The Fishermen (Infidelity #2)

by C.P. Harris

“Yeah, I do,” I agreed, not sure we were talking about the same problem, because I was looking at mine.

I wanted nothing more than to have him returned to me, wanted nothing more than the feel of his broad back nestled into my chest, because big, bad, Franky had a thing for being the little spoon. He’d said it was a new phenomenon he couldn’t quite grasp. I said it was because he’d always had to be the one to protect, but here, safe with me, he now got to be the one protected. He kissed me breathless for that.

How could he possibly see himself as distant and cold? Or only distant and cold, because I definitely understood firsthand that he could be both of those things without apology. But he was this too. He was giving, supportive, humble, and he saw the best in me. Being with Franky was equivalent to floating on air, and I’d become addicted to the high.

“Hear the beautiful music we make when we fuck?” I asked crudely. I would make him remember this. I would engrain this sound into every fiber of his being. Any time he heard the slapping of water, the slippery, squelching sound of slickness, the hard smacking of sweaty skin colliding with sweaty skin, of wetness personified, he would think of me. I would be his ocean, and he would fucking yearn for me.

Franklin Kincaid was highly flawed, uncivilized, possessive, and entitled when it came to me and my body, but he was also good, and I’d go down fighting anyone who believed differently.

This will end, Leland. And following behind that came a new realization: But not before he breaks you.

You need to make a choice, I wanted to say, but his mouth brought mine to silence. This isn’t right. It never has been, I wanted to say next, but his tongue got in the way. I know we said no promises, and I know I swore to myself that I wouldn’t fall in love with you, but we both know things have changed. That everything is changing. I said none of that, though. I wanted to shout for him to stop kissing me like he’d rather die than to tear his lips away from me. To stop touching me like he wanted to rip my skin away to get to the important parts of me. To stop making me believe that I’m something more than what I am when he gazed at me. But saying any of that would’ve required the ability to breathe, and right then, my every breath belonged to him.

He fucked me like the clock was winding down, like the world was coming to an end and he’d be damned if it did so without him claiming me thoroughly one last time. I welcomed it, loved it even. Because for once I had someone in my life who was torn up by the possibility of losing me, and I relished in the way it felt to see him fight to hold on to me, even if he only fought in the physical sense.

“Fucking you feels like freedom, Leland.”

“Franky?” My voice quaked.

“Yeah,” he said into my skin.

Was I better than this? Did I want to be better than this? I did. I did want that. But I wanted Franky even more.

“Leave her,” I whispered.

“We’ll talk later. Let me get you home.” Those were the words I’d said to him after taking him with an edge sharpened by fear, and after he’d asked me to leave my wife for him. They were the last words spoken by either of us for the remainder of the night—or rather early morning.

“I would’ve liked to believe I would have, but ultimately, I don’t think I would’ve found the courage to. Because I don’t think I would have discovered what it was I needed to make me whole if I hadn’t discovered you. And I doubt I’ll ever find another you, Leland.” I loved building things with my bare hands, but doing so alone in that house for the summer wouldn’t have been enough of a catalyst to make me uproot my life. It wouldn’t have been the thing that left me feeling full. “There’s no one else like you, Leland.”

“Not even Theo?” he whispered.

“Not even Theo,” I whisp...

I could walk away from Leland now and go back to my old life and find some measure of peace because I’d know that other than him there was nothing else out there in the world for me. But I couldn’t break their hearts for anything less than forever with him.

“So tell me, please, Leland. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“Somewhere still wanting you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,”

“I’m not an easy man to deal with,” I warned him, planting a knee on the bed.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said.

“I’m not an easy man ...

“Loving you will be worth the fight it will take t...

“I’m stubborn, and selfish, and can get in my own way, and I sometimes show that I care by doing things that prove the opposite.”

“How many times do I have to say that I’m not afraid of you? When will you finally believe me, Franky?”

“Maybe after you’ve loved me through my worst...

“Bring i...

“I’m going to make love to you this time,” I said, as something like a purr climbed...

“Just promise me I’ll still feel you tomorrow,” he said, ...

“Don’t do something you’ll regret. I’m warning you, Leland.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Franky,” he said, not even blinking under the strength of my fierce stare. If anything, the threat of facing my anger seemed to embolden him further. “Don’t worry, I’ll wear a rubber—”

“I’m a powerful man, Leland. I hold more influence than you can ever imagine. Don’t make me ruin someone’s life all because you’re in the mood to test me,” I whispered maliciously, the air pumping through his nostrils hot against my face as I drew in closer to him. “Don’t play games you can’t win.”

Franklin Kincaid would call in all favors owed to dismantle the life of anyone who laid a hand on Leland. Franklin Kincaid would buy out Josephine’s just to have the pleasure of setting it afire and watching it burn.

“What do you win by sending me into a jealous rage? Is your goal for me to fuck you? Spank you until I break skin? Do you need me to make it so you can’t sit, let alone ride a cock or fuck a pussy while I’m gone?”

“What I’m about to say next is unfair of me. I know this.”

“I don’t want anyone else’s hands on you, and I’m afraid of what I might be capable of to ensure that doesn’t happen.” I’d backed us deep into his corner, my shoes bumping up against his bare feet. His cheeks were rosy, his eyes screaming bloody murder, but I didn’t care. “Don’...

Because whoever that man was—Franky, Franklin, or someone else entirely—having him promise to make the life of anyone who touched me a living hell, felt good. Too good to question or regret, and I hadn’t been an angel either. I’d pushed him because I needed him scared, just as scared as me, because maybe if his terror reflected my own, he wouldn’t leave me to go be with her.

Despite what I’d said in the heat of the moment, Franky did own me, and he always would.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding on to the island at either side of my hips and rolling his nose through my hair. “I don’t want to fight with you.” He backed up enough to let me turn around, then connected his forehead to mine. We stayed like that for a while.

“If you need to sleep in the same room with her, you don’t sleep in her bed.” I couldn’t bring myself to say their bed. “If you need someone to talk to, you call me. I’m who you go to for comfort, Franky.” I continued with my list of demands, asking for what I wanted even if the answer would be no. “If you need something to let your frustrations out on, if you need someone to fuck, you come find me in the middle of the night. I’m your secret keeper, your shoulder to lean on, your ocean when there isn’t one, and my ass is your goddamn punching bag. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” he said, kissing ...

“I need you,” I said, needing to feel possessed by him after our fight. “Fuc...

“No one will want to touch you when I’m through with you,” he said, clamping his mouth over my nipple next.

“When you promised you wouldn’t ask me for more, did you already know you would?”

“Yes,” I said truthfully. “Did you go into this knowing I’d break my promise?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I knew, but I wanted you anyway. It was the worst of the many selfish acts I’ve committed since meeting you. One of many selfish acts I’d committed against you. I’m scared it won’t be my last, Leland. You deserve better than me.”

“Just come back to me, Franky,” I said, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes...