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It was never too much, but sometimes my body didn’t agree. And that was okay, because even when he couldn’t outright fuck me, there were always other things he came up with to do to me.
I’d let sleep drag me by the ankle into its black cave only after Franky was done having his way with me. It would end with him breathing “enough” into the room, and then placing us on our sides and guiding my mouth to one of his taut nipples. The sucking soothed us both, lulled us both to sleep.
And every night, without fail, one recurring thought chased me into the void:This will end, Leland. And following behind that came a new realization:But not before he breaks you.
Chapter 14
Leland
Selene Kincaid mingled with the attendees all vying for her attention. I maintained a healthy distance, huddling in a corner of the art museum, stalking her every move.
I’d become increasingly curious about her over the last four weeks, and so after overhearing the follow-up conversation between Franky and Jasper, where Franky assured him that his mother’s exhaustion was simply a result of long hours spent preparing for the annual Save the Arts charity event she spearheaded, I did the one thing I shouldn’t have. I submitted a piece for the auction portion of the event, and it got accepted. It was either come as a participating artist or sell a kidney to pay the cost of admission.
Maybe it was all the nights Franky and I had spent on his boat cuddling under the moon as we exchanged childhood traumas. Maybe it was the way he trusted me with his tortured soul, trusted that I could endure it. It could’ve even been the way he clamped his arms around me when I whispered that summer was almost over as I rode him in front of a roaring fire. Maybe it was simply the Willow Meadows in me, but I had to get a glimpse of the person who probably thought they knew Franky better than me.
The harder I fell for him, the more I needed to convince myself that she wasn’t right for him. I needed to uncover her flaws to justify my role in our affair, to justify not wanting it to end.
I spent my spare time plugging her name into every search engine under the sun, getting familiar with her philanthropic work, reading every journalistic write-up ever done on her, and obsessively scanning her images. I’d blamed filters, Botox, and corneal pigmentation for her unnatural beauty. I mean, eyes that vibrant shade of green didn’t actually exist, right?
I’d wanted to hurl my phone at the wall every time. My jealousy would turn to anger, and sometimes I’d operate under the steam of both emotions, and then I’d fuck Franky because I needed to remind him of what she couldn’t give him. I needed to remind myself of how much he wanted me, of how good I made him feel, and that I was the better choice because I was built tough and could take him on at his worst.
Technically, her body was equipped with all the orifices a cock could ever need, giving her yet another advantage over me. But I’d seen and experienced the lawless side of Franky, and there was no way that at one-hundred and thirty-pounds soaking wet, and five-feet seven-inches in considerable heels, could she handle Franklin Kincaid unchecked.
At least that was what I told myself as my thighs ached from riding his dick repeatedly, as my body burned in all the places he’d attacked with his hands and teeth, and as he rage-fucked my throat raw. I told myself that whenever I bullied my way onto his lap, ignoring his bad temper and sinking onto his mountainous shaft as he swore to me that“Now isn’t a good time, Leland.”It didn’t matter whether or not he was in the right headspace; his cock never lied, and it always wanted me. And I told myself that now as my nails bit into my palms after getting my first in-person look at her.She can’t handle him.
I’d missed the registration deadline for the bartending course that started last month. Nothing could’ve torn me from Franky, and he’d been too distracted with me to remember anything about it until it was too late. He’d made sure I signed up for September’s class, though, even sending me off this morning with a good-luck-on-your-first-day fuck.
I’d pushed Betty to her limits, racing to my apartment to change into the one decent suit I owned and still make it to the museum on time.
I smoothed my expression and plucked a flute of champagne from a passing server’s tray, then slunk deeper into my corner to watch her smile and make small talk with everyone she came in contact with, shaking hands and offering her thanks to them for attending.
It didn’t matter if it was a man in a designer suit, one of the museum curators, or a young, disadvantaged artist whose piece had been selected to hang on the walls for the day. Selene greeted them all with the same warmth, the same respect, and never once appeared as if she’d rather be doing anything but speaking with them.
“Excuse me,” I said, apologizing to an older woman after stepping into the crowd and startling her. I circled the roped off floor designated for the event, sticking close to the perimeter of the room as I trailed Selene from afar, the classical music playing overhead too atmospheric to drown out the sound of my speeding heart.
I faked being absorbed by the nearby painting of an apple tree when she stopped in front of the painting I’d submitted as if compelled to, placing a hand over her sternum as she moved in closer to it.
The online images of her didn’t do her beauty justice. She was petite, but her weight filled in her lush curves, which the lacy, body-hugging emerald dress she wore did nothing to disguise.
Her ashen hair sat high in an intricate bun fastened with a rose-gold clip, stray strands fell and curled past her nape to brush against the pale skin of her upper back. I felt inferior to her already, and I hadn’t even heard her speak yet.
I hadn’t planned on making actual contact with her. I only needed to get close enough to point out her faults, to prove the internet and Franky wrong about her, both things I’d convinced myself I could do from across the room.
But there was something magnetic about her, so without thinking I allowed myself to be pulled into her orbit. I put my game face on and slithered over to the vacant spot on her left.
Selene studied my painting, wringing her hands now, not even noticing she had company. I wondered what she thought about it, wondered what about it had her so preoccupied.
It was just an abstract painting of a white dove caring for an abandoned baby blue jay. Nothing special. Nothing a toddler with some finger paint couldn’t manage.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I whispered. Selene peered up at me, and I noticed that shedidlook tired around the eyes, but it didn’t steal anything away from her beauty. If anything, it added something delicate to her regalness. It softened her confidence to something more approachable.
“Do you, now?” she asked, not missing a beat, her voice wrapping me up in a warm hug.
“You were wondering how something like this made it through those doors, and now you’re asking yourself what a young, hot stud like me is doing in a place like this.”
Selene’s girlish laugh was all sunlight and wind chimes, and I was disappointed when it came to an end on an extended sigh. “Well, you’re certainly entertaining,” she said. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but it didn’t feel personal, she seemed to have a lot on her mind. Of course she did. Her kids were hundreds of miles away, and her husband had decided he wasn’t sure he wanted to hold on to their life together.Of courseshe was tired, and unbeknownst to her, I was adding to her exhaustion.
“I was actually thinking about how much this reminded me of my son, Cole.”
