Mack Daddy(44)

She could hardly walk. I had no clue that she really couldn’t handle her alcohol. We’d each drank about the same, but clearly my threshold was a lot higher. I felt guilty for not taking better care of her.

“Why were you letting that guy rub himself on you like that?”

“My back was turned. I thought he was you.”

Well, shit. I didn’t know if that made me happy or sick.

Frankie was practically tripping over her own feet. We didn’t live far from the club, so I opted to just walk back to the apartment. We’d be able to get home faster than a cab would arrive anyway.

Since her legs were so wobbly, I decided to carry her home. Her arms were wrapped around my neck and as we made our way toward Kenmore Square. It must have rained while we were in the club because cars that were driving into puddles splashed us from time to time.

Frankie was quiet for a while during our walk until she suddenly spoke. “Don’t come back.”

“What?”

“I can’t live with you anymore.”

“Why are you saying that?”

Trashed or not, her bluntness shocked me.

“It hurts,” she said.

“What hurts?”

“Knowing that I can’t ever have you. You’ll never break up with her. You’re just biding your time here.”

She may have been drunk as a fucking skunk, but I knew that the words pouring out of her were the absolute truth.

She looked up at me. Her eyelids were heavy. “God, if you didn’t have a girlfriend right now, I’d…” She hesitated.

I needed to know what she was going to say. I needed more from inebriated Frankie.

“You’d what?” I prodded.

“Never mind.”

The rest of the walk was quiet. My arms were killing me by the time we got back to the apartment.

When I put her down, she lost her balance, so I led her over to the couch.

We sat down, and Frankie ended up laying her head in my lap. The room was spinning a bit, but I was nowhere near as drunk as she was.

Carelessly running my fingers through her hair repeatedly, I bent my head back and stared at the ceiling. A part of me wished she’d just fall asleep while a bigger part of me wanted her to talk to me, to finish her sentence from earlier, to tell me what she would do if I didn’t have a girlfriend. I looked down and could see her eyes were wide open.

“Are you okay, Frankie Jane?”

It was barely a whisper. “No.”

She looked like she was about to cry. I nudged her up, mainly to get her face away from my dick. Moving her was a mistake because somehow she ended up straddling me. I looked up into her beautiful blue eyes and wondered what the fuck I was doing trying to deny my feelings. Her black mascara was smudged. Her hair was disheveled and yet, she was still the most beautiful girl in the world. I really wanted to know what she was thinking.

“Tell me everything that’s on your mind,” I said.

“I’m drunk. I can’t be trusted.”

“That makes two of us. We won’t remember anything tomorrow. Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking. No one will ever know.”

She leaned her forehead against mine, and it felt so good to feel her breath over my mouth as she panted. I wanted to kiss her more than I’d ever wanted to kiss anyone, but I still managed to hold back. My cock swelled beneath her. She might have been too drunk to notice.

“I want you, and it hurts so bad,” she finally whispered.

This was killing me. Hearing her say that she wanted me caused my control to break.

“I want to fucking devour you right now, Frankie.”

Her breathing became labored. “Do it.” She laughed a little then said, “No, don’t. I’m so drunk. I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

I groaned through my teeth. “I want to. Believe me.”

I knew I wasn’t going to let things go beyond this talking, but I wanted to hear her say it. The dirty, fucking bastard in me just couldn’t help myself.

“If there were no consequences, tell me what you wish I could do to you,” I asked.

She rested her face on the base of my neck and said nothing. I was expecting her to fall asleep until she said, “I wish that you could fuck me so hard that I’d feel you for days afterward.”

Holy shit.

My cock was throbbing now. Aching.

Fisting her hair, I pulled her head back to look at her. “I would love to fuck you right now.”

Even though I’d been encouraging her to tell me what she wanted, hearing those words come out of my own mouth was a reality check in the midst of a drunken fog. I wanted her, but it wasn’t going to happen like this.

Needing relief like a motherfucker, I suddenly moved myself from under her, repositioning her to the corner of the couch.