What Money Can't Buy Ch. 07

I wake up alone in bed, but I can't help the smile that spreads across my lips as I adjust to the early morning light. Today is the day. Francesca is finally moving in. It's only been a few days since she agreed, but Rose and Cheryl were keen to have the bedroom of the flat and I was eager to not miss another night with her in my arms. She argued with me last night about it over the phone. She wanted to wait until she had a day off so she can pack up and use my car to move in shifts, and I wanted to hire a mover. After an hour of cajoling, she finally agreed when Rose barged into her room. I could hear her threaten to have loud sex with Cheryl in all their free time if she didn't accept my offer. I could almost hear Francesca's shy smile when she agreed, and I quickly rented a van and made arrangements with a couple of teens from the community center. They were excited to have the work, so it was a win-win. Luckily, she didn't have much stuff of her own, especially since my place was furnished already. Rose offered to help them gather all of Francesca's stuff, and the wheels were set in motion. Francesca should be done at work around nine, and I'm picking her up to bringing her home with me. Progress.

I roll out of bed and get dressed. I'm working at Bowen's all morning, but Jamie is going to help me with a surprise for Francesca before I pick her up. I want to make her feel at home here, so I had a photo of the two of us, one of her and Rose, and one of her and her mother blown up and framed. I wanted to leave the one with her mum up to her, but I was going to hang the one of her and Rose in the kitchen, so she could admire it when she cooked, and the one of the two of us I put above my bed. Our bed. I also went to my friend's gallery and bought the Amelia Murphy piece that Francesca and I discussed the night I met her. I may have loved her, even then. I hope she likes it.

But the big surprise was two-fold. Jamie was helping me turn my library/office into an office just for Francesca. She'll need one once she becomes a restauranteur and she likes working in a quite space, so I think it will be perfect. I want to show her how much I support her, and I like the idea of the flat set up like this- our room, a room for our guests, a room for the band, and a room for her dreams, too. It's all we could ever need. So, I am enlisting Jamie's help to make the room more feminine and specific to Francesca, and then to help me make a passable dinner- a creamy thyme and chestnut soup, Francesca's self-proclaimed favorite.

I am nervous as I drive to pick Francesca up- I keep having to wipe my hands on my jeans. Everything is ready for her. The guys unloaded her belongings and the soup is made. Jamie and I worked hard to pick out furniture and artwork that we thought Francesca would like for the office. I had the walls painted a green color that reminds me of her eyes, and we included a slate grey accent wall where I thought we could hang the Murphy piece. The colours will really pop. I stocked the bookshelves with Francesca's favorites as well as the classics and bestsellers of the last few years that were already in there. What if she hates it? Or will she be angry about the money I spent?

I pull up in front of the restaurant just as Francesca's shining face wanders out of the front door, and I instantly feel calmer. She climbs into the car and I kiss her quickly before peeling out back onto the road. "In a hurry?" she teases me.

"I want to get you home- to our home," I mutter sheepishly.

"You're really excited about this, aren't you?" she says, genuine surprise in her voice.

Why would she think I wasn't? "Absolutely. I've never been so happy about anything," I make eye contact with her for a moment before refocusing on the road.

Out of the corner of my eye I see her lips lift in a small smile. "Oh, I didn't realize," it's her turn to be sheepish.

"How could you not realize? You are the brightest part of my life," I say back, surprised by her insecurity. She smiles wider. "Aren't you excited?"

With all of her hesitancy the last few days, I assumed she would falter here, but there was no hesitancy in her quick response, "I'm ecstatic." Now it's my turn to grin broadly. We chat about our days for the rest of the ride, but by the time we get to the garage, I can't hide my nerves from Francesca. "Are you okay? You're sweating a lot..." she asks.

I park and smile nervously at her. "Come, I have some surprises upstairs," I wipe my hand on my jeans again before reaching for hers and pulling her into the lift.

"Surprises, huh?" she looks up at me mischievously, and I wipe my brow as the doors close. "Love, relax! I'm just happy to be taking this step with you. I don't need any surprises."

Her words relax me. I lean down and really kiss her for the first time today, and my anxieties melt away. "I love you," I say, and go to press my forehead against hers, but she pulls away.

"Baby, sorry, but you're sweating- a lot," she grins up at me and I let out a deep belly laugh just as the doors ping open.

I walk her to the door, but before I unlock it, I pull an extra set of keys from my pocket. "For you," I hold them up, and she smiles wide and takes them from me.

She examines the saxophone key chain I put on them and smiles, "The horn makes it," she says wistfully, and I pull her in for another kiss. She got the joke. I love this woman.

I turn and open the door, pulling her inside. Jamie and I hung twinkle lights throughout the apartment, and when we walk in Francesca gasps. "You haven't seen anything yet, baby," I wink at her. She's grinning like an idiot and it makes me so happy. "Come on." We wander deeper into the apartment and Francesca notices the photo of her and Rose. She doesn't say anything, but she squeezes my arm. "I put up one of us in the bedroom," I tell her, "and I had this printed as well. I thought you'd like to choose where to hang it." I hand her the photo of her mum with her.

Tears swim in her eyes, and I raise my thumb to her cheek to catch the first one as it falls. "Oh, Reggie. This is so sweet." She's floored. She sets the photo down on the counter and hugs me, hard.

"We're not done," I say quietly before kissing her hair.

She looks up at me quizzically, "We're not?"

I laugh and shake my head before directing her to the spare room. Before I open the door, I tell her my thoughts. "I want you to know that I support your dreams. And once you open a restaurant, you're going to be bringing your work home. So, I thought you could use a home office," I open the door and press against the small of her back to direct her into the room. Her jaw is slack as she takes everything in.

She walks to the bookshelves and fingers a few spines. "Wow," she whispers, then turns and sees the Amelia Murphy painting sitting against the grey wall. She gasps and looks over at me, her eyes teary again. "You didn't..." she puts her hand up to her mouth and covers a sob and a growing smile, "I can't believe you bought it!"

I can't tell if she is happy or upset and my entire body is tense. "You like it?" I ask nervously, and she rapidly shakes her head up and down before grabbing my face and pulling me into an intense kiss.

She breaks away for a moment, "I love it, Reggie. It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me," she says genuinely before kissing me again. I relax and pull her against me, kissing her back with fervor. "I love you so much," she whispers against my lips, and I realize this may be the happiest moment I can remember.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, wanting to see what she thinks of the soup. Please- you just want more praise. You're eating this up. I chuckle inwardly at my own thoughts.

"Starving," Francesca responds, but her voice is low, and I note the lust in her eyes. Oh, a different kind of hungry. I think the soup can wait.

I decide to tease her a bit. "What are you craving?" I ask seductively.

"I think you know," she bites her lip and her fingers find their way to my cock, fondling it through my trousers.

"Let me see what I can do about that," I growl against her mouth and roughly grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. She reciprocates, and we're skin on skin as we embrace. I reach around her and unclip her bra, freeing her glorious tits as she kisses me again.

I reach for her button, but before I get there, Francesca sinks down to her knees and starts unbuckling my belt. Blimey. In record time, my trousers are on the ground and I'm awkwardly kicking off my shoes, pulling off my socks and stepping from them and my boxers. Francesca looks up at me as she wraps her delicate fingers around me and pumps a few times. Without breaking eye contact, she starts to slide me into her mouth, and I breathe in sharply, blown away by the delectable warmth of her tight little mouth. Her lips surround my head, but I feel her tongue dancing around me. She gives brilliant head, and I intend to savor this. This went better than I imagined. Her lips are absolutely vacuum sealed around my shaft and I'm already breathing heavily. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensations as she takes more of me into her, swiping her tongue along the base as she travels. I hit the back of her throat and she pulls back, and my skin tugs backwards by her lips.

She pops me out of her mouth and starts licking me all over, and I refocus on her as she worships my cock. She fondles my balls and licks all over, swiping around the head and kissing me at the base of my shaft. It's highly erotic watching her work. Suddenly, she leans down and sucks one of my balls into her hot, wet mouth and circles it with her tongue. "Fuck, Francesca," I whisper, and she backs off. She returns to my shaft and takes me into her mouth again, less tightly this time, and works on lubing me up with her saliva. She gets a good clip going, her hand working where her mouth can't reach. I'm already getting close and I really want to fuck her. I grab her hair to pull her off me, but she resists. If she wants it this way, who am I to deny her? She continues sucking on me with renewed fervor, moaning and sending vibrations straight through my cock to my balls. They are churning and I'm trying to stave off my release so I can keep enjoying the pleasure. Suddenly, her teeth lightly scrape me as she slides me into her mouth, and I lose control, taken by surprise. "OH GOD!" I cry as I shoot the first rope of cum into her throat. I moan as she swallows and keeps sucking, milking me for every drop. I finish, and the tension has completely left my body.

I grab her hair and roughly pull her back up to standing, slinking my free arm around her and kissing her deeply. She swoons into me and I can feel her hard nipples against my chest. "Good lord, Francesca, what did I do to deserve you?" I ask her.

"Look around, Reggie," she gestures to the room and smiles wide, "Why are you so good to me?"

I run my nose over her neck, "Because I love you, my darling, my dearest, I love you. You're the one I want nearest," I croon the classic Buddy Holly tune to her as I kiss her neck.

"Oh, I'd rather die thinking you love me than to go through life without you," she sings back, and I smile. God, she is perfect.

She starts to pull away to dress, but I hug her tighter into me. "I'm not through with you yet," I say sexily against her lips, kissing her again. I can already feel my cock stirring. She does things to me. I do a quick scan of the room. "Where should I take you," I ask lasciviously.

Her eyes meet mine and they have a naughty glint in them. "Desk."

You don't have to ask me twice. I pull away and make short work of her pants and knickers, quickly pulling them down and allowing her to kick off her own shoes. I pull her socks off and kiss my way back up her gorgeous naked body. "You are fit as fuck, Francesca," I say against her thigh before I gently kiss her center. My cock is quickly growing again at the sight and smell of her. I want to christen this room, but first I want to make her cum with my mouth. I start licking, but suddenly she's grabbing my hair and pulling me up for a kiss.

"Get inside me," she says against my neck as she nibbles me. Yes, please. I turn her around so her back is facing me and push her forward a few feet so she's standing in front of the desk. The height of the desk is perfect for Francesca. I push into her back so that she leans over and presses her chest on the dark wood, the sides of her breasts bulging out. I smack her ass, hard. She lets out a low moan. Fuck, this is hot. We may have to role-play teacher and naughty student in here. But I can't wait anymore- I need to bury myself in her. I step between her legs and use my feet to spread them wider, opening her up for me. My fingers glaze over her sex, and she is dripping wet. I smirk and line up before I slowly sink into her, groaning at her tightness. I want to take this slow and enjoy the look of her spread across this desk, in her office. I set a punishingly slow rhythm and start to massage her ass cheeks. She tries to speed me up by pressing back into me, but I'm having none of it. "Grab the other end of the desk," I instruct her, and she does as I say, which effectively blocks her from rocking with me.

I lean forward and kiss her shoulders, lightly nibbling here and there. "Mmmh, Reggie that feels good," she coos beneath me, and I bite her harder, causing her to yelp. "Fuck me faster," she begs, but I ignore her, maintain my rhythm as I lift back up and run my hands along the smooth, spotless skin of her back. It feels so good being wrapped in this amazing woman's pussy, and I could be here all day. I continue pounding, letting both of our pleasure build higher and higher. Occasionally I lean forward and kiss her. Soon, she's begging me, "Please Reggie, faster, I want to cum. Please, baby," she murmurs. This time, I acquiesce. I wrap her ponytail around my wrist and roughly pull her head back as I start slamming into her, the desk shaking beneath us. "Oh yes! Yes! Ahh.. Ahh.. AHHH!" she loses it and her pussy clenches down around me as a tremor runs through her body and she cums hard.

Her walls are absolutely milking me. I pump a few more times before I follow, nutting deep inside of her and screaming her name. I collapse onto her and we catch our breath together. Eventually we stand, and suddenly I'm laughing. She looks at me like I'm crazy, "What?".

"I never imagined we'd christen this room so quickly," I lace my fingers behind my head and smile. She blushes and I watch her survey the room once again.

"This is incredibly thoughtful," she says, pressing up on her toes to kiss me again. "Can I hang that painting in here?" she asks.

"It's your choice, my dear. This room is for you, and so is the painting," I wrap her in my arms.

"I love it." She hugs me back.

I remember the soup. "Are you hungry?" I ask again, kissing the top of her head.

She looks up at me, shocked at first, but then her eyes are hooded. "Again?" she asks sensually, and I can't help but laugh- this woman is insatiable. "What?"

"I meant for food," I shake my head at her, "Come on, one last surprise."
Her eyes widen, then she smiles with me. "Alright, let me clean up and grab my robe. I'll meet you in the kitchen." She grabs her clothes and scampers away. Smiling, I throw my boxers on and gather my clothes as well. I head to our room and drop them in the hamper before turning back to the kitchen to warm up the soup.

I'm dishing it into bowls with a ladle, and suddenly Francesca is behind me, her hands wrapped around my waist. "Oh my god, you didn't!" she says excitedly before squeezing me.

"Creamy chestnut and thyme," I respond, my smile widening as I pull her arms from me and pick up the bowls, placing them on the placemats I set out earlier on the bar. I light the candle and grab two beers from the fridge.

We sit and I watch as Francesca digs in. She closes her eyes and lets out a low moan. "Reggie, this is delicious! Did you make this?" she sounds proud but skeptical.

"I had some help," I admit, trying the soup myself. It really was delicious.

"Jamie?" Francesca asks me with a raised eyebrow.

Damn, she's good. "How'd you know?" I answer incredulously.

"She's the only one of your friends who knows her way around a kitchen," she smiles brightly at me and takes another spoonful. "This is so thoughtful of you. I can't believe you."

I smile back, "I want you to feel at home."

"You didn't have to do all of this, though," she gestures to the soup and the lights, "I always feel at home when I'm with you."

I couldn't stop my grin if I tried. She always knows the perfect thing to say.

I'm on my way to pick the band up for our gig tonight. I had an incredible night with Francesca- we christened the bed that is now ours, and we were up far too late. The poor girl has shifts at both restaurants today. I wish she could come to the show. It had been at least a month since Francesca made it to one of our gigs; she seriously works too hard.

My daydreaming is interrupted when Riggs hops in the front seat, and we chat on our way to pick up the rest of the group. We arrive at the club about an hour early- enough time to grab a drink and relax before soundcheck. I follow behind Jessie into the club, and we head to the bar. I order a pint and start chatting Jessie up about her day. The opening band is playing, and we're forced to speak loudly. She's telling me that it looks like she may not have a job for long- the restaurant where she serves is having money problems. "The owner is in serious debt- a gambling addict. I don't know how long we can stay open," she explains and sips her cocktail.

"Blimey, that's horrible," I offer, "I know how much you love that job, and your coworkers."

Jessie is about to respond, but she stops and furrows her brow. "I thought you said Francesca wasn't coming tonight?" she questions me.

"What? She isn't..." I start, but then I feel slender arms wrapping around me and squeezing me tightly. "Francesca?" her name stumbles from my lips with confusion as I turn to look at her- she looks upset. Concern instantly flows through me. Did something happen to her? Why isn't she at work? My wheels are spinning as I wrap my arms around her. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at work?" I ask emphatically as I pull her into me, my anxiety blooming. "What's wrong?"

She looks up at me and kisses me deeply before pulling back and answering me. "I quit," she says nervously, her eyes searching mine.

Finally. I can't help my wayward happy thoughts, but I push them away to focus on her again. "Why? Did something happen? Are you okay?" I am pleading her for some answers. She's watching me intently. We're both quiet for a second, and I think she is gathering the courage to tell me. "I can barely hear you in here, let's go outside," I say as I direct us toward the door. In a few moments we're standing in the cool night air.

It's my turn to watch her. She flushes under my gaze and rolls her plump bottom lip between her teeth before she finally starts talking. "I couldn't stop thinking about how romantic you were last night. And how loved I felt. I want you to feel that way, too. So, I thought I could try and show you, um, how I feel- do something romantic." I swallow, listening intently. "So, all of the sudden I just... I just quit and before I knew it, I was on my way here. I didn't think about it, I just did it. And now I am absolutely panicking," she's obviously worried about my reaction, and I can hear the fear in her voice.