AUTHOR'S NOTE: So how y'all feelin' 'bout things?
TWITTER: @styles_orama
*****
And as I take the love you're giving
I can feel the tension building in your mind
And you're wondering if tomorrow
I'll still love you like I'm loving you tonight
You have no way of knowing
Tonight will only make me love you more
And I hope that you'll believe me
'Cause I know you've never been this far before
—Conway Twitty
*****
FRANKIE:
Grabbing me by the shoulders, Harry's excited eyes bore into mine. "That was my book, Frankie. That kid was me."
"Shut up, Harry. That's not very nice to make fun of somethin' that meant so much to me in a time where I had nothin'. I still have it. It has his initials in it —"
"I know, cause I wrote 'em, Frankie."
Then, at the same time,
"H.E.S."
*****
HARRY:
I knew there was some reason why the image of Frankie as a youngun' kept poppin' into my head - cause I'd seen those heartbroken creekwater eyes years ago, and when she mentioned my reader, the memories fell into place. Memories of the occasional wagon rides to town for supplies with one or both of my folks, and the frustrated little girl on the porch of the Hullabaloo. No wonder I was sweet on her from practically that first meetin' at the train station . . . 'cause deep down somewhere, it was as if we'd already met.
There's a splash of brightness in her eyes for only a second before they turn cloudy once again.
"Frankie?"
"Your mama used to drag you away so fast, Harry. She never woulda wanted you to marry someone like me." She brings her hands to her face, and as soon as she swipes her tears away, they're replaced with new ones.
"Look here." I catch her hands in mine and pull her eye to eye. "Mama was pullin' me away 'cause she didn't want her little boy to know what kinda behavior was goin' on inside the Hullabaloo. Now, Mama's dead and I'm grown — besides, she didn't know you weren't involved in any of that mess. And even if you were, mama was always a believer in second chances. She had a knack for seein' the good in people. She'd a liked you, Frankie. I know she woulda." Now it's my to turn to sniffle as I start missin' my mama somethin' fierce.
Scoochin' up on her tiptoes, Frankie kisses my wet eyelashes, almost makin' me laugh.
"See how good we fit, Frankie? I wipe your tears, then you wipe mine."
I sniffle once more, and Frankie's lips cover mine in a tender kiss. I think this may be the first time she's actually kissed me first, and that makes me feel
pret-ty swell, especially when the kiss starts gettin' a little more advanced-like as she catches my lower lip in between hers. But first things first. Cuppin' Frankie's face in my hands, her eyebrows wrinkle in confusion as I pull away from her kiss.
"I just wanna make sure everythin's fixed up now? I mean, there aren't any other issues to keep ya from marryin' me, 'cause I wanna get this deal locked down pretty quick here." I grin at her.
"Locked down pretty quick, huh?" She almost laughs. "Just what exactly are you meanin'?"
"I mean that I don't wanna be waitin' around for a spring weddin' or any of that mess. The sooner we do it, the less shit can go wrong to mess it up. Seein' as Thanksgivin's not far off, I vote for a December weddin' so we can start squeezin' out a few pups."
She's laughin' til I get to the "squeeze out a few pups" part, which is when her eyes fly wide open and her mouth flies even wider. "Squeezin' out a few pups?" Her voice is way higher than regular.
"You don't wanna have a houseful of younguns? A passel of pups? With me?" I tickle her and she swats at me.
I practically skip over to the mattress on the floor, turn down the covers, holdin' 'em back with a grin. I wait for her to get in, but she just shakes her head and laughs.
"Harry Styles! If that's not puttin' the cart before the horse, then I don't know what is. I swear, you are so ornery sometimes." Her face and neck blush a right beautiful shade of rose in the lamplight, makin' it so I can barely see her freckles.
"Oh God, no. I, uh — I didn't mean it like that. I mean, not now." My laugh is loud in the closed-up space as I grab her up like a sack of flour and toss her onto the overstuffed mattress. "Now I'm just talkin' 'bout sleepin' and some cuddles."
Frankie is quick to pull the covers up to her neck as I'm crawlin' up the mattress in her direction. I wiggle myself under the blankets and cozy up to Frankie on my side, proppin' my head up on my elbow to get a good look at her.
"What?" She asks, starin' at the ceilin', holdin' in a giggle.
I run my pointer finger down the bridge of her nose, then skip to her chin, turning her face to me.
"Yes." She states, matter-of-factly.
"Yes, what?" My fingertips cross her cheek softly and there's a slight dip in the mattress as Duke hops up and lays near my feet.
"I'll marry you, Harry." She smiles. "In case my answer wasn't clear earlier. I'll —"
My mouth is on hers before she can finish acceptin' my proposal. She gasps in surprise, her lips part on instinct and my gentle tongue reacts quicker than it does to candied pecans. Her muffled laugh turns into a whimper and my cock responds with an all-too-familiar needy ache. I imagine what it'll be like one day in the not-too-far-off future when I finally get the honor of pushin' into her delicate softness. Just thinkin' 'bout it . . .
"Harry . . . Harry?" Frankie's hands on my cheeks turn my face up so our eyes meet. "Are you alright?"
A bit dazed, I shake my head much like a wet dog would to dry off. I realize I'm on top of Frankie, nestled between her thighs with a boner bigger than a prized hog at the county fair. I'd been rubbin' my privates up against hers hard 'nough to start a fire; thank God we weren't nekkid. Mortified, I scramble offa her as fast as I can and take a tumble onto the basement floor in the process.
"God, Frankie. I'm so . . . I dunno — it's like my thoughts got carried away and took me with 'em . . ."
"It's okay," her voice is sympathetic as she rubs her neck. "I thought you were gettin' a little aggressive there. Get back in bed, Harry." She pulls my side of the blanket back with a giggle.
I drag my sorry ass back in bed and Frankie returns to my arms, none worse for the wear. I'm mutterin' apologies as I push some golden curls away from her cheek. Frankie coos to settle me, and it's then I notice the mark on her neck she musta been rubbin' at a minute ago.
"What on earth?" I explore with a feathered touch and Frankie's cheeks blush a warm pink. Oh, God. "Did I do that? Frankie?"
She's confused only a moment, then realizes, "Harry - oh no, hon . . . I mean, you did get a little, um . . . wild I guess, but it's okay. It's o-kay." She repeats it again, slower, strokin' my cheek.
"No, it's not okay, Frankie —"
"Harry Styles, you listen and you listen good. If you ever do anything that's not okay by me, I will let you know it immediately. Did it ever cross your mind that I let it continue 'cause I liked it? You're not the only one here capable of getting carried away, Mister."
What? She wants me just like I want her? I thought it was always men doing the wantin' and women doin' the turnin' down. A big grin spreads across my face.
"You want me, too? Frankie?"
She blushes every color of pink and red I'm aware of and prob'ly even some that I'm not, and she hurries to hide her face in my neck.
"Say it, Frankie. Tell me you do. Tell me you want me." My voice quivers unexpectedly, causin' Frankie's eyes to promptly return to mine, which are filled with need.
"I do, Harry." She pauses, then pushes herself up against my manhood, almost given' me a heart attack in the process.
"Frankie . . . we can't—"
"I don't mean that, it's just . . ." Flustered, she fumbles for words. "It's just that you've done things to make me feel good. A buncha times. And I—"
"Frankie. Anything we do makes me feel good. You feel good, I feel good. Just countin' your freckles makes me feel good. I don't even have to be touchin' ya at all," I chuckle.
She pouts.
"C'mere." I pull her in for a tight cuddle. Jesus Christ, this boner is never goin' down. 'Specially with all this canoodlin'. She feels it. I know she feels it. She has to.
She looks up at me with big eyes about to lose some of their innocence. Godammit. Why am I hesitatin'? We could die in this storm tonight, and I'd have never known the softness of her hand.
While I'm spendin' entirely too much time hemmin' and hawin' over what to do, in the blink of an eye I'm aware of Frankie's innocence flippin' to curiosity and determination when I feel her fingers fiddle with the drawstring on my long johns.
Somethin' akin to butterflies starts zippin' 'round in my gut and I briefly imagine the plague of the locusts from the Bible, but when Frankie's fingertips trail against the soft flesh 'neath my bellybutton, I know my protestin' days are over.
I feel her eyes watchin' my responses, but I don't have it in me to meet her gaze just yet. My eyes are squinched tight 'til her hand slips 'neath the fabric of my underwears and she idly twirls some of my down there hair between shy but nimble fingers, causin' a groan to fall my lips and my eyes to fly open soon afterward.
She's watchin' me with a nervous smile. So beautiful. "Frankie . . . you don't have to —"
I'm silenced by her eager lips on mine as she drags the pads of her fingertips up the shaft of my cock towards the tip. My mouth dominates hers, she moans, and it's all too much. I'm too close to stop it.
"Frankie," I murmur into her mouth as I bring my right hand to the front of my longjohns, coverin' her hand with mine and usin' them both to get a couple tugs out of my near empty but thankful dick.