The Promise Page 93

And Ben again did not feel better.

“How does he give you the heebie-jeebies?” he asked, taking his own bite.

She moved to the coffeepot and started filling the cups they’d left there when they went to get donuts, doing this one-handed, the other hand holding her donut in the air, saying, “He’s a dick.”

Ben’s body got tight again.

“A dick, how?”

She looked to him. “How’s a dick a dick? He’s just a dick.”

“He a dick to you?”

“Not directly. He just spreads his dick-ness wide.”

“And so he’s a dick…” Benny trailed off on a prompt.

“I don’t know,” she said, grabbing a mug and bringing it across to him where he stood at the bar that delineated the kitchen from the dining area. She set it on the counter by him and went back to get her own. “The whole thing just gives me a weird feeling. He’s all over this product, as he would be. Pharmaceutical companies dump a shitload into development, so they like the happy place of rolling it out and finally making money on it. I just get…” She shook her head, lifted her cup, took a sip, dropped it, and caught his eyes. “A weird feeling.”

“You have anything to do with development and this dick guy?”

“Not really.”

“Don’t have anything to do with development or this dick guy,” Ben ordered.

Her eyes narrowed and she stated, “I have to work with him, Ben.”

“Right. I get that. But stay away from this. Stay away from talk about this man who was murdered. Put your head down. Do your job. Let whatever happened blow over.”

Her eyes stayed narrowed as she replied, “I kinda was intending to do that already.”

“Take the ‘kinda’ outta that and we’re good.”

“Benny!” she snapped.

“Baby, you and murder and dicks…not a good combination. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. Let it play out not havin’ anything to do with you.”

“It can’t have anything to do with me, Ben. There’re rumors it was a professional hit. Obviously, the guy got into someone for money or pissed someone off he shouldn’t have. I mean, it’s shocking but shit happens. It has nothing to do with me.”

“Keep it that way.”

At that, her brows shot up. “I’m hardly gonna start my own amateur investigation.”

“Good news.”

“Benny!” she snapped, louder this time.

“Cara, this guy got murdered and he worked for your company. My brother was murdered. My woman was shot. You live in Brownsburg. I live in Chicago. Not easy for me to keep an eye on you the way a man should keep an eye on his woman, and I don’t like that normally. When professional hits are carried out on your coworkers, I really don’t like that. Cut me some slack here, yeah?”

She glared at him as she announced, “And this is yet another time you’ve made protectiveness annoying.”

He grinned, lunged, caught her around the back of her neck, and pulled her to him so she slammed into his body.

Luckily, she’d put down her mug.

Also luckily, she tipped her head back to say something smart so he had his target and he aimed.

His tongue sweep encountered donut, coffee, and Frankie. Getting that, even though he’d f**ked her before donuts and coffee, he wanted her again.

On her knees.

First, f**king her face.

After that, taking her pu**y.

So he ordered, “Finish your donut. In the mood to f**k you again.”

Her eyes widened, her body melted into his, but her mouth said, “So annoying.”

“We could spend the day at the pool,” he suggested.

“Annoying.”

He grinned. “You want me to f**k you.”

She glared and snapped, “Annoying!”

His hand tightened on the back of her neck and he dipped his face close to hers. “You want it.”

“Benny, you’re making it impossible to eat my donut,” she shared.

He put his mouth to hers and whispered, “Finish it quick, baby. I want you to drop right here and take my c**k in your mouth.”

Again, her eyes got wide right before her lids went hooded.

Since he talked her through it, there was nothing in bed that fazed his Frankie. She was up for anything with no hang-ups.

Now, all attitude gone, sweet wonder was in its place when she asked, “Are you hard?”

“Oh yeah.”

She slid a hand over his hip and he touched his tongue to her lower lip when she felt for herself.

“I can eat my donut later,” she stated and proved this true, putting it on the counter.

Ben could eat his later too and knew he’d be doing that when Frankie dropped right down to her knees in front of him, opened his fly, pulled him free, didn’t hesitate a second, and took him deep.

Ben’s head fell back at the brilliant feel of the sweet pull when she slid him out and the sweeter glide when she took him back in.

He looked down and watched her work and that didn’t last very long before he slid his fingers into either side of her hair, pulling it back, and then taking over.

She held on to his h*ps as he watched and f**ked her face. He did it slow at first, but after he got her first moan vibrating against his cock, he went faster. Finally, he watched her body start moving with his rhythm, coming up and down on her knees like she was riding him with her pu**y with each stroke, and he knew she was liking this near as much as he was when he saw her hand move toward her panties.

That was when he pulled out, reached down, yanked her up, and pushed her against the kitchen counter, facing it.

“Baby,” she breathed.

He yanked up the skirt of her dress and tore her panties down to her thighs. She spread her legs and tipped her ass.

Fuck, Frankie. Ready. Wanting it. Probably so wet she was drenched.

He drove in.

Totally soaked.

Fuck.

Frankie.

He kept thrusting into her wet, tight pu**y, bending over her to put a hand on the counter and press his chest into her back, face in her neck, smelling and feeling her hair, f**king her cunt, hearing her gasp and whimper, everything that was his world centered on his woman.

She tipped high and pressed up into his chest, her h*ps into his, moaning, “Benny.”

He slid a hand over her belly, down, and found her clit.

“Benny,” she gasped, her body jerking, one hand moving to cover his on the counter and curl over the top of it.

He bent his knees and powered deep.

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