That One Day (That One #1.5) (25 page)

I’m lying on my bed, music on in the background. It’s evening and I’m relaxing after a day full of Christmas festivities. It was a complete success—from the food, to the gifts, and especially the people.

Frankie loved the pendant. She was a sobbing, blubbering mess, and I fucking adored it. It made me proud to cause happy tears for once.

Her gifts had a similar effect on me. Well, without the sobbing and blubbering, but if someone would have looked closer, they would have seen me getting choked up. I look at the frame on my dresser with a picture of Archer and me and the words
Bestest Daddy In The World
written on the frame. Frankie isn’t one to say something she doesn’t mean, so her giving me this gift means a hell of a lot. I might have fucked up before, but at least now I’m doing something right.

She also got me a cool leather tool belt engraved with a wolf.

I grin, thinking of all the posters and tacky shirts I used to own with wolves on them. And how I annoyed the hell out of my mom to get me a wolf as a pet.

The thought of my mom makes me sober up. I hate the fact that I still miss her, but especially now on Christmas, I can’t deny that I do. Determined not to let it spoil the good mood and this awesome day, I force myself to ignore it.

Just like I don’t let the phone call I just finished with my dad ruin my mood. Thankfully, it was short as the patients were about to sing Christmas carols and then watch
It’s A Wonderful Life.
Dad was emotional, reminiscing about our time together when I was a baby, but getting sidetracked all the time and letting his anger at my mom loose. Not really the kind of Christmas conversation you want to have.

Pushing all those thoughts to the back of my mind, I close my eyes and relax to the music. I only open my eyes when I hear someone walk through the door.

Frankie takes slow steps toward me.

“I have another present for you,” she says, an envelope in her hand.

My knee-jerk reaction is to make a stupid joke, ask her if it’s a restraining order. But I think better of it.

She hands me the envelope, nervously biting her lip, her eyes watching me expectantly. I open the envelope, pulling out some papers. They look like legal documents, lots of info and small print.

“What is that?” I attempt to make sense of it, but all I see is a bunch of legal terms.

“If you sign those papers your name will be added to the birth certificate as Archer’s father and his last name will be changed to yours.”

Fuck, I didn’t expect this. I blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. I can’t believe Frankie would do this for me and Archer. If there ever was a selfless act, this is it. Not many women would do this—not after what I’ve done.

I lean over, putting the papers on the nightstand and take ahold of her arm, pulling her toward me, hugging her close.

“Frankie.”

I don’t know what else to say. I’m fucking speechless, my throat clogged with emotion. She’s making it official, for the entire world to see—Archer is my son. She trusts me, trusts me enough to make me a permanent fixture in their lives, to give Archer my name. All other gifts pale in comparison.

Instead of trying to express what this means to me with words, I hold her close. I breathe her in, feel her heartbeat against my chest, and her breath tickling my neck.

“I Need You” by Mass Undergoe starts to play, slow and sensual. As if on cue, she lifts herself up and starts kissing her way toward my lips. My heart rate accelerates, my hands grabbing her tighter. “Fuck, Frankie.”

It’s all the words I can form while trying to hold on to my control. If she still wants to take it slow, she’d better stop now.

But she has different things on her mind, judging by her sexy grin. “My thoughts, exactly.”

I don’t care if this is a Christmas miracle or not, there’s no way I’m letting this moment slip through my fingers.

I pull her closer, one hand on the back of her neck, the other roaming down her body until I reach my destination—her ass—while not breaking our kiss. She whimpers and mewls. These are the sounds I’ve been dreaming about for months.

I need to taste her, to feel every inch of her body, but first, I need her naked.

Sitting up, I remove her shirt, the sight of her in her red, lacy bra spurring me on. I kiss her, tangling my tongue with hers, fusing our mouths together. She gives as much as she takes, her kisses just as passionate, just as untamed as mine. I nibble her lip then stroke my tongue over it before thrusting back into her mouth. My cock is hard and throbbing, ready to feel her. All of her.

She rubs herself against my hard-on, her heat searing me through all our layers of clothing. She loses herself in the moment—her hands gripping my hair, pulling me closer.

Still not breaking the kiss, I move my hand to her back, unhooking her bra and sliding it down her arms. I want more of her skin, her warm body, and I’m not disappointed. Her breasts are a fucking revelation. I could devote hours just to them…kissing, nibbling, groping.

I squeeze one softly, covering it with gentle kisses before I turn my attention to the other one. Frankie’s movements become frenzied as she’s rocking her core against my cock, her breasts jiggling with the movement. I feel hypnotized by the motion until I hear her moan. That’s all it takes to snap me out of my haze. I growl against her chest, licking between her breasts. The taste of her skin is tantalizing; so much better than I remembered.

We’re consumed by passion, nothing else in the room registers other than her. The house could be on fire and I’m not sure I would notice.

Pleasure and pain course through my body when she runs her fingernails down my back; the tracks she leaves behind burning slightly. My cock jumps at the sensation, straining against the zipper of my jeans.

I flip Frankie onto her back, and after gently brushing my lips against hers I kiss my way down her body, pausing when I get to the waistband of her jeans. I look up at her and revel in the sight before me. Her face is flushed, her pupils dilated, and she’s breathing heavily.

“God, Ben, I need you.”

Not that I need any encouragement, but the lust and desire in her voice make me move with urgency as I shed the rest of my clothing and then fully undress her. She’s lying before me, every inch of her on display, and it’s fucking gorgeous. I tease her, kissing around her belly button and down. Her knees fall to the sides in response, the invitation loud and clear. I take my time, relishing in each moan she expels, every attempt of her to get closer to my mouth, to get more.

I move down, spreading her legs farther and my mouth closes over her clit. Slowly and softly, I circle it with my tongue, giving her body some time to adjust to the sensation, but she seems to be ready for whatever I have in store for her. Her hips lift and push her core against me. Her scent and taste are like a damn drug, and I want more. My right hand is splayed across her stomach, holding her in place, while I run my tongue all the way down her pussy and back up to her clit. Her back rises off the bed, but there is nowhere for her to go. I’m not done with her yet. Not by a long stretch.

I get lost in the moment, my desire for her dictating my moves as I lick and suck, reveling in the effect it has on her. She’s panting, swearing, and thrashing. My cock is so hard I’m worried I’m going to come just from licking her pussy.

“You taste so sweet, babe.”

She moans in reply, her whole body humming with anticipation. She’s wet, slick with her own arousal, and there is no resistance as I plunge my fingers into her. Not waiting for her to adjust, knowing she’s ready for me, I thrust them in and out. I lick and kiss her inner thigh before bringing my lips back over her clit.

She rocks her hips faster against me, her rhythm faltering, and I feel her walls squeeze my fingers. This is not how I want her to come, not the first time we’re back together. I want to be inside of her. I want my cock filling her when she tumbles over the edge.

I draw my fingers out, ignoring her protests and the glare she shoots me.

“Jesus, Ben. I’m so fucking close.” She’s out of breath, the words coming out between pants and moans and it’s a fucking heady feeling knowing this is my doing.

Grabbing a condom out of my nightstand and rolling it on, I thank God I was cocky enough to think I might eventually get to this point and am prepared.

I grin at her. “I want you to come with me inside of you.”

She watches me, her eyes never wavering as I take ahold of her hands and slide them up above her head, while lowering my body on top of her. I don’t let go, but intertwine our fingers and hold her down. She lets me take control, her hips rocking against me, while she waits for my next move.

I kiss her hard, our lips meeting in a frenzy as I thrust my tongue in and out of her mouth. I love how loud and vocal she is, her moans reverberating through the room.

I adjust my position slightly and then in one move I bury myself in her, her heat welcoming my cock.

“Fuck, Ben. Oh, God.” She closes her eyes and I don’t move. I want her to see, to feel, everything we’re about to share. I want both of us to remember every touch, every moan—all of it. We’ve waited too long for it. This time there is no drama, no despair, and not half a bottle of whiskey in my system.

Her eyes open, her lids heavy with desire as she fights to focus on me, to not let her eyes roll back into her head. I move slowly in and out, the drag and pull of our bodies making my breath falter.

We move in sync, feeding off each other’s energy. As amazing as this slow pace feels, I’m too turned on to keep this up. My hips rock faster, each thrust a little harder than the one before. I watch her bite her lip, my name a ragged moan on her lips, while her eyes stay focused on me. Her inner muscles squeeze my cock tighter, holding on to it as she finds her release; her body writhing and convulsing. Her fingers squeeze my own while the clenching of her pussy pulls me in deeper, holding me there, fueling my own desire.

I can’t hold back. I want to come undone in her. Her hips lift, meeting my thrusts.

“Fuck, I’m so close, Frankie,” I grind out, my body tense as I plunge into her.

She squeezes my cock once, twice. “Oh God, Ben. I’m going to come again.”

Fuck, this is perfect. I want her to come with me. I want us both to fall. My movements become frantic and wild, all semblance of control gone.

“Yeah, Frankie. Come for me.” And she does, crying out my name, taking me over the edge with her. I shudder, growling her name as her pussy milks my cock. Now it’s me fighting to keep my eyes open, the force of my orgasm short-circuiting my brain.

I concentrate on breathing while my body is coming down from the high. She’s running her hands over my back, making me shudder again and my cock twitches inside of her.

Lifting myself up, I look at her smiling face, blushing slightly under my intense gaze. I look at the woman underneath me. The woman who has seen me at my worst and is still willing to give herself to me. After everything, she trusts me, loves me. I can feel it with every cell of my body, and it’s time for her to know I love her, too.

I gently caress her cheek. “I love you, Frankie.”

She’s quiet for a brief second before her eyes go wide and her lower lip starts to tremble. What the hell? Did I say something wrong? Didn’t she want me to say it? It gets even worse when she laughs then sobs. Could I have been so fucking wrong in my assumption?

Noticing my confusion, she smiles at me. “I love you too, Ben. Always have.”

Throughout the time we were apart, I was hoping I’d hear her say those words again. Hearing them now puts pieces of me together I didn’t even know were broken.

I kiss her gently before I pull out of her—wishing I could have stayed connected to her all night long.

Half an hour later, she’s passed out, sleeping in my arms. She looks peaceful and content, a soft expression on her face. My head is propped up on my elbow while I watch her sleep. Tomorrow, we’re moving my stuff into her room, and I’ll start to work on this room, turning it into Archer’s little cave.

Frankie sighs in her sleep, snuggling her body closer to mine, but doesn’t wake up. Our hands are linked and pressed against her chest. I pull her a bit closer.

Though my body feels exhausted, my mind is racing with a million thoughts. For once, they aren’t frantic, or disturbing, or worried. Instead, they’re memories mixed with the many possibilities ahead of us.

I was over at Dave’s place and we were sitting in the living room, eating the burgers we picked up in town.

“Thank fuck my parents aren’t home,” he mumbled with his mouth full. “Frankie has been arguing with them for days about her birthday.”

“What is there to fight about?” I asked before taking another bite. Frankie was turning sixteen in three months, but I didn't see any ground for a fight in that, not even when it came to Frankie and her parents.

“They want to throw her a sweet sixteen party with all the typical bullshit. She isn’t having any of it. She wants to hang out with her friends at the river and have a bonfire instead.”

“Well, it’s her birthday. She can do whatever the fuck she wants,” I said, once again having a hard time understanding what her parents’ issues were.