Page 21 of Christmas in Coconut Creek

“I didn’t want to disturb you after you fell asleep. You looked cute as fuck drooling on my pillows.”

“I did not drool on your—” I palmed the cream-colored throw under my head.Fuck, I definitely drooled on it.

He smirked and looked down at his lap. “You know, for a girl who swore up and down last night she’d never put her feet on a dick, you’re looking extremely comfy right now.”

I registered then that my legs were still extended clear across Frankie’s thighs. I’d claimed the couch as my own in the middle of the night under the influence of drunken comfort seeking. To be fair, it could have beenmuchworse—that little dream I just woke up from could have been real.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my feet back under the blankets, but my heel caught something stiff and sensitive tucked into the band of his sweatpants.

“Oof.” Frankie winced through his teeth. “Careful where you’re kicking those.”

My cheeks flamed. “Do you have a fucking hard-on right now!?” I tried not to look, I really did. The sweats did nothing to sway my gaze though. It was difficult enough to know it was there; call it Mission Impossible not to selfishly want to see what he was working with.

He shrugged. “It’s the morning, I don’t control these things.”

“Put it away,” I demanded. “Make it go away.”

“Should I pack it a bag and buy it a plane ticket?”

“Frankie.” I ground my teeth together. I was still nursing a buzz like a parasite from the club and half my body obviously wanted something in, near, or around it enough to send me to beach-fuck dreamland. The respectable half of my brain reminded me that Frankie wasn’t out of the dark yet despite the late-night couch-talk, and if he wanted to be back in my good graces, it would take more than making a dick joke and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants.

“You’re overconfident,” I told him.

“Am I, though?” He tilted his head and watched me like he could see the gears turning inside my head. The tennis match of pros and cons that would come with letting him bend me over the arm of the sofa right then…

“Don’t call me Colorado,” I deflected. “This isn’tZombieland.”

Frankie smirked. “You might change your mind if you looked in a mirror.”

I glared in his direction, well aware of the state I must have been in. I knew what a night out did to the undersides of my eyes—I wasn’t twenty-one anymore. Not to mention Natalia’s makeup wipes were fucking scented, and I could feel the dry layer of skin begging for the expensive serums I had back at her apartment.

“I can’t keep track of names. I just call every woman I seduce into wearing my socks by the state I found her in.”

“So you should be calling me drunk and desperate, obviously,” I said, scoffing.

The corner of Frankie’s mouth lifted. He was pushing willfully at every button I had, trying to wear me down. “I’ve yet to see desperate,” he said with an edge. “I’m looking forward to seeing desperate.”

I choked up a condescending laugh that died on my tongue too quickly. It sounded more like a breathless grunt, further fueling the heat in my cheeks and neck as I found a place that wasn’t Frankie’s eyes or the outline of his dick to focus on.

“Okay then…O.” His grin turned toothy, fueling the tension. “Who were you riding in your dream?”

“No one. I wasnothaving a fucking wet dream.”

“Those little noises you make put Tally’s to shame.”

I dismissed him. “You’re hearing things.”

“Right.” His snide smile dialed up to ten. “So…” He leaned over, the leather of the couch creaking beneath his shoulder in the otherwise quiet room. He ran a soft trail up the inside of my exposed calf with his fingers. “If I touched your pussy right now, would I find out that you’re lying to me?”

It was futile to hide the shock in my face, or the hitch in my breath. I had never met a man so outright unashamed.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Frankie kept his hand on my leg, drawing little circles with his thumb that reignited the thrum I felt elsewhere. “You know, avoidance is akin to admission,” he said. “Women that lied to me used to end up with their sweet little ass over my knee.”

I tilted my head, snorting complaisantly. It seemed like every reaction was lost in the delivery though; he was getting under my skin well and thoroughly. It was irking me even more that he absolutely knew it, too. As if he wasn’t chomping at the bit just as much. If he wanted to make a game out of fucking with me, it was only fair I played defense.

I sat up on my knees, discarding the comforter on the way and dropping onto all fours. Frankie’s eyebrow quirked, his pink tongue peeking out between his parted lips at my new position. I crawled toward him across the short gap and puckered my lips to his ear. This close, I could feel the sharp intake of his breath.

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