Page 1 of Tempting Frankie
Chapter 1
Alexander
My Brioni suit feels like a straitjacket as I scan the sea of sycophants vying for my attention. I should have canceled instead of worrying about what my lack of an appearance would have made.
My eyes lazily study the glittering crowd, full of fake smiles and designer labels.
Vapid and boring is the status quo at these events. My gaze catches on a short, stacked brunette weaving through the crowd. Wait a fucking second, I do a double take.
Is that…Francesca?
My eyes lock onto that luscious ass as she bends over to set down a tray of champagne flutes. Those curves could make a saint sin, and I’m no saint. My cock twitches, ready at my command to perform just from the sight of her.
Those tight black pants leave little to the imagination, and mine is certainly running wild. I’d recognize those hips anywhere.
I take a long sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as I watch her weave through the crowd. She’s a fucking vision even in the catering uniform, her breasts straining against the buttons. Iwant to rip it off her with my teeth, buttons flying, and bury my face between each mound.
I watch her straighten up, tossing that mane of dark curls over her shoulder. Christ, she’s even more stunning than I remember. Those full lips, those bedroom eyes.
What the hell is she doing here? Last I heard that dipshit son of mine had tossed her aside like yesterday’s news. Fucking idiot. If she was mine...
I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. She’s Cameron’s ex. Off limits. Forbidden fucking fruit.
But I can’t tear my eyes away as she laughs at some decrepit old bastard’s joke, her entire face lighting up.
I adjust myself discreetly, fighting the urge to march over there and lay her on the nearest table. To run my hands over every curve. To make her scream my name while I fuck her senseless.
She’s like a lioness among hyenas now—powerful, graceful, alert. Nothing like the girl my son used to bring around. This Francesca exudes raw sexuality and quiet strength. And I want to possess every inch of her.
I can’t fucking tear my eyes away as Francesca glides through the crowd. Her hips sway hypnotically with each step, and I find myself mesmerized by the gentle bounce of her chest.
Some pompous asshole in an ill-fitting tux snaps his fingers at her, and I tense, ready to go put the idiot in his place. But looks like she’s got this. She saunters over, a predatory gleam in those big brown eyes.
“I’m afraid snapping isn’t the most effective way to get my attention, sir,” she purrs, voice dripping honey-sweet venom. “Perhaps try using your words next time? How may I help you?”
The fucker leers at her cleavage. “Yeah, sweet cheeks. How about you bring me a proper drink? This champagne is piss.”
I clench my fist around my tumbler, resisting the urge to introduce it to his face. But she doesn’t miss a beat.
“Of course, sir,” she says, batting those long lashes. “I’ll be sure to bring you our finest piss. Clearly, you’re a connoisseur.”
I nearly choke on my drink, barely containing a bark of laughter. That’s my girl. The asshole sputters, face turning an ugly shade of puce, but Francesca’s already sashaying away, triumph set in her shoulders.
Such language deserves a spanking. To feel her squirm and whimper as I rain down blows, her cunt dripping for me.
But as she turns, I catch a glimpse of fatigue in those captivating eyes. Her smile falters for just a moment, shoulders slumping infinitesimally. How long has she been on her feet? How many pricks like that has she dealt with tonight?
Dark circles lay under those gorgeous eyes, expertly hidden with makeup. She’s running on fumes, and she shouldn’t be.
Everything in me wants to march over there and whisk her away. To pamper her, worship every inch of her. To make her feel like the queen she is.
Instead, I watch as she straightens her spine, pasting on that dazzling smile once more. She’s a fighter and clearly resilient as hell.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me want her even more.
One glimpse of her and I’m ready to risk it all. To hell with propriety. To hell with the fact that she’s my son’s ex. I want her. And Alexander Steele always gets what he wants.
I down the rest of my drink, relishing the heat traveling down my throat. Time to say hello.
