Page 37 of Tempting Frankie
He silences me with a kiss, hard and possessive. When he pulls back, I hear a familiar voice that cuts through the haze of pleasure.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
Shit. I freeze, still perched on Alexander's lap, my dress bunched up. Slowly, I turn my head to see Cameron standing there. His handsome face twisted into a sneer.
“Frankie,” he drawls, green eyes glinting with malice. “Fancy seeing you here. And with my father, no less. How fucking cozy.”
I scramble off Alexander's lap, yanking my dress down. My face burns as I realize how this must look. Lips swollen and probably reeking of sex.
Alexander rises, cool as ever. “Cameron,” he says, his voice clipped. “This is a private dinner. I suggest you leave.”
But Cameron's not backing down. His eyes rake over me, taking in my flushed skin and the way my nipples are still hard against the thin fabric of my dress.
“Private dinner, huh?” he scoffs. “Looks more like you're fucking my sloppy seconds, old man.”
Rage boils up inside me. How dare he? After the way he treated me, the cruel words, the cheating. Before I can stop myself, I'm in his face, jabbing a finger into his chest.
“Listen here, you entitled little prick,” I snarl. “You lost any right to comment on my life when you decided to stick your dick in that bottle bleach blonde bimbo from marketing.”
Cameron's eyes widen in surprise, then narrow dangerously. “Oh please,” he sneers. “Like you're any better. Look at you, Frankie. All dolled up and spreading your legs for my daddy. Tell me, how much is he paying you to be his little whore?”
The slap echoes through the restaurant before I even realize what I've done. Cameron's head snaps to the side, a red handprint blooming on his cheek.
“Fuck you,” I hiss, my voice shaking with fury. “You don't know a goddamn thing about me or him.”
Cameron laughs, the sound bitter and mocking. “Oh, please. I know exactly what this is. Daddy's newest toy, bought and paid for.” He leans in close, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me, Frankie, how much is the old man shelling out for your used goods?”
Before I can react, Alexander is on his feet, his hand gripping Cameron's arm with bruising force. “That's enough,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “You will not speak to Francesca that way.”
Cameron wrenches his arm free, his face flushed with anger and alcohol. “Of course you'd defend her,” he sneers. “She's probably the best pussy you've had in years. But tell me, Dad, does she call you Daddy in bed too?”
“Fuck you, Cameron,” I spit. “You want to know the truth? Your dad fucks me better than you ever could. He makes me scream his name, makes me come so hard I see stars. And yeah, sometimes I do call him Daddy. Because he takes care of me in ways your selfish ass never could.”
Cameron's face contorts with rage. He lunges forward, but Alexander steps between us, his broad shoulders an impenetrable wall.
“That's enough,” Alexander says, his voice like steel. “Cameron, you're drunk. Go home before you embarrass yourself further.”
“Embarrass myself?” Cameron laughs bitterly. “That's rich, coming from you. Parading around with my ex like some trophy wife.”
“I said, that's enough,” Alexander growls, his voice low and dangerous. He turns to me, his eyes softening. “Francesca, wait for me in the car. I need to have a word with my son.”
I hesitate, torn between wanting to stay and defend myself and the desperate need to escape this nightmare. Alexander cups my face gently, his thumb stroking my cheek.
“Go, little one,” he murmurs. “I'll handle this.”
Chapter 14
Alexander
Iwatch Francesca's retreating form, my blood boiling as I turn back to face my son. Cameron's smug face makes me want to throttle him, but I force myself to stay calm. We're still in public, after all.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snarl, keeping my voice low. “You want to act like a petulant child? Fine. But you do it in private, not in the middle of a goddamn five-star restaurant. Did I raise you to be this much of an embarrassment?”
Cameron's nostrils flare, his eyes flashing with hatred. “Oh, I'm the embarrassment? That's rich coming from the old pervert fucking his son's ex.”
I grab him by the collar, yanking him close. “Listen here, you little shit. If you have a problem with me or Francesca, you handle behind closed doors like a fucking man. Not by throwing a tantrum in public like some spoiled brat.”
Cameron tries to shrug me off, but I tighten my grip. His eyes, so like his mother's, are glassy with alcohol and resentment.
