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Frankie tried and failed to see where he was going with this.
"You are so powerful. So competent and in charge. Nothing ever fazes you."
She swallowed hard. He brushed her curls back from her face and pulled them into a ponytail in his fist.
"And this ponytail. God, I just want to pull it, just to remind you that I can. That I'm the man who gets to kiss your neck and make you shudder." He punctuated his words with a tug and a kiss that made her knees tremble. "The man who gets to kiss these lips until they go limp." She leaned into his body as he took her mouth. "The man who gets to make you lose control."
When he gripped her hips and lifted her onto the countertop, she leaned her head back against the cabinets, unable to keep her spine straight.
"Let me take control tonight. Let me take care of you, Frankie."
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. When was the last time a man had wanted to take care of her?
"You work so hard. I think you deserve a little pampering."
A giggle slipped from between her lips and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stop others from joining it.
"What's so funny?"
"I think I'm going to like your pampering more than I liked Natalie's."
"I guaran-damn-tee it."
With a grin, he stripped off her T-shirt and tossed it onto the kitchen floor, already forgotten. His strong hands firmly traced her contours, as if she was the clay and he was the sculptor. It was just as well, because she felt as soft as putty. She so seldom got to be soft…
If this was how he reacted to seeing her in makeup, she had a new incentive to practice.
He put his lips and hands to work on her breasts, kissing and licking, plucking her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, making her gasp. When Buster jumped and put his paws on Jake's ass he fell into her and cursed. Before Frankie could get the giggle under control, Jake had tossed the steak she'd trimmed onto the floor and picked her up around the waist. She wrapped her legs around him and let him carry her back into her bedroom.
He kicked the door closed and dropped her on the bed. But then he paused and looked back at the door. "Buster can't do door handles, can he?"
She laughed so hard that her lungs were aching by the time he got her jeans tugged off. When he knelt in front of her and set his mouth to her, she was gasping for air. Then he added his fingers, and she stopped breathing.
After her first orgasm, he stripped his own clothes and donned a condom before joining her back on the bed to continue seducing her.
He pushed her up to her knees and took her from behind, pulling her hair back until she felt every thrust all the way up to her scalp. He braced her arms against the headboard and whispered about how he wanted to take her like this against the door of the production van. He rolled them to their sides, until they were spooning as they fucked, so he could touch her arms and shoulders, her back and neck, praising her strength even as he made her weak. She was content to follow his lead.
Every kiss, every groan, every whispered word of praise pushed her further from control until she was a shaky, sweaty mess, shuddering beneath his heavy body, reveling in the feel of his thick cock pulsing inside her. His weight pressing her into the bed was the only thing keeping her from floating away. She buried her face in his shoulder and treasured the sensations ricocheting through her.
When he lifted himself from her with a wince, she saw her mascara smeared across his shoulder. Frankie raised a hand to her face and tried to wipe away the damage. Nothing sexier to find in your bed than a smudgy raccoon. She grimaced at that image and tried to wipe the remains of her lipstick from his neck.
Jake put a hand over hers. “Stop. Leave it."
"But—"
He moved his hand to her lips, cutting her off. "You are so beautiful,” he said. "With or without the makeup, you slay me."
The intensity in his eyes scared her, like he could see straight into her soul. She wasn't ready to share that part of her, so she reached for her shield. “I bet you say that to all the girls you fuck blind.” She’d intended to tease him, but the minute she said it horrible images of who those other women must have been danced behind her clenched eyes.
“Nope. Only you, Francesca.” He kissed her closed eyelids.
“Don’t call me that. It makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”
“Maybe you are.” Jake matched her teasing tone and poked a finger into her ribs, tickling her into opening her eyes.
“I can’t quite figure you out.” She ran her fingers through his hair again, and he damn near purred.
“Good,” he grunted.
