The Torch Singer Ch. 02

"You did? You thought about this?" He asked softly, his baritone voice like dark honey to her ears.

She nodded mutely, and looked back into his eyes. She noted that they seemed very dark blue and his pupils seemed large. He daringly continued: "So when you imagined this, how did it end?" He asked almost breathlessly, losing himself in her huge turquoise eyes. He saw a sudden flush rise in her cheeks, and her breathing quickened.

"Can't you guess?" She breathed. Jake snapped, amazed at himself that it took so long. He took hold of her slender arms and yanked her to him, swooping down toward her waiting mouth. Frankie moaned aloud as his lips crushed hers. It felt as if she'd gone up in flames, but there was no pain - only arousal. Frankie felt a flood of wetness in her lace panties.

He enfolded her in his arms and pressed their bodies together as the kiss deepened, but grew more gentle. The scent of gardenia and lavender arose from her skin. He could feel everything at once - the trembling taut, soft skin of her back and shoulders covered by tiny goosebumps, the luxury of her satin gown, the press of her erect nipples against his chest. She strained into him as violently as he to her, and her mouth opened willingly as his insistent tongue pushed inside. Now it was Jake who moaned. He reached up to cradle her head with one hand, his fingers gliding through her impossibly beautiful hair. The other hand moved down her spine, molding her body to his. He was already partially erect and knew she could probably feel it pressing into her.

Overwhelmed, she broke the kiss and pressed her face to his chest. Frankie was tall and wearing heels, but he was still much taller. He held her close, planting multiple tender kisses on the crown of her head, murmuring her name over and over.

"God, Jake." She spoke into his expensive shirt. "Ten years... ten years..." She pulled back and looked up at him, a tiny frown forming between her winged eyebrows.

No longer whispering, she demanded: "I've been waiting ten years, Jake. What took you so fucking long?!" Though she pretended to be angry, it wasn't really possible to feel anything other than joy in his presence. He laughed, incredulous, at her profane outburst. Emotions flitted across his face: surprise, happiness, confusion.

"Me, you ask?!" He protested, but still couldn't resist running the pad of his thumb under her trembling lower lip to remove the last-remaining smudge of her now vanished lipstick.

"What about you, hey? Why didn't you try to find me after high school, like I asked?" He was trying to scold her, but his voice only conveyed deep longing.

Now it was Frankie's turn to be confused. "What do you mean: like you asked? When? How?"

"My letter, of course - the one I gave to Bobby..." And just like that, they both understood. Thunderstruck, they stood a few inches apart, allowing the implications to sink in.

As they looked at one another, Frankie sadly shook her head at Jake, confirming what he only now understood. She said softly: "I never got any letter, Jake... He must have...oh, god."

Frankie looked upward in abject frustration. She was shaking now.

Jake felt a strange twisting in his gut. It was part good and part bad. The good: she didn't choose to move on - she never chose at all. All those years of doubt were swallowed up. The bad: they were swallowed up by regret - painful, frustrating regret and loss. He ached at the realization of what she must have felt. That she believed all these years he'd left without a word. The wasted time - the sleepless nights. None of it had been necessary. Fucking Bobby. Jake thought that he'd like to break his nose a second time. And then some.

But catching sight of Frankie, he saw that she was shaking with emotion. All of the pain and regret he was feeling seemed to be worse for her, because it was compounded by a sense of betrayal.

She was very quiet when she asked: "What did your letter say, Jake?"

He gently recounted the entire letter for her. He'd never forgotten it. Like he'd written it yesterday. She listened silently, her eyes wide. Her eyebrows shot up in recognition and her lip began to tremble when he quoted the part about his "beautiful bright angel."

"Your Oscar speech..." It wasn't a question, and yet it was.

"Yep, my Oscar speech. It was about you, Frankie. It's always been about you." He tucked a stray lock of her hair behind one ear, and drew her chin up to place a slow, tender kiss on her lips. She kissed him back with fervor, winding her arms around his neck. They kissed with desperation - full in the knowledge that something had been stolen from them.

Frankie leaned back and looked up at him, her eyes shining. "You loved me..."

Jake countered, cupping the sides of her face: "Oh Frankie - I LOVE you. Still. Always."

She burst into tears and pressed her face into his neck. Jake felt the tears running down his own face. It was almost too much. Almost.

"Don't cry, angel. I'm right here. And now we have the chance to make up for lost time, right?"

She had no idea how beautiful she looked to him, her tears running down her pale face, her eyes flashing with passion and urgency. She gripped the front of his shirt and nearly shook him as she spoke.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Jake - if you knew. All these years - it's been you. I sing because of you... I sing FOR you. Only for you."

His head tipped back, he expelled an ecstatic sigh. "Aren't we a pair, then." He leaned down and kissed the tears from her face. "You only sing for me. I only compose for you."

Frankie pressed her forehead into Jake's chest. "Fucking BOBBY! I'm going to murder him. Slowly." She wound her arms around him and pressed herself against him.

"I'll hold him down for you." He joked, and she laughed.

"How could he do it?" She asked miserably. Despite the fact that Jake shared a similar sentiment, he knew how important Frankie's brothers were to her - and she to them. He found himself saying, surprisingly rather convincingly:

"Frankie, as upset as you are now, it's important to remember that this happened when you were only fourteen. I'm sure Bobby was just trying to protect you. Hell, that was his job, wasn't it? I've gotta be honest here - he wasn't wrong to try to shield you. I was much older than you..."

Frankie groaned, partly in unwilling acknowledgment and partly in refusal to grant him any mercy. She shook her head in denial for a moment, and then froze - looking up at Jake with a wild look in her eyes.

"Okay, fine - say that is all true. WHY didn't he tell me later, when I was of age? Huh?!"

Jake bit his lip. He was thinking much the same thing. Yep, he'd happily hold the fucker down while she castrated him. The bastard. But a part of Jake remembered how much he loved Bobby and his boyishly thoughtless, yet generous nature.

"Although..." Frankie began, worrying her lip with her thumb and forefinger. He found that so adorable he had to stop himself from slamming his lips against hers. She looked up at Jake, seeming more unsure of her anger than before.

"He did call me - just today as a matter of fact. He said he needed to tell me something." Her face softened and she sighed.

Jake had to remind himself that this was real. He was here, holding the woman of his every fantasy.

And she was even better than his dreams. His cock was continuing to stiffen. He looked down at her now as a lover - and noted the heated swell of her breasts, the way the light silvered her luminous skin, the way she felt in his arms.

"Can I ask you something, beautiful?" He purred, as he ran a hand lovingly down her cheek, her throat, and the deep v of her sexy dress. She shivered, curling into him.

"Anything..." She sounded breathless. He wondered if she was wet.

She was. Tiny jolts of electricity were building in her pussy. She had "ASMR" again - tingling from her scalp, to her neck and shoulders, and on down, down to her toes.

"Why... the FUCK... are we talking about your brother at a time like this?" His voice had now dropped a register and was essentially a growl.

He leaned down and recaptured her mouth in a masterful kiss that left her gasping. His other hand caught the firm round curve of her ass and pressed her to his hardening cock. She keened for him, winding her arms around his shoulders and jamming her glove-clad fingers through his hair.

He cursed violently and lifted her off the ground, spinning her toward the make-up table and depositing her on top. She gasped. This was too parallel to her nocturnal fantasy the night before - was it only last night?!! It was almost overwhelming.

His hands slipped inside the high slit of her gown, moving up to the lacy tops of her thigh high stockings. "Fuck me, Frankie, you are such a sexy thing. If you'd worn these back in Massachusetts I might have risked jail, I think..." She laughed into his mouth and slid further to the edge to make his access easier.

"I would never have turned you in..." She whispered in his ear, and then darted the tip of her tongue inside. He moaned, and then she felt the tug and heard a ripping sound as he tore her lacy panties off. He crumped the torn, wet panties in one hand and held them to his nose, his eyes boring into hers. She sighed, heart racing, as a fierce blush suffused her cheeks. He stuffed the tattered garment into his pocket and then once again reached beneath her dress. She froze gripping his arms.

"Jake - STOP!" Her eyes were anxious and wide in her face. His heart sank as he began to pull away from her. It must all be too much, too fast.

"I'm sorry Frankie - "he began.

"No!" She was laughing as she pulled him back. "I was just going to tell you to go lock the door, you dope!" Jake felt elated and redeemed, and fairly flew to the door, shutting and locking it. As he was about to return to her, he paused, and took a wooden chair and set it beneath the doorknob.

Frankie laughed out loud - but her voice was almost immediately muffled by his mouth as he crushed her against his body once again.

He blazed a trail of kisses down the side of her neck, nipping her skin with his teeth. She groaned as her body trembled under his hands. Jake reached inside her dress, moving his strong fingers up the inside of her thigh. He could feel the heat emanating from her wet core. She could feel herself pulsating with the want of him. Brushing the knuckle of his index finger along her outer lips, he watched her face as she gasped, her eyes heavy-lidded. She was moving toward his hand, her need evident. It made him feel like a god to know that she desired him so much.

"Frankie, the woman you've become is even more beautiful - even sexier - than the dream I've been carrying around all these years." Her eyes focused back on his, and she expelled a breath that conveyed her excitement. He continued to tease her lightly with one finger.

He continued, his look intense: "I wish I'd been your first..."

"So do I!" She exclaimed. "I wanted it to be you. Why wasn't it you?!" He kissed her fervently, jealous of the others who had been this close to her. A consoling thought occurred to him, and he pressed his lips to her forehead before continuing.

"It's okay, angel, because I'll be your last, if you'll let me." He looked into her eyes, and saw her completely pure and unguarded expression. It looked like the thing he'd been seeking most of his life. It looked like love.

"God, I want you." He murmured, as he pushed his finger inside her tender cleft. Her head fell back and she let forth a sound that was half moan, half scream. His mouth came down on hers, silencing the noise she was making.

"You're so wet, my baby." He growled as he stroked her - at first gently, and then more urgently. She clung to his shoulders, thrusting her body up to meet his motion. The climax was building inside her already - she willed it even while she was afraid of it. He marveled at how sensual she was - how responsive to his touch. It was like they'd been lovers all along. As if their bodies shared muscle memory of how to please one another. Jake knew somehow, for example, that if he pressed her clit with his thumb as he pumped his finger inside her, he could accelerate her orgasm. He pushed his tongue into her sweet mouth with the same rhythm. She was about to come apart, and that thrilled him beyond words. The idea that he could bring her such pleasure filled him with excitement, and something akin to a fierce protectiveness. Jake shivered a little to realize that he would kill for this woman. He would go to the ends of the earth.

"Will you cum for me, my Frankie?" He whispered into her mouth. She breathed out a sound similar to yes - but it was as if she was beyond speech.

"Then do it baby, do it now." He commanded.

Frankie screamed into his mouth as her body bucked under him. He had to hold her up or she'd have fallen off of the make-up table. Bottles and objects on its surface tumbled over as violent tremors overtook her. Jake felt her muscles contracting around his fingers, accompanied by a flood of wetness. In his head, he could hear the sound of violins. The composition was forming itself.

As she began to quiet, he leaned away to look down at her flushed, ethereally beautiful face. She was still in the throes, but seemingly now slipping into that calm pool of pleasure after the storm. He wanted to remember the expression in her eyes for the rest of his life. Cellos had begun to moan softly, accompanied by singular, drawn out cords on the piano.

Frankie watched him in awe. She'd never achieved an orgasm like this before - not even close. She understood why the French called it "the little death" - but to her it was more like being born. In her head, a pair of female voices hummed in tight harmony, moving slowly up the scale. She could imagine this as the introduction to a song about finding true love.

As she looked adoringly into his mesmerizing ice blue eyes, he dislodged himself from inside her and slipped his index finger into his mouth. Frankie was amazed at how wet she'd made his hand, and when she heard the loud groan of pleasure he made at the taste of her, a vivid blush stained her cheeks. A base drum inside her was beating a rhythm that sounded a lot like her heartbeat.

"Jake..." She began hesitantly. He hummed in reply, patiently waiting for her to find her courage. For some reason, she wasn't able to look at him while she struggled for the right words.

"That's never happened to me before - never like that. Never with someone else."

"What, my darling?" His voice was deep and soft. He smoothed her hair back and she found herself leaning into his hand. It gave her the courage to finish the thought.

"No one has ever made me - cum - before. You are the first." She stammered, rather embarrassed to be making such an admission. At his sharp intake of breath, she met his eyes, and the look of wonder and pride in them was thrilling. He captured her mouth in a deep kiss. She could taste herself on his lips. It turned her on.

When he lifted his head to look at her again, his face was fierce, like a predator. He smiled wickedly and ground out between his teeth: "And that was just my finger..." He took her hand in his and pressed it to his aching erection. Frankie cried out "Oh my god!" when she felt the rock hard thickness of him through his jeans. Her gloves were still on - so she began to tug them off.

She paused - something was amiss. The real music - the outside music from the band - it was stopped.

Looking up at Jake with alarm, she said: "The music—" Realization dawned on him then, too.

"Fuck." He touched her forehead with his and sighed in frustration. "Will they come back here—"

The both jumped as a loud knock sounded on Frankie's door. It might as well have been a gunshot.

"Frankie - Hey, girl - is everything alright?" It was Chance. Frankie was flustered and ashamed of herself for missing almost the entire first half of the show.

Untangling herself from Jake, she straightened her clothes and quickly did the best she could with her hair. He likewise made an attempt at addressing his disheveled appearance. Chance knocked again, this time sounding more insistent.

"Frankie?" A slight note of worry was in his voice.

She managed to move the chair away and unlocked the door, glancing back at Jake apologetically before opening it. Chance leaned in a little and looked her over, the lines of concern etched in his brow morphed into understanding, and finally amusement.

"Damn, woman. Whach'yall been doin' in here, huh?" His smirk would be annoying if it wasn't so funny.

"You're not Southern, Chance, you're from New Jersey." She drawled.

He laughed out loud and cocked an eyebrow. Looking knowingly at Jake, he reached out a hand and stepped into the room. "Hi there, I'm Chance. Nice to meet you." He actually winked at him.

"Jake. Jake Garner - it's, uh, nice to meet you, too. I loved your set." Jake shook his hand warmly despite his obvious embarrassment.

"Thanks, thanks, man. It's nice to meet a friend of Frankie's... Wait! Jake Garner? As in the composer?" Chance looked at him with greater interest, and then turned his gaze on Frankie, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline.

Before Jake could reply, Frankie interrupted: "Yes, yes - that's the one. Chance - I'm really sorry for disappearing like that. Did the rest of the set go okay?" Her guilt was evident on her face. She was literally wringing her hands.

Chance was stunned at this turn of events. He didn't even know that Frankie had such a lofty friend - more than a friend, obviously. But at some level he was happy to see this very human side of her at last.

"Don't sweat it, Princess. There's a first time for everything." He didn't understand what he'd said, but whatever it was, Frankie's face flushed beet red, and she shot a quick look toward Jake, who tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh behind his hand.

Since neither of them seemed prepared to say any more, he continued: "Listen, Doll Face, we've got another fifteen minutes or so left on our break. So are you going to be ready to come back on then?"

Frankie nodded, smiling gratefully that he wasn't mad at her. To Jake, he said: "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Jake." As he was about to turn away, he stopped and swung back around, saying: "Hey! Are you the person from Vanguard Studios who came to hear us tonight?"

Frankie's head snapped up - she'd forgotten all about that. She looked slowly over at Jake, and found his eyes on her. She tilted her head to the side in silent inquiry. Jake's mouth came together in a firm line. He answered, but never took his eyes from Frankie's.

"I'm not sure how you heard about that - but as it happens, yes. I am here for Vanguard. Maybe we can all discuss this when the show is over?" Jake didn't like the way Frankie was frowning. He knew he'd have to explain more thoroughly.

Chance, meanwhile, was exuberant. "Yes, you bet. I'd be delighted. We'll come find you when we finish up. Anyhow, I'm gonna go break with the guys. See you out there, Frankie."

After Chance shut the door behind him, Frankie stayed where she was. She was now staring at the floor, her mind working through something.

Jake went to her, and lifted her chin so she'd look at him.

"There is a story I have to share with you, Angel, about Vanguard. Yes, the studio sent me. But they did it because I told them I wanted to see you. It's a long story, but it's a good story. One that I hope has a very happy ending." Jake carefully gathered her against him. She let him, and her body relaxed against his. He could see she was still very confused - so much had happened so fast. His heart was pounding - he couldn't risk losing her again. Not now.