STARFISH | Part Two

Summary: Star may be feeling embarrassed by her fall, but everyone else is impressed with her heroics. Frankie can’t deny how he feels now, and a few tense moments bring them together.

Warnings: Mentions of wound/cleaning/bandaging. Animal rescue mentioned. Language. Fluff. SMUT. 18+ only.

A/N: Oh hi! Sorry about my very long and unexpected hiatus. Please forgive me, and here is what you’ve been waiting for. I hope you enjoy!

When your door opens after only being alone for about twenty minutes from fleeing the beach, you don’t bother to look up, knowing it’s Little. She’s the only person you knew who never bothered to knock on a door–a habit she’d had since your days in school together. The familiarity of it made you smile internally, but outwardly you gave a low groan and brought the pillow you were clutching to your chest to rest over your face.

“Oh, Star, it’s not that bad,” Little says steadily, and the bed shifts as she climbs on next to you and rips the pillow away. Her face is inches away, that dazzling smile far to shit-eating to be comforting. “Seriously, you looked badass–it was like a movie!”

“Little, I will punch you,” You deadpan, shooting her a glare, “And not the fake movie kind of punch.”

She merely snorts, rolling her eyes before propping a hand against her cheek, “So you don’t want to hear about how Frankie just spent the last twenty minutes singing your praises and debating whether he should come up here?” She gestures towards the door with her free hand and you jolt up slightly in a panic.

“He’s not coming up, is he?”

“No, I said I would because I knew you’d be in here having a crisis.” She replies easily, and you take a breath before lowering yourself back down into the comfortable duvet. Little watches you for a moment before adding; “You know, I was looking at him when everything happened. I wanted to make sure he caught Rosie, but the look on his face when he saw you fall–I couldn’t look away until I heard the way you hit that rock.”

“He was just concerned, Little. He probably realised it could have been Rosie that got hurt.” You try to keep your tone light, despite wanting to throttle her for reminding you of the expressions of panic and concern that had flashed over his features when he had pulled you from the water. “He just got full custody of her, he’s going to be extra hard on himself for a while.”

“That’s probably true,” Little agrees, having been the one who told you the details of how Elena had sent him those papers releasing her from all parental rights, just weeks before the wedding. “But, Rosie was fine and you weren’t. He lost his shit, and don’t pretend you didn’t hear him saying ‘mi amor’ after insisting he be the one to bandage you up.”

You give another long sigh, staring up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes, thinking back to the look he’d given you on the beach. The way it made your heart feel as though it would beat right out of your chest. Maybe he did care more about you than you were admitting, but that didn’t mean it was anything more than a platonic love. You’d grown close over the course of helping Little and Santi plan their wedding, it was understandable that he was upset you had been hurt. Everyone else had been, though seeing as it was his daughter you had literally thrown yourself into harm’s way to save, it made perfect sense that he felt responsible for you.

“Let’s drop it Little, you need to get back to your husband and enjoy your honeymoon, and I need to wallow for a bit before eating my feelings at dinner.”

When Little gives a frustrated groan, you look back over at her in surprise to find her glancing at the closed door before her low voice says, “Santi will kill me for this, but…okay you know that he came by the night he got those papers from Elena?” You nod, your brows furrowing in curiosity, and wait for her to continue. “Well, I was in the shower when he first got there, so they were alone in the kitchen talking when I…uh, quietly walked down the hall to join them.”

You arch a brow at your best friend, “You eavesdropped?”

Little purses her lips, but gives a conceding jerk of her head, “Eavesdropping. Overheard. Whatever, Santi was the one who said Frankie was finally free to focus on himself. And I quote, ‘Ask out Star, I know she’s interested,’ and Frankie replied ‘Let me figure that out in my own time, man. No need to rush things with her.” She breaks off as you bolt upright, giving her a wide-eyed look.

“Shut up!”

“I’m serious! So take your time too, if you need it. But stop denying something is there.”

You drop your head into your hands, “Oh god, Little, making a move on vacation after your best friends get married isn’t the right time,” You shake your head, pressing your thumbs into the corners of your eyes, “There is a reality we live in, one where it makes zero sense to be together because we are so different and he has much more important things to worry about.”

This time, Little sits up and faces you, her expression serious, “He is not going to care at all about the–”

“He will. Even if he’s lovely and sweet about it because he’s Frankie, he has a child and a past with drugs, me coming in with my unofficial criminal activity is not–”

“Oh my god, Star, you weren’t even charged. The detective gave you a slap on the wrist by way of a stern talking to and then thanked you for saving those dogs when no one else would!” You open your mouth to respond, then pause as voices sound from the hall.

You both listen as footsteps near and then hear Frankie’s soft voice speaking to Rosie. He’s assuring her they can go back outside and play once she’s had a quick bath, and his voice fades when they disappear into his room, the sound of the door clicking shut the last thing you hear. Little gives you a look, not unloving but certainly frustrated, before giving you a quick hug and leaving the room.

You lay alone in your room for a long time thinking, until eventually the cool room and white noise of the fan whirring away above you lull you into a fitful nap. Your last thoughts–or perhaps, the beginning of your dreams–are of Frankie Morales pulling you from the water and promising to take care of you.

You stay in your room for the remainder of the evening, going so far as to order dinner up and letting the staff member pass along your goodnight to everyone on your behalf after she rolled the food cart in. You gave yourself a break, and thankfully no one begrudged it of you. It was relaxing enough, though you did have to distract yourself with a few movies to give your mind a break; overanalysing your feelings and intentions for Frankie wasn’t going to do either of you any good.

You had promised yourself to not hide anymore, however, and so the next morning you rose early enough to slip downstairs and join the few early risers for coffee. When you arrive in the kitchen, you almost turn back upon seeing only Frankie sitting at the table, coffee in one hand and a book in the other.

Maybe he was trying to distract himself as well.

You clear your throat before you take the coward’s way out, and he looks up with a mild interest that morphs into a full and stunning grin the moment he sees it’s you. You return an awkward smile, “Good morning.”

Frankie sets both his book and mug down, turning in his seat, “How are you feeling, querida?” His voice is deep from disuse so early, and you swallow nervously as you side step toward the coffee pot and help yourself.

“I’m really good, thank you,” You say, though when you do come around the counter to join him, his eyes fall to your bandage, peeking from the short hem of your romper. “Honestly, I changed the dressing first thing and it’s not too bad.” You try to shrug, but when you meet his gaze again his lips are pressed together in a thin line.

You sit down next to him at the table and offer a wider smile, grateful the concealer on your cheek hid the bruising around the slight cut there. “How are you?” You say, taking a sip of coffee and doing your best to appear relaxed despite the proximity.

He doesn’t press you, instead he seems to give a half shake of his head before replying. “I’m alright. I was worried…” He trails off, eyes dropping to his coffee and one of his large hands coming to rub the back of his neck. He needed a trim, his bed head more noticeable since he wasn’t yet wearing his signature cap. The desire to run your fingers through the mess of curls almost made you moan aloud. “I can’t thank you enough, you know. Rosie is completely fine because of you, and I’m really sorry you were hurt because I messed up.”

You look at Frankie in surprise, the self-loathing in his voice slipping through the steady tone he was trying to hide behind. Resisting reaching out for him, you instead opted to point at him and ensure he met your eyes before you said, “You did not mess up, Frankie. Kids run, they get wild and carried away and that’s why it sometimes takes a village when it comes to raising them,” He’s smiling a little, so you continue, “Anyone of us would have done the same, I just happened to be right there. But she’s going to scrape her knee one day and it won’t be your fault, okay?”

“I–you’re right. It’s a lot, having a kid. I love every minute of it, and I’m grateful for all the support, from my mother, from Little and all of you,” He sighs, pausing to take a sip of his coffee, “It’s just, at the end of the day I’m her dad. I’m supposed to be the one person who never lets her down or fucks up. She doesn’t have a mother anymore, I have to fill that role too now.”

You reach for him without thought as the words, that heartbreaking confession, come out. Taking his hand, you squeeze slightly and rub your thumb in soothing circles. For a moment, it’s silent, and you’re afraid to look up so you stare at your hands as you speak. “Any kid with a parent who loves as much as you do, Frankie, is lucky. Elena is the one who is missing out on both an amazing kid and a remarkable man. It’s her loss.”

You glance up when Frankie moves and only have a moment to see that blazing expression on his handsome face before a voice cuts in, startling you both.

“Here here!”

It’s Benny, bounding into the room cluelessly, his eyes on the morning fruits and breads set out along the counter. You pull your hand from Frankie’s and cover your blush by taking a large swig of coffee. He clears his throat and does the same, then greets Benny with a small edge to his voice.

“Hey Superhero!” Benny looks at you with a huge grin, slapping Frankie on the back in way of a greeting, and you can’t help but smile up at the blonde. He was just too nice, too oblivious to know he’d walked in on…well, you don’t know what that was.

“Benny, it’s too early to be so chipper.” You joke, grabbing one of the strawberries off of his plate as he sits down across from you. You spend the next half hour chatting with the two men, that tension between you and Frankie going unnoticed by the middle Miller, and then take advantage of Little, Santi and a few others all appearing to slip out of the room with your beach bag, eager to get some quiet time in by the water.

You can’t help but glance back as you close the patio door behind you, a pleasant heat coursing through you when you find Frankie’s eyes following you.

At lunchtime, you decide to pop upstairs to check your leg again before eating, knowing that once you have you’ll want to relax and procrastinate on the task. You haven’t stopped thinking about Frankie all day, but he’s been busy with Rosie and his mother, which has both kept him at a distance and stopped any further conversation from occurring between the two of you. You aren’t sure exactly what you would say, even if given a moment alone.

With a sigh, you convince yourself it’s for the best. There was a moment, yes. But this was a vacation–people tended to get caught up in the excitement. Your own mother was one to fall fully in love with pretty much any place your family traveled. But getting yourself too involved with the idea of Frankie and you was only going to lead to heartbreak for you, and potentially damage a friendship with him that meant a great deal.

Once you’ve finished, you open the door to your room and pause, glancing back towards the bed and finding your sunglasses laying on the duvet where you had tossed them as you came in earlier. It’s when you are padding back out the door moments later that you hear a soft little cry, which pulls you from your thoughts. You peer at the neighbouring door to yours, finding it slightly ajar, and listen. A few beats later another cry sounds, and you don’t hear Frankie or Imelda so you approach slowly and give a light knock.

“Imelda?”

You step into the room, eyes casting around only to find the bed empty–though clearly having been slept in. Rosie is tousle-haired in her crib, a frown on her little face that makes you soften instantly. Her grandmother must have woken already and left her to nap in peace, and you give the toddler a knowing smile.

“I think someone woke a little early,” You say, and her lower lip pouts out as tears begin to well and you scoop her up instantly, snuggling her close and peppering her with a few kisses. “Don’t worry sweet girl, I’ll cover for you.” Rosie gives a little giggle as she settles against you, finding a comfortable way to lay her head, and you begin to slowly pace the room, lightly swinging her in your arms, one hand rubbing soothing circles over her back.

As you comfort her, sadness washes over you. The idea that her mother could abandon her as if she were one of the unwanted dogs you worked with everyday made your heartbreak–and you were also a little angry for her and Frankie. You could understand not being ready to settle and have a family, but to put so little effort in over the first months of Rosie’s life, leaving for weeks at a time to party and always sending Frankie the bad news via text messages, you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

You had guessed that Elena was the one to bring Frankie close to drugs, before she was pregnant. That they had been spiralling together-her happy to be on the arm of a handsome veteran, him believing she wanted more than simply a little status and a constant partner to berate and abuse. You don’t know the details of what happened, or how he found out about Rosie, but you knew she was gone from their lives now and hoped that meant he could finally heal. You don’t realise you’ve begun to speak softly in Spanish, just calming words to help lull her back to sleep, until Rosie gives a happy snore.

You’ve been pacing by the window, and decide to move toward the chair in the corner, thinking you’ll just take a seat with her until Frankie or Imelda come up to check on her. You begin to turn when you hear a floorboard groan and pause in alarm to find Frankie there, just inside the doorway watching you in surprise. The expression on his face is odd, but you can’t get a read on it even as he continues to stare.

He just keeps looking at you, and you can’t stop looking back.

Frankie knew he should look away– he was staring. Aggressively. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from the image before him, the wonder barely concealed by his surprise. You, holding his baby. Saying words of comfort to her in Spanish as she clutches herself close and snores happily. He had wanted to come and wake her up from her nap, see if she wanted to play some games or build sandcastles, give his mother a few hours on her own. The last thing he expected when he walked into the room was to find you there.

He didn’t miss it either, that moment his foot made contact with the squeaky floorboard and your expression flashed with a protective concern, arms tightening slightly around his baby. He can hear his blood roaring in his ears and staring is the only thing he can do for several minutes. You become unsure as the silence stretches on, eyes assessing him in confusion before you move towards him.

“I’m sorry, Frankie. I heard her crying and thought I’d look in–”

Frankie shakes his head and smiles, “No, don’t apologise. I just,” He looks down at Rosie, still sound asleep, before meeting your gaze again and stepping closer. “I’ve never seen her relax like that for anyone else. She really likes you.”

He wants to say he does too. After that moment at breakfast, he’d found it hard to think of anything else and wanted to try and capture you alone, to explain why he had given you such an intense look when you’d comforted him. He wasn’t exactly sure how he would say it–certainly not, ‘I realised that moment I wanted you more than anything and I was going to ask if I could kiss you before that asshole Benny came in’. But something similar. Lighter.

You smile at his words, looking away from him to his little girl, “Oh, she’s a sweetie.”

He reaches out and rubs a hand along her back, careful to avoid touching yours, “Nicest kid, don’t know where she gets it from.” He jokes, but you frown at him, “What?”

“You’re just so hard on yourself,” You reply, your kind eyes never looking away, “But you know you’re an amazing person.”

Unsure of how to reply, he merely nods before gesturing over his shoulder. “Want to come downstairs? We were thinking of putting on a movie for her later, but she’s a bit tired today so it might be better to do it now.”

You brighten immediately, that beautiful smile tugging at your lips instantly and making his stomach do somersaults. “That sounds great, lead the way!”

Rosie is content to remain in your arms for the afternoon, whining anytime someone attempts to take a turn with her and snuggling back in close. He leaves you with her for the movie, opting to sit in a large bean bag chair at the back of the room where he can relax–he’s seen Finding Nemo enough times. You sit up front with Rosie and Benny and the afternoon moves along at a steady pace, the movie more than half over before he feels another person join him on the beanbag and looks up from his half doze to find Little giving him a knowing look.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. You were facing away and hadn’t noticed him watching, but he watched every laugh, the way you held Rosie. He’d seen you with her before, but this was the first time where it wasn’t with the purpose of wedding planning and you were more relaxed, entirely focused on his little girl.

Little follows his gaze and smirks, “Hey Fish,” He shoots her a look, well aware of what she’s up to, and she only smiles broadly. “Don’t look at me like that.” Her eyes sparkle, and when he looks behind her he sees Santi a few feet away on the couch she had been sharing with him, attempting to hide his own grin behind his drink.

“Look, I can guess the general direction of your thoughts,” He replies in a low voice, though the general chatter in the room, sound from the movie and distance from where you sit up by the TV with Rosie tells him he could probably speak at a normal volume and you wouldn’t hear. “And I’m going to tell you the same thing I said to Santi–in my own time.”

Little sighs, saying nothing and he thinks she might let it go, but eventually she pats his arm and gives him a small smile. “I just wanted you to know I’m here for you. Whatever you need–it’s my honeymoon, but if you’d like a babysitter tonight, Santi and I would be happy to take RoRo and give you some…space.”

Frankie considers his best friend’s offer, well aware that the evening activities planned included a beach bonfire everyone was going to dress up for. Maybe he could find a moment with you and just see what would happen. Tell you that he has feelings for you and then let you decide if another step could happen. He glances over in time to see you throw your head back in laughter at Rosie’s partial imitation of one of the characters in the movie, delight brightening your features, a happy giggle tearing out of Rosie.

He looks back over at Little, but meets Santi’s gaze as he does and pauses, remembering his friend’s words from the day before–that Rosie deserved to have a dad who was happy. He puts a hand over Little’s and gives a small nod, “Just for tonight? I think–I’m going to put myself first, just this once.”

You’re staring in the mirror, frowning at your reflection. You think your dress looks pretty–it’s casual and flowery, but there’s just so much cleavage. Little had said it was the exact right amount, and basically threatened to remove one of your fingers if you didn’t wear it to tonight’s little bonfire on the beach, but you had convinced yourself it would be breezy enough to justify a sweater over top. Instead, it was hot enough out tonight that the air conditioning was a very welcome reprieve even as the sun had started to set and you had opted to eat inside for dinner.

With no excuse, you decide to just wear the damn dress and enjoy, let yourself shut down the negative thoughts—because so far, not one person here has done a thing to make you uncomfortable or self-conscious. The only thing was, the dress had the type of tighter material that no bra could really contend with—regardless of the several options you had to go with, all were very noticeable underneath the smooth fabric, and the straps were twice the size of that of the dress. You turn this way and that as you look into the full length mirror, then let out a great sigh. You’ll go without a bra on. Plenty of people with breasts avoided bras all the time, there was no law saying that because yours were big, you had to hide them away. And aside from being much more comfortable, you know that the dress is tight fitting enough at the top to steady the ladies, so long as you don’t do any running.

Now that you’ve thought about it, you become determined and work quickly to throw the dress off, remove your bra and then redress, this time adjusting yourself carefully and then looking into the mirror with trepidation…but you look—well, amazing. Without the bulk of the bra, you fill the dress like it was literally handmade just for you, and the cleavage becomes slightly less pronounced. You love it, you love the self-confidence you feel as you gaze at yourself, and give yourself a little nod of approval before making your way down to the beach.

You had spent most of the afternoon with Rosie, only parting ways when it was her dinner time to sneak upstairs and get yourself ready for the bonfire. You’d ended up lingering in the shower, using the luxury soaps and conditioners to your heart’s content. You felt pampered and knew you smelled pretty amazing, and hoped that you’d still feel this confident when you faced Frankie again.

You didn’t know what tonight would bring, but you wanted to tell him that you had feelings for him. You were going to keep it simple; admit how you felt, but tell him he owed you nothing, not even a response. You just wanted him to know, and see where it took you–because this tension filled relationship was starting to wear on you, and falling harder and harder for him only meant doing more harm to yourself the more you held it back.

“Hey, Star!”

You startle out of your thoughts, glancing up from watching your feet as you clambered through the sand, to find Benny waving from next to the bonfire. He’s grinning a little manically, and you look around to find Little sitting on a chair nearby, shaking her head at her brother. “Benny, you look like you set the fire with ill-intent, you psycho!” She jokes, and you join in the laughter with the Millers, taking the seat next to Little and thanking Benny when he hands you a drink a moment later.

“I’ve interrupted a sibling gathering, it seems.” You say, smiling at your friend and noting the many empty chairs. Benny and Will are the only others down so far, each of them working on the fire as they chat about a past fight Benny had won and whether he would face the same opponent again.

Little leans back in her seat and answers your unspoken question. “Frankie is putting Rosie to bed, and Santi was on a mission for me to find skittles,” Her head rolls towards you, eyes giving you a head to toe scan and brightening. “You wore the dress.”

“Please don’t make it a big deal. But you were right,” You admit this reluctantly, and Little has the good grace to cover her self-satisfied smile by taking a large drink. “I do like how this one fits. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to start listening to you.”

Little makes an unamused noise, “But you look amazing! Seriously, you’re-”

You cut her off, “I heard you, Little—“

Another voice interjects, this one much deeper, “You do look very beautiful, cariña,” Frankie takes the free seat next to you and gives you a soft, shy smile. You’ve spun to look at him almost comically, your mouth opening and closing as heat floods your cheeks. “That colour suits you.” He adds, but his eyes don’t drop from your face like any other man would—no, he holds your gaze, rubs his neck nervously.

You stare for a long minute, the sincerity in his voice, the way he’s dressed up in nice slacks and a starfish patterned button up shirt, that little smile he’s giving you. You blurt out your one secret in a jumble, not even pausing to take a breath.

“I’ve kidnapped abused dogs when animal control can’t intervene without evidence and given them new homes in other cities and states. The police have warned me away from it but my family is well connected so I’ve only ever gotten a slap on the wrist…they keep it quiet so even my job doesn’t know but I use it to find out about the bad owners.”

Frankie just stares back at you silently, his eyes widening a fraction, firelight dancing over his handsome features. There’s a pause, and then Little moves to stand up, capturing both Frankie and your attention as she does. “So I’m going to go make out with my husband. But don’t forget to mention my badass escape driver skills from years ago, Star. I’ve been wanting to brag about that.”

Little walks over to join Santi where he stands chatting with Benny and Will, snatching a bag of skittles happily from his hands. You look back around at Frankie nervously, relieved to see his shocked expression has been replaced by curiosity. “That’s really…I mean, what you’ve done is incredible, Star. Even if it’s vigilante level,” He smiles now, and you can’t help but feel your lips tug up in response, “And I appreciate you sharing but, well, why?”

You turn to face him more directly and bite your lip as you think of how to respond. Deciding that you might as well keep going with the over-honesty, you say, “Because I really like you, Frankie. And I know you have a lot on your plate, that Rosie is your primary concern and if we—I mean, I just don’t want to add to your stress. And I’m just Little’s friend, I know we’ve gotten close but you don’t have any like loyalty to me if I were to get in trouble again and I know you had the drug charges—“

You cut yourself off, mortified at your words, but Frankie is smiling at you, his eyes soft. At first he doesn’t say anything, his eyes merely search your face. “Let’s go for a walk.” He stands, then offers you a hand to help you up, which you take without looking away. You wish you could read his mind right now, because despite the warmth in his smile you can’t get a read on much else. Nerves bubble away in your stomach; what if he’s about to tell you nicely he just wants to be friends?

But as he starts to walk away from the bonfire, his hand doesn’t drop yours. He holds it as he leads you along the beach. He still holds it when you reach the dock and begin making your way along, the ocean waves surrounding you and silencing the chatter from the bonfire group, the darkness growing. When you’re standing at the end of the dock, he gestures for you to take a seat, and as you do he still doesn’t drop your hand.

The moon isn’t very bright tonight, its glow minimal, but it’s enough to reflect off the water and create enough light to see one another. Your stomach is doing summersaults now, and you think your hand is sweaty so you instinctively grip his a little harder to avoid any slippage that would give you away. “Relax, Cariña” He says softly, and though you offer him a smile you can’t really do much more—the moment feels too significant for relaxing. “Let me say this first—I like you too. A lot. I have for a while.”

You feel your stomach disappear, like you’re dropping over the peak of a rollercoaster. “Oh.”

Frankie chuckles warmly, then drops your hand and instead reaches up to brush some stray hairs back from your face. You have to suppress a shiver and can’t look away from the earnest expression on his handsome face.“Yes, ‘oh’. And you aren’t just Little’s friend, Star. You are a part of our family, everyone here loves you, so please don’t think you’re only here because of her,” His hand falls to take hold of one of yours, resting in your lap. “And if you know about the drug charges, then you know they were dropped and I’ve been clean for a long time. Did you really think I wouldn’t want to be with you because you’ve rescued animals in need from their abusers?”

His eyes are searching your face, narrowed slightly to combat the darkness, and you’re glad he can’t sense the way your cheeks are so flushed you could fry an egg on them. “I don’t know what I thought, really. I just…you are such an amazing man, Frankie. You’re this incredible dad, and you were in the fucking special forces, and I’m a much younger vet tech for an animal rescue. I literally bring home strays all the time, and I could never,” You pause, fishing around for the right way to say this, and Frankie simply sits there patiently, his hand still holding yours. “I could never imagine realistically how we would work. How I could fit into your life.”

When Frankie says your name, his voice is a low timbre that sends a wave of sparks up your spine. You meet his gaze as he continues, “You’re way too hard on yourself, baby,” Your brows shoot up in surprise at his recycling of what you had said to him earlier; heat coils in your stomach, “You realise I’ve been thinking the same way? Wondering how an old man with a kid could ever be what you would want, convincing myself I’m no good for you. Doing the same thing I watched Santi do for years with Little.”

His voice has taken on a new edge, a confidence there you hadn’t sensed before. “I want…you to be happy. I want to be happy too, Frankie.” Is all you say, and he nods once, and then his hands are running up your neck and pushing into your hair as he dips his face close to yours, half-lidded eyes a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” You reply breathlessly, and then Frankie Morales closes that gap and those plush lips seal over yours, finally. It’s perfect and you could cry with joy. He kisses you slowly, deliberate, his hands holding your head steady. Minutes pass and you have to practically gasp for air until he slowly pulls back. You both ignore the cheering you can hear coming from the beach. “Let’s go inside for some privacy.”

He considers you, “I want that. But you need to know that I want to date you, properly, once we get home.”

You tilt your head, smiling, “Oh, I was hoping what happened in Hawaii stayed in Hawaii.” Frankie laughs, and the look of pure adoration on his face is enough to make you turn to jelly. “I want that too, Frankie. I want to do this right.”

You smile at each other like lovesick kids, and then Frankie is helping you to your feet, an arm landing around your shoulders and you begin the walk back. It seems like the longest distance, now that you know you’re going inside to be alone with Frankie, and you know he feels the same–it’s almost a struggle to keep up with his fast pace on your much shorter legs. You’re grateful that everyone is either at the bonfire or relaxing in their own rooms, meeting no one as you slip upstairs together and into the quiet comfort of your room. Frankie locks the door behind you and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as you both ready yourselves for this next part.

“Frankie I–” You pull back slightly, trembling with nerves that you see reflected in his own expression. He gives you a reassuring smile, one large hand swiping your hair back over your shoulder. “I have birth control, and I’m clean. I actually haven’t been with anyone else in a while. Just, well I’ve been so busy and there’s no time for dating and then I met you and–”

Frankie swoops forward and captures your lips against his, stopping you mid-blubber and effectively wiping your mind free of all thoughts. He kissed with a purpose, like a dance that his entire body had to move with; you weren’t just entwining your tongues, no his body was pressing to yours, a hand cupping your face and the other steadying you, pressed to your lower back. When your arms settled around his shoulders, you couldn’t resist sinking your fingers into his curls, a low groan of approval your indication that he wanted you to touch him too. It went on like this for ages, still at the door despite the entire room being available to you.

You enjoyed the conflict in the actions; frantic kissing, but no rushing towards the next part. Frankie was taking his time, and you relished in it, happy to spend the rest of the vacation in this very spot, like he was breathing oxygen into your greedy lungs just when you needed it the most. The hand on your back splays somewhat, moving up to better hold you and you can’t help the little whimper you breathe, because he’s so much bigger than you and you feel small and safe, but also incredibly turned on. It’s this that nudges him forward, only one step. He presses you harder against him and grounds his hips slightly.

You feel the hardness of him against your stomach, and your thighs clench wickedly in response. Entirely without thought, you begin to unbutton his shirt, making quick work and then lightly trailing your fingers down, stopping short at his stomach. Not by choice, but because the second you got that low, Frankie let out a snarl against your lips before his hands moved suddenly to grip the flesh of your ass. “You are so goddamn sexy, mi amor,” He sighs, his forehead pressed to yours, and you smile at him–you’re surprised he went for your ass, his hands still massaging over the fabric of your dress, a hunger glinting in his eyes.

You thought he’d go straight for your chest and forget the rest of you. You worried that even though you wanted his attention, for him to take you in every way, that he could end up like the rest and focus on your largest insecurity. Instead, he’s looking at you like you alone hung the moon, and that he’s the lucky one getting to touch you. “Frankie, please.” It’s a whispered plea that seems to awaken something in the man before you.

His entire body reacts, and you can only gasp when the world suddenly spins because he’s lifted you–tossing you gently onto the bed.

Frankie couldn’t stand it, how perfect you were yet how insecure. The fear that was etched in lines along your otherwise youthful complexion. He knew you, understood what you thought he would do, and he was determined to show you how a man could worship every inch of you properly. “Yes, baby, what do you need?” His voice is low, dripping with honey as he runs his hands up the backs of your thighs, pushing your dress up as he does. You respond with a little mewl that makes his rock hard cock twitch, and he has to unzip his pants to give himself some reprieve from the pressure. “I’ll do anything you want–walking around with this perfect body, you think I haven’t wanted to taste every inch?”

You moan aloud now, head turning to peer at him over your shoulder. Your eyes are wide, pupils blown with desire, and he can’t help but growl at the sight of you on your stomach, legs splayed and trembling for him. “Anything. Please, do anything…” You gasp, and he gives you a wicked smile before running his fingers over your panties, using one hand to tug them aside, and then he dives forward and licks you where you need him most.

The sound that escapes you is half-tortured, half-hysterical. He doesn’t relent, feasting on you like a last meal, his fingers gently prodding and pressing to ready you for his cock. He can tell you’re tight, and he doesn’t want to cause you even a moment of discomfort. Though you continue to make noise for him, it takes him a few minutes to get everything right, maximising your pleasure as he learns what you like. He can feel your legs are tense, and lifts his head slightly to peer over the curve of your ass. You have your head to the side, pressed into the mattress with your eyes tightly shut.

Frankie grunts in dismay, “No baby, you have to relax for me, that’s it, I’m not going to stop. You need to cum, alright?” He waits for you to nod and for your body to loosen, and he gives a cheek a reassuring squeeze. “Good girl.”

He feels you tighten around his fingers at the praise and makes a mental note before surging back in, licking and tasting your cunt until you’re quivering on the edge. When he senses you there, he nudges his nose through your folds and sucks at your clit, from there it’s only a second before you jerk with your orgasm. “Ohohoh!” You sigh, hands fisting the sheets, ass rocking as you pull the most pleasure from him. Frankie helps you over the edge and then eases you back down, gently kissing your inner thighs.

“So good, baby,” He murmurs, moving to his hands and knees and pressing kisses up your back, dragging your dress the rest of the way. You help him, limbs slightly shaky, and toss the dress over the side of the bed, where he also throws your underwear and his own remaining clothing. “You doing alright, mi amor?” Frankie reaches up and turns you on your back, his eyes searching your face for any sign of wanting to stop.

You lock gazes with him for a long moment and an emotion flashes over your expression, halting him. “You can look…you can touch me, Frankie. I want you to.” You say, half gesturing at your chest. And he looks now, at those perfect tits you hide behind cardigans and too-big sweaters, knowing full well that men have mistreated you in the past because of them, not meeting your eyes when you wanted them to. He scoots forward, surprisingly at ease with your eyes drifting over his naked form, the hard length of him standing proud, scars long healed from his days in combat now available for you to drink in.

“I want you to know that these are perfect,” He replies, hands trailing over your nipples, “Everything about you is. Eres tan encantadora…” He lowers his head and licks over one, then moves to the other, his eyes on your face. “I am going to fuck you all night.” He adds, and you swallow thickly, mouth slightly open as you watch him press his lips between your tits, then trail his tongue up, stopping at the column of your neck.

He positions his body over yours, careful that his cock rests near enough to your core to tease you, and you open your legs wider, inviting him as close as possible. “My body has always been mine,” Your voice is soft, the tone openly vulnerable, “It always will be, I’ve learned that. But I want you to take me, Frankie, make me yours too. I trust you.”

His heart almost stops in his chest, and he adjusts his position so that he can trace one hand over your cheek, “Mi amor, I belong to you, it’s you who takes me.” He doesn’t look away, simply adjusts himself with his free hand and slides himself through your soaked folds, then grips your hip as he sheaths himself fully inside of you. “Oh fuck.” He grunts, his head dropping now to the crook of your neck as the velvet warmth of you overwhelms him.

“Frankie, fuck,” Eyes closed, you arch for him, legs circling his waist to pull him deeper. “So big, ah!”

“That’s it baby, take what you need,” He groans in your ear, thrusting slowly as you get used to his size. When you drag his face to your, hands gripping his hair almost roughly, and kiss him again, he could drown in the feeling. It’s more erotic than earlier, the kisses now nearly aggressive with need, each of you pulling for dominance in a lust-filled game. It’s a short while later that your hips begin to move to meet his slow thrusts, a sign that you want more.

Frankie has always been good at sex–hot nights in the middle of the jungle lead to quick, passion-filled encounters once back in town with women he didn’t even know the name of. He never paid for sex, it was always consensual, women picked up at bars, and then with Elena it was always fast. She liked to take what she needed, then finish him off and leave the cuddling for the actors in movies.

But tonight he was truly making love for the first time in his life. His body felt connected to yours, like you were echoing one another’s pleasure, wanting the most for the other person. He wants you in every way and finds himself so entirely involved–like he can hear every thought in your head, guess your every need. When you let out a small whine, he can’t help but laugh against your lips, and then he’s moving and pulling you with him, delighting in the sound you make when he’s got you seated on his cock, his back against the headboard.

“That’s…wow, you’re deep Frankie,” You can barely speak, and he’s so fully entwined with you now that he can’t do more than groan in pleasure and help you begin to move on his cock, the wet sounds of your bodies no match for the noises you can pull from each other.

The world melts away in that room, hours passing as you passionately fuck, and he holds himself back from cumming, loving the way you try to do the same and fail several times. You cum like you have a secret, and he is more than happy to make it happen again and again. He puts his hands everywhere but your injury, careful to avoid the bandage, and makes notes of the places that make your eyes roll. And as time goes on, you begin to become cock-drunk, slowly revealing a more demanding part of yourself–first, you start by telling him to go harder or faster, then the dirty talk begins, and now he’s sure you aren’t going to let him bring you over the edge again alone.

There’s a note of desperation in your voice, paired perfectly with the whimpers as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your hip and the other wrapped in your hair. “Where do you want to cum, Frankie? Inside me? All over my ass?” You toss him a look over your shoulder, nearly feral and the desire to slam deep and cum inside of you is there, but he holds back. “No no, I want to taste you. Let me get down on my knees for you.”

Frankie almost cums, he really does. It’s close, and he has to rip himself back and grip the base of his cock hard–all the while you turn on the bed and grin at him in victory. “Fuck baby, you almost made me cum,” He groans, then watches in complete shock as you climb off the bed and get down on your knees next to it. You part your legs slightly, one hand dipping down to rub your clit, the other pushing your hair behind your shoulders.

“Come here, Frankie,” The most delicious demand he’d ever heard. He’s a little shaky as he gets off the bed and moves to stand tall over you. He still grips himself, wondering if he can get away with lifting you back on the bed–but you sense his plan and tilt your head back, “Please, I need your cum–”

Frankie grunts, one hand shooting out to grip your hair–he’s gentle, but you only grin wider and open your mouth. “You little–oh fuck–” He can’t stop himself, because you tremble and he sees that you begin to cum on your fingers, feels how his hand is half the reason you’re still sitting upright. He cuts off in a guttural moan and fists his hand over his cock, and then he’s giving you exactly what you wanted.

You make happy noises as he comes across your lips, then again down your chin and over those perky tits. He hears himself moaning, but he loses the rest as he watches you lick your lips, then surge forward and take the tip of him into your eager little mouth. He didn’t think he had anymore left in him, but he’s shooting down your throat now and it’s all he can do to keep standing. He finally pulls you back, spent, and almost starts cumming again at the sight of you covered in his cum, breathless from swallowing around his cock.

“Mi amor,” He growls, recovering enough to bend down and pick you up, placing you back onto the bed and then falling to lay next to you. It takes several moments to catch your breaths. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” He asks you eventually, rolling onto his side to survey you with concern.

You give a little laugh, “Am I okay? No, I’ll never be okay again after that, Frankie Morales. That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” You say, and he blushes at the compliment, a surge of pride making the slight pain in his back dull. “How was that for you?”

There’s an edge of uncertainty he immediately works to dispel, first kissing you gently before pulling back with a warm smile. “I will remember this night for the rest of my life. You are amazing,” He takes one of your hands in his, “The best night of my life was the night Rosie was born. Nothing has ever come close, and I thought that was it for me–my happiness is Rosie, and that alone was more than I deserved. She is more than I deserve,” Frankie speaks slowly, ensuring that you hear every word, “I never thought that–even if I did admit how I feel about you, Star–that you would feel the same. You are the best person I have ever been lucky enough to know, and this night was…it’s the only one that has ever brought me as much happiness as that night Ro was born. I don’t know if I even deserve this, but I want a million more nights with you, mi amor.”

He then drops his gaze to rake slowly down every curve of your body, placing his fingers where he came on your chest as he tries to convey how he feels for you. When you shiver, he knows he’s on the mark, and he smiles at you for a long time when he looks back into your eyes.

“I think I just fell in love with you, Frankie Morales.” His heart swells with emotion and you shift closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Welcome to my world,” He replies, your name intimate on his tongue. “Now let me take care of cleaning you up, I’m sure I can get you to cum a few more times…”

Frankie woke with a start, his head jerking up from the pillow as he clocked the sound of Rosie’s early morning whimpers. He’s confused at first, because she had stayed with Little and Santi the evening before, but when he finds where the noise is coming from, he is swept by that feeling he kept experiencing the night before.

You stand a few feet from the door, having just returned to the room with Rosie, wrapped in one of the provided robes. You have her head tucked under your chin and you’re speaking softly, soothing words with no real meaning to keep her calm. The golden sun streams through the shutters that were never fully closed the night before, and though he aches all over from making love to you for hours, he really never has been happier in his life.

The woman he loves, holding his child, comforting her without hesitation. You must have woken before him and realised that Rosie hadn’t seen him since the night before, gone to find her while he continued to snooze. He watches you quietly, drinking in the way you run your fingers through her hair, press soft kisses to the crown, and appear entirely at ease. It isn’t until you begin to climb back into bed that you finally look at Frankie, and you pause in surprise when you see him awake.

“Oh no, I woke you, sorry Frankie,” You say quietly, but all he does is shake his head and reach toward you. You make to pass Rosie to him, but he shakes his head abruptly and you slide closer, a small smile appearing now, and snuggle as close as possible with the sleeping toddler between you. When you’ve settled comfortably, Rosie content in the middle, you lay your head on his pillow and sigh happily.

Frankie settles one hand over Rosie where it joins yours, and runs the other across your cheek, “I could get used to this, mi amor,” He admits, and you nod in agreement, eyes twinkling with happiness he feels as well, right to his core. “Thank you.”

You frown slightly, “For what?”

“For loving me, I suppose.”

The frown softens, kind eyes filled with emotion as you reach for him, pressing a soft kiss to his nose, “Frankie, you are so easy to love.”

And even after so many years feeling the opposite, of doubting himself because of who he is and what he’s done, Frankie believes you. He believes that you love him, that’s it’s easy for you because you were always meant to be his. And truly, Frankie knows he has always belonged to you.

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