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“What’s wrong, Franky? Why’s your sexy ass out here instead of arched into my crotch as we sleep?” I groped his buns of steel.
“Jasper called. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I’m not the lightest sleeper in the world. I’m pretty sure stepping into the hall would’ve been sufficient enough.”
“And then I came out here to think.”
“You and your ocean,” I said. Franky brought all his problems to the water. “It’s almost midnight, is everything okay?”
He grunted, kissing the wrinkles between my brows as his arms tightened around me. “He didn’t expect me to be asleep. I’m usually finishing up with work around this time.” Franky sounded torn up about that.
“Is that what’s got you so restless now?” I gently eased his bottom lip from the clutches of his teeth. “Are you feeling guilty about how much you worked?”
“There’s that, but… Forget it.” He shook his head. “It’s probably nothing, and I shouldn’t be talking to you about—” Franky quieted abruptly.
“Talking to me about what?” I asked. “Or aboutwho?” I tried when he didn’t respond to my first question.“Is something wrong with Selene?”
Franky glanced over to the ocean again as if searching for solace. I wanted to be the one to give him that.
“Hey,” I said. “You’re talking to your friend now, not the man you’ve fucked twelve ways to Sunday all over this house. What’s wrong?”
“He said he spoke to his mother earlier, but only for a short while because she was exhausted.”
“Okay…” I said slowly, running his words back in case it was a riddle that my midnight-brain was too dense to solve.
“Selene is never exhausted, Leland. She thrives on the day-to-day, wants to make every minute count, and often needs to be bribed to sleep. If she was tired she would never readily admit to it.”
I swallowed hard, not expecting his undisguised reverence of her to hit me like a battering ram to the gut.He loves her.Of course he did. He’d never claimed otherwise, and just because he now enjoyed cock, didn’t mean he suddenly hated—
“And more importantly,” he said, putting a plug in my line of thinking. “She’s never too tired for them. She’d pin her eyelids to her forehead if it meant staying awake for them. Even if it was just to sit and watch them sleep.Always.”
“She sounds like an amazing mother,” I said.An amazing wife too,I thought resentfully.
“She is,” he said, clueless to the not-so-nice emotions swimming through me. “It’s got me concerned, but I don’t know if I have a right to be.” Franky looked at me, lookedintome like I was his crystal ball. Like I was his…friend.
I put my confusing feelings for Selene aside, reminding myself thatthispart of Franky’s and my relationship, the part that made it okay for our cocks to align the way they were now, would likely end.
I’d promised him—but mostly myself—that I could handle this affair for however long it lasted, that I wouldn’t push him for more or try to influence his decision about his marriage. They had history, they had kids, they had reputations to uphold, they had love. Him being the happiest he’s ever been when with me didn’t mean ending his marriage was a done deal.
I ignored the pesky voice that said my promise had been made before he touched me. That said I couldn’t have known his touch would feel like my missing piece.
Whether he left Selene or not had to be up to him, and him leaving didn’t mean he’d choose me. Did I even want to be chosen?
“Call her,” I said. “If not tonight, then in the morning. You have every right to be worried about her.”
He hugged me closer, pressing the side of his face into mine and whispering his thanks. He’d needed to hear that, needed to hear that he could still care for her, still love her.And maybe even still want her.My blunt nails dug into his back, causing him to eye me curiously. I dropped my gaze.
“Come, let me get you out of the cold.” He removed his robe and held it out for me to slip into it.
“Only if you promise to ditch all those clothes when we get inside,” I said, disguising my distress with flirtation. Nothing convinced Franky that I was okay quite like when I flirted with him.
“Promise,” he said. I now had a love-hate relationship with that word.
Franky led me inside by the hand before fisting and tugging his shirt over his head and removing his pajama bottoms. He wore nothing underneath, and it was a damn good thing because his cock was stiff enough to have busted a hole through the tight, fancy boxer briefs he typically wore.
He reclined along the length of the sofa, one foot flat on the floor and the other settling over the arm on the opposite side. This created a sliver of space between his thighs, which he gestured to. “Come lie with me.”
“This couch wasn’t made for the both of us,” I said, even as I let the robe drift off my shoulders to pool at my feet.
