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Bones punched me in the arm again. “Really dude? Again?”
I chuckled, and though I was teasing, there was truth to the statement as well.
“We’ll be home soon,” I added. “I’ll handle dinner. We all are going on a diet, starting tonight.”
Some groaning came from both men, but no one argued.
“It’s time for your next chapter,” Pops said.
“This one is going to end good,” I said, giving Bones the reassuring look he needed. “I’m going to make damn sure of it.”
Chapter 12
Frankie
Imarched into Ari’s office without knocking. We hadn’t fucked and made up since our last fight, and it was long overdue I remedy that. We weren’t right until we did.
I was angry. She was angry. Neither of us would apologize, since that wasn’t the way we operated. But we had an unspoken rule.
We had our own language.
A darker one.
Raw. Aggressive. And a hell of a lot more fun than most.
She had made me see red by bringing Bones Vega into the gym. I hated that motherfucker. But in all fairness, I hated everyone.
Everyone except Ari.
Ari, I would die for. I’d kill for. I’d do whatever she wanted me to do.
Ari looked up from the mound of paperwork cluttering her desk, her expression a mixture of annoyance and the familiar flicker of heat that always danced in her eyes when I barged in. The lines around her mouth deepened, not with age but with the intensity of the many wars we waged between us—silent or explosive, it didn’t matter.
“What do you want, Frankie?”
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes tracing her figure as she sat there, the queen of her domain, cluttered as it was. The sunlight streaming through the half-open blinds painted her in stripes, a tigress in her own right.
“I think you know what I want,” I said, my voice low and steady. I pushed off from the doorframe and started to close the distance between us. Every step seemed to draw out the tension.
“No.”
“You don’t get to say no.”
Ari’s gaze didn’t waver, but her fingers paused on the papers she was pretending to read. “If you think I’m going to just agree to fucking you every time you’re a dick, you’re sorely mistaken.”
I reached her desk, placed my hands on the cold surface, and leaned in. “Who said anything about agreeing?” A smirk played across my lips, challenging.
She pushed back her chair with such force it nearly toppled over, standing up so we were almost nose to nose. The scent of her perfume, that intoxicating blend of jasmine and rebellion, filled the air between us.
“We are not doing this again, Frankie,” she hissed, yet her chest rose and fell more rapidly.
I brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I can either fuck you hard. Or I can fuck you harder. You get to choose.”
Ari clenched her jaw, but I caught the slight dilation in her pupils before she could shield her desire. “You’re infuriating,” she breathed out. Abruptly, Ari shoved against my chest, creating a sliver of space between us. “We can’t keep doing this, Frankie. This... toxic cycle.” But her body betrayed her words as she swayed ever so slightly toward me again.
I reached out, took hold of her neck, and applied enough pressure that air wheezed through her parted lips. Her eyes widened, a curious mix of fear and excitement. The pulse at her throat fluttered rapidly under my touch.
“I like toxic. You like toxic. No need fighting it,” I said, barely above a whisper.
She brought her hands up to rest on my wrists, not pushing me away but not pulling me closer either. It was a dance we knew well – the push and pull, the give and take.
I leaned in closer, our lips barely touching. “You piss me off. I piss you off. It’s what we do.”
Her breath hitched as my fingers tightened slightly around her neck.
“You don’t want me to be tender. Or gentle. What you really want is for me to flip you around and shove my cock so deep inside you that you forget everything. You forget what we fought about to begin with. You want to scream out my name as I spread you wide.”
Her pupils dilated further, betraying her body’s response to my words. The struggle was visible in her eyes, the war between her mind and her desire. I knew which one would win. It always did.
“You’re... you’re such an asshole, Frankie.” Her words were barely audible, and she didn’t push me away. Instead, she leaned into my touch, her hands still resting on my wrists.
I smirked, feeling victorious. “And you love it,” I replied, my voice low and filled with confidence. I tightened my grip around her neck, not enough to choke her but sufficient to remind her who was in control.
“I hate you,” she breathed out, her eyes fluttering shut as I trailed kisses down her jawline.
