Page 37 of Kiss My Glass
“No lingering insecurities?” she says.
“Hell, no,” I reply. “Self-esteem solid as a rock.”
Frankie lifts her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m going to ask this once, and then we will never mention it again. Do you think Chiara is a witch?”
“I think she makes it her business to notice things about other people,” I say. “But I’d love to know how hard she looks at herself. Not that I’ll ever have the courage to ask her that, of course.”
Frankie moves a fraction closer, and my breath catches. I want her so badly, but I have to be patient. I want to tell her how gorgeous she is, how I love her curves, but I know that could have the opposite effect. When I was short, people used to think they were doing me a favor by citing all the famous people who were height-challenged. All it did was highlight that being short was seen as a social disadvantage and I’d need other attributes to compensate. Frankie’s body isn’t something I need to comment on. How it feels to touch her, be close to her, that’s what matters.
“It’s possible I’ll freak out part way through,” she says. “Just so you know.”
“All good,” I say. “We’ve got time. Maybe not for all 157 episodes ofGilmore Girls?—”
“Danny,” says Frankie. “Shut up and kiss me.”
I shut up and kiss her. Slowly and then not slowly at all. We do the clothing fumble, trying to take off each other’s before giving in to practicality and removing our own. Then we’re on the bed, limbs entangled, hands and mouths everywhere, following our mutual lustful instinct. The only part of me I steer her hand away from is my erection. I want this first encounter to be about her pleasure. Mine can wait. Well, it can if she doesn’t get a hold. If she starts giving me a hand-job I will not be answerable for the consequences.
“Will youstopthat?” Frankie protests, after I’ve yet again forestalled her hand. “I want to touchyou.”
“And I very much approve of you touching me,” I say. “But Lil Danny is on a hair trigger right now and I’d like this to last.”
Frankie raises one eyebrow. “Lil Danny?”
“Could be worse. Could call it my joystick. Or my lightsaber. Or?—”
“Stop right now or I’ll do Big Danny an injury.”
“Seriously,” I say. “I promise to give you access at the earliest opportunity, but right now, I think you should relax and let me do this…”
“Ohh…”
Frankie arches her hips as I put my fingers and thumb to good use. She is slick and tight and hot, and the hair on Lil Danny’s trigger is now one of those nanowires measured in atoms. I take her nipple in my mouth and tease it gently, which doesn’t help me one bit, but doessend Frankie right to the edge. I know this partly because I can read the physical signs, but mostly because she’s swearing at me, ordering me to get inside her right now.
The condom is within reach, and I have honed my ability to remove it from the packet and roll it on with one hand (and some careful tooth-tearing action on the foil). Frankie’s breathing is shallow and rapid, and her whole body has tensed up. I stroke my thumb over her sweet spot one last time and, ignoring her furious demands to hurry up, enter her slowly and steadily. I maintain control until I’m right up to the hilt and then it’s all on. Frankie shudders and grabs onto my arms as her orgasm rushes through her, and I drive myself into her hard and fast and shout out loud as I come in perfect gratifying sync.
Now’s my favorite part, the come down, if you’ll pardon the pun. The gradual slowing of heart rates and breath, the tingle of the aftershocks through our nervous systems, the melting of tension as we lie together in a sweaty, mellow tangle. The pleasure of satisfaction achieved. And a tiny hint of smugness on my part.
“You’re smirking,” says Frankie.
“It’s how I smile!” I protest.
“You ignored my requests,” she adds.
Sounds like I’m being cross-examined, which I react badly to.
“I figured you’d want more than a two-minute bang.”
“Bang!Did you seriously just use the word ‘bang’?”
This seems to be going downhill fast. Time to put on the emergency brakes.
I roll over on my side, prop myself up on my elbow. “Frankie. Did you enjoy it? Because I certainly did, and I would like to do it again. Many times.”
Her expression is more amused than annoyed, I’m relieved to see.
“Yes, Danny, I did enjoy it,” she says. “But let’s take turns calling the shots, okay?”
My mind fills with a raft of possible ways that could play out, and it’s enough to stir Lil Danny from his post-sex coma.
