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“This is work, baby.” His lips graze against the shell of my ear. “We might be able to fit in some fun,” he whispers.
I shiver in anticipation at his words.
“You might like this, then,” I whisper. Placing my hand over his at the hem of my dress and guiding him underneath, his fingers brush along the lace at the top of my crotchless panties and he trails it down towards my bare pussy, sucking in a breath as his finger circles my clit.
“Just for you, sir.”
“Such a good little slut for me.”
I can’t deny the way his words get to me. He withdraws his hand and taps my ass.
“I’ve got a bottle of champagne chilling downstairs. Let me go and have a shower and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
My hand trails over his hard cock, straining against his zipper.
“You don’t want me to fix this for you before?”
With a wicked grin on his lips, he shakes his head in amusement.
“You’ll be getting plenty of it tonight. Don’t worry about that.” He places a fierce kiss on my lips, almost leaving me breathless as he waltzes off into his en-suite.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I savor the sensation of the fizzy bubbles dancing on my tongue before the silky liquid goes down my throat. Sitting on the barstool, I keep looking over to the hallway, waiting for Frankie to come down. Even from just a little bit of the alcohol, I have that buzz of excitement running through me.
For the first time, I think I belong somewhere. I’m accepted for exactly who I want to be. Even with my recklessness, my defiance.
My mouth gapes as Frankie walks through the door, tugging his black suit jacket tighter, giving me a boyish grin, letting me get another peek of the tattoos on his forearm. His crisp white shirt with the top button undone. That smart yet rugged look about him, a perfect match to me.
“Look at you, handsome.” I wink at him and hold out his flute of champagne. His hand wraps around my waist, and the familiar aroma of his masculine aftershave fills my senses.
With a swift motion, he tilts his head back, emptying his glass in one gulp. After he places it on the counter, I feel a rush of warmth as his nose brushes against my neck.
“We have to go, baby.”
I run my hand along his coarse beard, feeling the roughness against my fingertips, before bringing his lips to mine to steal a passionate kiss.
I grab my jacket from the counter and put it on.
“What are you doing?” He pulls back with a frown, looking at the black leather covering my arms.
“Take it off.”
His harsh tone catches me off guard, causing me to blink at him in surprise.
“Don’t you think this dress would look better with all my tattoos covered?”
My dad always told me that my skin looks a mess and they make me look unprofessional and reckless.
He pushes it off my shoulders and tosses it across the room onto the dining table.
I look away, staring down at the snake tattoo I have wrapping around my forearm. This one was always my favorite, so I put it in a prominent place. Why do I want to hide that?
As he grips my chin, he turns me to him, his touch gentle, yet firm. His face softens and I feel a warmth in his gaze as our eyes meet. “No, dolcezza. That ink is a reflection of you. If they don’t accept you for who you are, they don’t deserve a single fucking second of your time.”
I don’t know what to say.
His finger trails down my arm, tracing past the flowers, the butterflies and on the delicately detailed snake. “I never want you to hide, not from me, not from anyone. You need to realize just how special you are, angel.”
I blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes. Never in my life have I been accepted, not like this. “Thank you, Frankie.”
