Page 88 of Puck Your Friend

He kisses my ass cheek. “You okay, Frankie? Did I cross a line?”

I shake my head as I find the strength to push myself to sit on my knees. “No, that was fantastic. I think you unlocked a new kink for me.”

A smirk pulls at his lips. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Jace crouches to wipe me gently with some paper towels that were left on the counter. He and Logan help me stand on my knees so he can clean me up. Then he wipes up my juices from the floor.

They all help me get dressed. “You guys didn’t finish, not fully.” My voice comes out hoarse.

Wes presses a kiss to the top of my head. “We will. Tonight.”

Jace tucks my ruined underwear into his pocket with a smirk. “This was for you.”

Ford grabs the keepsake bin from next to the door. “We should probably get going.”

Logan checks the time. “We have forty-five minutes to get back to the house, but that was worth it.”

My legs find their footing again as I follow them out of the apartment and lock the door behind us for the last time.

Chapter 17

Iswipe my card and push the door open. Frankie steps through without hesitation. Her boots thud on the stone floor. Her navy dress moves as she walks, hem fluttering above her knees. Gold earrings glint at her ears. She’s pulled her curls half-up, pinned with a mother-of-pearl clip I haven’t seen before.

My hand comes up to rest at the small of her back.

The rooftop spreads wide. Flat cobblestone makes up the floor. String lights stretch between steel beams overhead, casting everything in a soft amber glow. The edges are framed with built-in planters. Lavender and lemongrass spill out of them and fill the air with their calming, sweet aromatics.

In the center stands a round table with black iron chairs pulled close. The tabletop is smooth gray stone. Two place settings wait. Between the settings, a pair of thick glass candleholdersflicker. A decanter sits between them, and the crystal catches the candlelight.

A pergola covered in ivy stands in the far corner where the hot tub sits, half-shadowed under the beams. Steam rises from the surface. It’s the main perk of why I picked this place.

Frankie turns in a slow circle as she takes it all in. Her brown eyes sparkle in the light, and for a moment, I can see the girl I fell in love with at camp, who had wonder and passion in her eyes. She’s slowly getting that back, even if she doesn’t see it.

It’s been a little over two weeks since she stopped the illegal suppressants and switched to a low-dose protocol to keep her system from crashing. Her libido has stayed spiked. She’s been running hot, she’s stuck in a slow heat. We’ve been taking it one day at a time, giving her what she needs. We’re not exactly struggling with it.

Her HR meeting got delayed. One of their people’s on vacation, so she’s stuck waiting. Not cleared to go back in. She and Doug have kept editing what they can, but the limbo’s wearing on her. We thought a week of solo dates might help. Give her something real to focus on. Give us time with her, just one at a time.

She turns to me, brows lifted. “You rented the whole rooftop?”

I grin. “For the night. No staff or cameras around for the next four hours. Plus, it only opens for my card.”I step closer, my mouth brushing her ear. “No one can see us with how the plants and ivy block everything from the taller buildings seeing us.”

She inhales with anticipation.

I step around and pull out her chair. She smoothes down her dress as she sits and reaches for the napkin folded into thirds and held with some woven together rosemary. She takes it off and smells it. “I just love rosemary.”

A grin pulls at my lips. “I know. I tried to find a place with all the scents you said you liked when we were kids.”

Her brows shoot up. “You remembered me saying that stuff?”

I shrug. “I have a knack for that kind of thing.”

Taking my seat, I pour her a glass of red wine that I had the staff downstairs decant an hour ago. She accepts the glass and brings it to her nose, inhales slowly. Swirls it once. The liquid catches the candlelight. She takes a careful sip, eyes narrowing in thought, then gives a small nod.

Frankie shifts forward and lifts the corner of one dome, peeking underneath. “Looks good.”

I lift the domes one by one. The scent escapes in slow waves. Char-grilled sea bass with lemon and caper. Roasted fingerling potatoes in rosemary and garlic. A summer salad with goat cheese, candied walnuts, and blackberries. To the side, a small basket of toasted flatbread with crispy edges.

I motion to the building with my head. “It’s the restaurant downstairs. They prep everything. I just booked the rooftop.”

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