Page 46 of A Thirst for Franc

She waved a hand over her shoulder toward the door, her head following, completely avoiding eye contact with me. “It’s really coming down out there. I should head home.”

I made it to the last few steps and grabbed her wrist. Her eyes met mine, the desire that had hooded her lids earlier still evident.

I’d been avoiding moments like this for so long, thinking I wasn’t ready to put my trust in another woman again. But I hadn’t been avoiding anything. I had just been waiting for the right woman to come into my life. Quinn was that woman. I couldn’t let her leave. Couldn’t let the one good thing to come into my life walk out that damn door.

“Stay.” It was a single plea filled with too much desperation.

Her gaze strayed to my hand, her wrist twitching as her muscles flexed. Her bottom lip quivered the slightest bit before she pushed her teeth into it, stopping the tremble.

“I… I can't.”

Her wrist slid from my grasp, her warm skin leaving mine with the cold aftermath of rejection. A flash of red hair was all I could see as she bounded down the porch steps into the pouring rain.

With a sigh, I shut the door, leaning against the custom woodwork, and wondering if the universe just stopped me from making a colossal mistake.

Stupid tears pricked my eyes, but I ignored their attempt to fall. I was already wet enough. I didn’t need to add to the disaster that was my night.

But it wasn’t a disaster. Not at all. The feel of Franc’s lips and hands lingered on me as I drove out of his driveway and off his block.

My god that man could do things with his mouth that should be illegal. I was a fool for leaving, but I was also a fool for letting it start. He was myboss. I needed this job more than anything right now.

I choked back the sudden rush of emotion overpowering my thoughts and tried to focus on the road. The rain fell in angry slanted sheets, pounding the car in a vicious torrent. I should turn around, go to Franc’s, and wait this out, but I couldn’t go back there.

Not when I could still feel his mouth on me. Not when moisture still pooled between my thighs at the erotic things he did with that tongue. Thattongue.

I should have stopped him. Should have walked away when I felt the air shift, but it had been like a magnet, pulling me toward him and refusing to deviate from the path until our bodies were flush.

A pesky tear pushed past my resolve and slid down my cheek. It was bad enough I had to leave my job, my home, because people thought I was a slut. The fact that none of it was true didn’t stop the allegations and hate mail, the glaring eyes that followed me in the store, and the mumbled accusations tossed at me as I walked by.

The memories resurfaced, reminding me of every awful thing said about me.

Now here I was, becoming everything people accused me of. Maybe I was a woman who used her looks to manipulate. Why else would I practically throw myself at my boss, digging my fingers into his shirt and refusing to let him go? If Sally hadn’t interrupted us, he’d be inside me right now. I had no doubt about that. I had wanted him with a fierceness I had never known, and there was nothing, not even my past, that could stop me from getting what I wanted.

Sally did me a favor. She stopped me from making a mistake that would have jeopardized my job. I’d have to stop at the pet store tomorrow and buy her the crickets she liked so much.

The car slid to the right, and my grip on the steering wheel tightened. Water was rising on the street, and I needed to focus on the road, not on what it would have felt like to have Franc push into me with that rock hard—

The steering wheel jerked out of my hand, and the car skidded to the left this time. My heart slammed into my chest as the dark trees grew closer to my bumper. I tightened my hold and brought the car to the lane, letting out a relieved breath.

Rainwater glistened on the road in front of me, the lone streetlight reflecting off the surface. I slowed down, hoping not to suck too much water into the engine, and inched forward. But my speed didn’t matter, not when the rainfall rose around me, submerging the car. The solid feel of the ground beneath vanished, the car bobbed, and the nose dipped forward.

I gave up on the wine and switched to whisky. Somehow, without even trying, I royally fucked up. There might as well had been fire underneath Quinn’s feet.

My cell rang and my heart skipped like I was some juvenile hoping his crush was calling. Any hope I had dissolved at Brady’s name flashing on my screen.

“Yeah?” I barked.

“And it’s good to talk to you, too,” Brady said.

“Sorry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s been a rough night.”

“I assumed with Laurent taking Gio, you’d be cool, calm, and collected. Want to talk about it?”

I let out a sigh, then took another sip of whiskey. “No, I really fucking don’t.”

“Okay.” That was the one thing about Brady. He never pushed. “Want to grab a drink? The weather is shit, but there’s a rainstorm party happening at Don’s.”

Clyde, the owner of Don’s Bistro, would use any excuse to throw a party.

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