushed her too far, too fast.
“Yes,” she finally says.
“Yes what?” I have to be sure.
“I love you. I have for a while, but I was too scared to let myself believe we could have any kind of future together.”
I cup her cheeks with both hands. “The only future I want is with you and Maverick.”
She nods. “You said you were all in…”
“I am.” One-thousand-fucking-percent.
“What about me working at ATF? Does that… change anything?”
“Frankie baby, I will never come between you doing what you need to do to provide for your son. Never.”
All of the breath wooshes out of her, as if she can't believe what she's hearing. “Really?”
“Really.” I lean forward and kiss the tip of her nose. “I do have one request though…”
“What?” Her whole-body tenses, like this is the part where the other shoe drops.
“Would I be out of line to ask you not to do VIP?”
The most beautiful smile takes over her whole face. “I already asked them to take my name off the list.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, hardly able to believe things are falling into place this easily.
“Yeah. This past Friday, you were my first and only VIP client.”
Unable to help myself, I wind my fingers through her long locks. “I love you, Bluebird—fuck! Can I… can I call you that?”
She bites her bottom lip as she smiles up at me. “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed hearing it.”
I give her hair a firm tug, guiding her mouth back to mine. “I love you, Bluebird,” I say again, just because I can, before claiming her with a searing kiss.
Frankie groans, and the raspy sound heats my blood as I alternate between sucking and nipping at her pillowy lips.
Bracing herself on my shoulders, she swings a leg over my lap so that she’s straddling me, instantly taking our kiss from hot to scorching as she rolls her hips, grinding herself against my rapidly growing erection.
“Orion.” I swallow her whimpered plea as she trails her fingertips over my shoulders, up my neck, and curls them into my hair. “I—”
Whatever she was about to say is lost in a throaty moan as I release her hair and palm her ass, pulling her tightly against my rock-hard cock.
“I’ve got you, Frankie.” I kiss my way down her jaw to the soft skin of her neck, licking and sucking, eagerly marking my claim on her pale skin. “Fuck, you taste like heaven.”
It’s probably only my overly active imagination, but I swear I can feel the heat of her pussy through the denim of our jeans, and I want nothing more than to rip away the offending material, because how dare it keep me from her.
I want to feel her wetness coating my fingers… my cock. I want to taste her release as she screams my name so loud our neighbors can hear it.