A Little Bite of Magic (Little Magic) (8 page)

“I think I can handle that.”

Addison picked up the container of boiled macaroni and started doling it out between the baking dishes. Frankie went behind him and added the beaten eggs and the cheese. He still needed to mix the pesto, but that was just a matter of dumping it into his big industrial food processor. It was only a matter of minutes before the macaroni was baking happily in the huge old oven.

“I want to try a cookie.” Addison reached out and snagged a piece of shortbread from the rack.

“The sauce isn’t ready yet,” Frankie lied. It would be a disaster for Addison to have the giggles while some poor dentist was trying to clean his teeth.

“That’s too bad. It looks fantastic.”

“Yeah?”

Addison nodded. “I like your food. It’s delicious but not too foofy, you know?”

“I try to avoid foofy.” Frankie chuckled. “I’ll save you some sauce for later tonight.”

Addison smiled, sly and sexy.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just said sauce and— Oh, never mind. I’m a pervert.”

Frankie laughed outright at that. “I like it.”

* * * *

“Addie, we’re going to the theater with Bessie and Charles this weekend. Please make sure your tuxedo has been to the cleaners and is pressed.”

Addison sighed. He hadn’t wanted to answer the phone when Julia called. Only the fact that he still needed to end it with her made him answer at all.
I should have called her earlier
. She'd been too busy to call him, and he’d been actively avoiding her because he was a chicken. No more chicken for him.

“Julia, there’s actually something I need to talk to you about.”

Her impatient sigh echoed through the phone. “What is it? I have a pedi appointment in fifteen minutes.”

Addison rolled his eyes. Because she couldn’t talk to him while some woman painted her toenails…

“I don’t think this is working for me anymore, Julia. We want different things.” Well, actually they wanted the same thing. A boyfriend—but she didn't mind if hers was only for appearance. He wanted the real thing.

“Make it work, Addie. We’re not breaking up because you’re having some midlife crisis.”

“I’m thirty-three! And I just broke up with you. It wasn’t a question.”

“No, you didn’t. You said you didn’t ‘think’ this was working for you anymore. I told you it was. Are we done here?”

“Julia, I’m gay. You have to know that.”

He could almost hear her shrug. “That’s fine. Now I have to go. I need to go to my appointment, and you know I don’t like to talk on the phone while I drive.”

The call went dead.

“But, Jules, I’m falling in love with him,” he whispered into the room.

* * * *

Addison bustled around his town house, turning on lamps and lighting candles. He was nervous to have Frankie over. Maybe because so much more was implied with this visit than on the last one—that had been all about sleeping and talking. Addison doubted there would be too much of either going on later. At least not the sleeping part.

Their kisses—hell, their dates—had gotten steamier and steamier. The one a few days before had ended with a kiss that had lasted the better part of an hour. He’d had to drag himself away from Frankie before he molested him on the front porch of his restaurant. Also a new feeling. He’d never been so attracted to another person in his life.

Addison tried to put his pseudo breakup out of his head and concentrate on something good—or rather someone good. Frankie. Addison was headed to pick him up in just twenty minutes. He didn’t want Frankie to leave. He wanted to have Frankie in his bed all night and wake up with him in the morning. He didn’t have to work the next day; he could spend it in the wonderfully scented kitchen at L’Osteria, helping Frankie cook and kissing Frankie, tasting the soft skin of his neck while Frankie stirred some fragrant sauce with his old cooking spoon.

The restaurant had become an extension of Frankie, like part of how Addison saw him. Frankie wasn’t Frankie without his cooking spoon or the kitchen at L’Osteria. Addison didn’t have anything like that to define himself. He wanted to. The Phantom Foodie wasn’t him. Not really. It still made his gut ache when he thought of telling Frankie about that.
I should’ve done it a long time ago
. He figured his hesitation would somehow come back to bite him in the ass.

Addison’s phone rang. Shit. Julia. Again. He’d told her at least four times that he wasn’t going to the damn theater with her. He had no idea she would be so persistent.

“Julia, what do you need?”

“Aren’t you ready?” Impatient as always, her voice rang cultured but still strident through his handset.

“I’m getting ready. For a date. I told you I wasn’t going to the theater.”

“And I told you that I bought the tickets ages ago. This date you have can be postponed.”

Addison cringed. “Jules, do you not care at all that I’m with someone else?”

“I care if you’re with someone else tonight. We had plans.”

He wanted to throw his phone. He would’ve, if he wasn’t worried about it breaking when Frankie might try to call him. “No, I have plans. With my boyfriend. I’m done with this conversation.”

He hung up on her for once. It felt really damn good. It was time to go get Frankie. In more than one way.

* * * *

The second Frankie was in his arms, the phone got turned off. The only person he wanted to talk to had cuddled up to his chest and kissed him hello, no demands, no icy disdain. Just affection—the way it was supposed to be. Frankie had a paper grocery store bag filled with what Addison hoped was dinner (or at least dessert) and a big smile. Addison’s pulse jumped.

“Hey, how was the dentist?”

“Would I be really cheesy if I said I needed someone to make my mouth feel better?”

Frankie chuckled. “Yeah. But I’d go for it anyway.”

And he did, with another long hello kiss that not only made Addison’s mouth feel better but made his entire body shiver as well.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Addison murmured when they broke apart. He cupped Frankie’s face in his hands. Frankie let out a snorting little laugh and playfully pushed his hand away. “What? I can’t give you a compliment. It’s true.”

“C’mon, Romeo. Let’s get in the car.” He tempered his cynical remark with a sweet hand threaded through Addison’s as they walked down the street to where Addison had parked his car.

“What’s in the bag?” Addison asked when they'd pulled away from the curb.

Frankie rolled his eyes and scooted closer. “Lots of drugs.”

“That’s what I thought. I hope they’re good ones.”

Frankie snickered. “You seem different. What happened?”

I’m free
. Addison shrugged. “Just had a good day, I guess.”

“You went to the dentist.”

“I got to see you twice.”

Frankie shoved at him jokingly. “No cheese-ball lines.”

“Isn’t it only a line if I’m trying to pick you up? You’re clearly already in my car. Maybe that means it’s just the truth.”

Frankie’s big liquidy-brown eyes melted. “My day is better when I get to see you too,” he said quietly.

Frankie waited until Addison pulled up in front of his condo before he leaned over to give Frankie another deep, long kiss. “Let’s go inside.”

* * * *

They ate a small dinner of sandwiches and the flaky shortbread with raspberry sauce that he’d been waiting for all day. Addison laughed at Frankie’s antics, harder than he remembered laughing before, and felt wonderfully good. It was always like that when he was with Frankie. He didn’t have to worry that Frankie was going to disapprove of his clothes; probably, just like Addison, he’d rather they be gone anyway. There was no pressure to fit in with some social crowd he didn’t like—there was just laughter and kisses and, well, happiness.

They’d taken the cookies to his bedroom, and for once he didn’t give a damn if crumbs got on the bedspread. The dipping sauce was so good he wanted to take his fingers and lick out the inside of the Tupperware container. He couldn’t stop grinning, even after the cookies were all eaten and his head was in Frankie’s lap. Frankie brushed his bangs off his forehead.

“I don’t want to go home tonight,” Frankie said quietly. He leaned over and kissed Addison on the lips.

“No. Don’t go home. Stay.” Addison reached over and flipped his lamp off. Then he sneaked his hand under Frankie’s shirt and then started pushing it up. It was hard from this angle, but Frankie got the idea. He pulled the shirt the rest of the way over his head and off.

“Your turn,” he whispered.

“Yeah.”

He’d forgotten how good it felt to have his bare skin against another man’s—or perhaps it had
never
felt so good as it did with Frankie. Addison shivered and touched his back, cupped his hands around Frankie's ass, and tugged him closer. There was no such thing as close enough.

"More skin," Frankie muttered. "I want more."

"Yes." Addison couldn't wait to feel all of Frankie. Every inch of his perfect silky body. He'd only gotten hints before of what it could be like. It was time. They pulled at each other’s belts and pants, briefs and socks, until their clothing was all gone and they were wound around each other, naked and kissing. It was perfect. Addison worked his comforter out from beneath them and cocooned him and Frankie in warmth and darkness. Frankie was beautiful, and Addison loved to look, but feeling in the dark, lit only by moonlight, lips colliding slowly, fingers tracing limbs and muscles and straining flesh—it was intoxicating.

“Addie,” Frankie whispered when Addison gripped his cock in his hand and tugged insistently. Addison’s breath caught in his throat when Frankie did the same thing. He nearly shouted aloud when Frankie’s mouth replaced his hand.

“That’s so good,” he murmured. “Feels so good.”

“Touch me,” Frankie ordered when he crawled his way back up Addison’s body. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

Addison did moan out loud at that. Then he scrambled for the drawer by his bed. Hand slick, he reached for Frankie, for the tender skin behind his balls, the tight opening where all good things could happen. Frankie pushed against his fingers and ground a hard cock against his thigh.

"Oh God." Frankie shivered and bit down on Addison's neck. "You feel so—" His words were cut off by a loud groan when Addison sank two slick fingers all the way inside. Goose bumps erupted under Addison's free hand, which was resting on Frankie's arm. It had been a long time, but Addison knew exactly what to look for. And he knew when he found it. Frankie cried out and pressed up against him in a full-body embrace, clasping Addison's head and bringing him close for a long, lusty kiss that finally broke when neither of them could last a second more without breathing. Addison kept teasing him, rubbing and touching, letting him grind up against him but not hard enough to come. Frankie panting in his ear was nearly enough to send Addison over the edge.

“Want you, Addie.” Frankie's voice was frantic. Breathy. Hot as hell.

“Now?” He smiled.

“Mmm-hmm. Now. Inside. I'm gonna come, and I've been waiting forever.”

Addison understood. It felt like he’d been waiting forever too. Maybe it was the wine they’d drunk with their sandwiches, the same from the park weeks before. Maybe it was just time. He dealt with condoms and lube with lust-drunk fingers. His mouth went dry when he saw Frankie prepare himself.

“C’mere.” Frankie pushed him down and crawled over. He seemed to understand that Addison didn't want to be in charge, not this first time. He needed to lie back and bask in Frankie’s movement, drown in the grunts and shivers and lusty whispers. And it felt so good. So good. Hot and tight and amazingly beautiful.

“Slow,” Addison warned. He needed to slow down before it was too late. Too much. Too…

Frankie stopped and grinned breathlessly. He leaned over and kissed Addison slowly, slower than he moved his hips, tongue slipping in all silky and perfectly wet.

“I love…” Addison choked on an inhale when Frankie tightened his muscles and rolled his hips. “Ohhh.”

“You feel so good in me.” Another kiss, a bite on his shoulder, that wicked tongue tasting the shell of his ear.

Addison shuddered and dragged the pads of his fingers down Frankie’s back. “Yes. So good,” he repeated.
So good, so good.

Frankie’s back was damp with sweat, his face was glowing, and he smiled all soft and sweet before he bit his lip and moaned. Addison couldn’t stop looking. He was beautiful.

“Touch me, Addie. I’m going to come.”

“Yes,” Addison moaned and tugged at Frankie’s cock, hot and hard and wet at the tip. Frankie’s foreskin slipped back and forth over steel. It felt perfect. He threw his head back and rode Addison. It was slow and languid but more intense than anything Addison had ever experienced. Deep. Enthralling. Like time stood still.

“Oh fuck, Addie. Now.”

Addison squeezed, and the warmth of Frankie’s release pulsed through his hand and onto his abdomen. Frankie cried out, and his inner muscles clenched down hard. Addison lost it in that moment with a choked scream and a full-body shudder. Frankie collapsed onto Addison's chest, breathless and limp.

“Jesus,” Addison whispered as he came down from his high.

Frankie chuckled tiredly. “I know.”

They separated momentarily but came back together after only seconds, damp sweaty skin sticking in the most delicious way.

“That was amazing, babe,” Frankie whispered.

Babe. Addison liked it. The word felt official. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across Frankie’s cheekbone. “This feels good too, just lying here with you.”

“It does. We might have to get up and take a shower in a minute. If we don’t, we’ll wake up stuck together.”

Addison smiled. “I can think of worse things. Can’t you?”

“Yeah.” His answer was paired with a squeeze and a kiss to Addison’s damp chest. “Don’t wanna move.”

“Me neither. We’ll shower in a little bit, okay?”

“Yeah. A little bit.”

* * * *

Frankie was in the middle of stirring up a vinaigrette for his spinach salad with strawberries and almonds. Addison sat across from him on a stool, painstakingly slicing strawberries to go in the salad. Frankie couldn’t stop grinning. Last night, twice that morning…