California Nights (Rich Boys of California Duet 1)

Love.

I hadn’t said it yet. But I felt it. All the way down to my fucking bones.

I looked at the girl beside me. The sweet, beautiful brave girl. I brushed her hair away and kiss her long and hard.

“Let’s get out of here.”

She looked at me, her big eyes telling me she was ready to go too.

I’d had her in the pool house just a few hours ago but I was more than ready for round two. And three. And four.

I watched as she said goodbye to everyone. I waved to Nev and Clay but I didn’t come back to the fire. I didn’t want anyone to see the fucking bulge in my pants.

The impressively large bulge, I might add.

We walked in silence back to the car. Frannie was driving since Clay and I had been drinking beers since dinner. Not that I was drunk by any stretch of the imagination.

I wasn’t going to get hammered when I could go to bed with Frannie instead.

It wasn’t even close to an even trade off. I would never touch alcohol again if it cost me even one night in her bed.

She smiled at me and started the engine, driving back from the beach to the Westlake Estate.

“So…”

I looked at her. Hell, I was already looking at her body. But something in her tone made me look at her face.

“You want to talk?”

She nodded, not looking at me.

“You meant it? About coming to Japan with me?”

I slid over to her, my hand pushing her gorgeous hair back so I could see her better.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

She exhaled loudly.

“So you meant all of it.”

“Yes.”

“Even what you said about the future?”

I stared at her in the darkness.

“I said it and I meant it. I’m going to marry you, Frannie.”

She let out a startled laugh.

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck yes. And you better be sure too.”

I leaned over and kissed her neck during a stop light.

“Not that you have a choice.”

I meant it too. There was no way in hell I was letting her get away from me. It might be kind of stalkerish but I didn’t give two fucks.

I knew what I wanted.

I had it.

I was keeping it.

I was keeping her.

Chapter Eighty-Five

Frannie

Alone in the bathroom, I stared into the mirror. We’d just gotten back from the beach. Jace had told me he wanted to marry me for the second time.

My mind could hardly believe it.

But my heart did.

And so did my gut.

He’s going to marry me.

A brisk knock on the bathroom door broke my train of thought.

I opened the door and stopped in my tracks.

Jace was laying across the bed. He had candles lit everywhere. And he had the sash of my bathrobe in his hand.

“What is this?”

He patted the bed, saying nothing.

I walked over there in my nightie, not sure what to expect.

“Give me your hands.”

I glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He looked calm, not crazed or mischievous. I exhaled sharply, holding out my wrists.

He tied them together and picked me up, putting me in the center of the bed. Then he lifted my arms, tying me to the canopy above us.

“What are you doing,” I asked breathlessly.

“I need to have control tonight,” he said, staring down at me while he worked.

“Oh,” I breathed.

“I will never hurt you, Francine.”

“I know,” I said, nodding the permission he hadn’t asked for. “You might break it.”

He just shook his head.

“Try not to move.”

I was breathing heavily as he unbuttoned the front of my nightie. It opened up, hanging on both sides of me. He tilted his head, considering something.

Then he reached out and tore it off of me.

I was hanging from my wrists on the bed, wearing just my panties.

Jace stared at me hungrily, his eyes on my breasts. I watched as his eyes slid down to my pussy and stayed there. He actually licked his lips, like a cartoon wolf.

Though there was nothing funny about the look on his face.

“Jesus, woman…”

My mouth was open as I tried to catch my breath. Just his eyes on me was sending me into overdrive.

I felt so exposed, my body on display for him.

He came closer, smiling at me. His fingertips stroked my skin lightly.

“You’re my little rag doll, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You belong to me. Say it.”

His fingers traced my pussy through my underpants.

“Yes.”

“Say it, Francine.”

“I belong to you.”

He smiled and went over to the table. He pulled his shirt off and I heard a clinking sound. Then he was back, staring at me. He grinned and saw it.

He had an ice cube in his mouth.

“Where did you get – oh!”

He put his mouth on my nipple, flicking his ice cold tongue against it rapidly.

“Hmmmffff…”

He was making those sexy sounds he made when he approved of something.

I approved too.

Dear God, did I ever.

My head fell back as his hands moved over me, sliding into my panties.