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“In other words, he’s a screamer,” Joe said, then complained when Sarah backhanded his thigh in disapproval. I hid my smirk behind my hand, and Franky ushered me out, letting Joe and Sarah know we’d be around for dinner.
“Oh, where can I find Beatrice these days?” Franky called back.
“She’s in the office today. Give her a call. She’d love to hear from you,” Joe said.
We collected our bags from the trunk and trekked to the guest house where we made ourselves at home for the next few weeks.
We spent our mornings watching the sun rise and taking long walks before stopping into Joe’s Coffee Shop for his specialty tea. It was called The Sourpuss. Named after Franky, and item number one on the menu.
In the afternoons we planted daisies around the property and took the boat out on the lake. Evenings were reserved for dinners with Joe and Sarah or sessions with Beatrice, and our nights were dedicated to making love.
I hadn’t even scratched the surface yet with Beatrice, and some nights the dreams returned with an intensity that made me feel like they were mocking me and the progress I’d thought I made. Still, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t understand how Franky ever had. Everything felt right in the world here. It felt like we were in ourownlittle world here.
“I’m not ready to leave,” I whispered as Franky moved between my legs. He’d been taking me gently lately, per my request. Thrusting in and out of me at an agonizingly slow pace as I touched and memorized the sharp planes of his body. I was in my soft season, he’d said to me once. The season where I made love to remember, instead of fucking to forget.
“Then we won’t,” he said, kissing me with one forearm pressed into the mattress near my head while his other hand swept delicately along my collarbone. I crossed my ankles at his lower back, enjoying the feel of his cock diving in and out of me at a speed that said we had hours, days,yearsuntil this needed to end.
“What about the bar?” I asked, panting into his mouth as he kissed me again and again.
“It’s running like a well-oiled machine,” he said, pausing to groan my name. “You hired a manager, and you’ve got a great team of employees working there. And you know Cole isn’t going to let anything go wrong while we’re gone.”
I flipped him to his back, the move creating a breeze that blew out the flame of one of the candles surrounding the platform bed. Franky was gorgeous beneath me, with the light of the moon hitting him through the open balcony doors. “One more week,” I said, my orgasm stretching its arms as Franky’s hand hugged my erection. One week wouldn’t be enough. The little boy in me had been repressed for too long, had suffered one too many atrocities, and with all the good the town of Lockwood had brought to my life, my nightmares, when they came, still threatened to break me.
“Two weeks,” he countered, jacking me off as I played with his nipples.
“Three,” I breathed, deciding we only lived once, and that I wanted to do it here, with him inside of me and the lake bearing witness to it.
“One…month,” he countered, then groaned, stilling and filling me with his spunk.
“Yes,” I hissed, letting my head fall back as I rocked my hips back and forth until I came.
Franky removed all traces of cum from our bodies, rubbing his belly and licking his lips once done. We lay facing each other on our sides, petting and massaging exposed skin.
“I think I want to find my mother,” I whispered, as if saying it too loud would somehow conjure her up.
“Did Beatrice suggest that?”
“Not in so many words, but it’s time. I need to resolve this part of my life. I need to know why. I need to know what made her that way. Maybe then the nightmares will stop.” For once I was beginning to question what her past must have been like for her to have turned out the way she had. We were all a sum of our experiences and trauma, and I wondered about the horrors she must have faced for her to do what she did to me. “I might not find her.”
“We will,” Franky promised.
“She might not even be alive.”
“Then we’ll deal with that too,” he said, refusing to let me wallow in pessimism.
The rising sun stole our attention away from each other, and we watched it climb over the water, as if it were the first time it had ever accomplished something so impressive.
I sighed, dragging my nails through his chest hairs. “Did coming here even make sense if we can’t stay long enough for me to make headway with Beatrice? I know we can’t stay a month. Or three weeks. Or even two,” I said, convinced it had been the racing orgasms talking.
“We can do whatever we want. Whatever you need, Leland.”
“What about Cole and Jasper?” I asked, resting my chin on his chest when he shifted to his back. “Don’t you miss them?” They’d gotten married soon after Jasper and Franky made amends, and they’d only recently gotten back from their honeymoon before we left, so we hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with them.
“Yes, but you’re my priority now. Choosing you means I go where you go. It means what makes you happy brings me unmeasurable joy. You come first, Leelee Bear.”
“Will I never outrun that damn name?” I asked, smiling up at him.
“You know,” Franky said, stroking my hair as his gaze grew distant. “Now that I think about it, as boys, Jasper used to refer to Cole as Coley-bear.”
