I'm back. I'm hoping anyone is still interested in this story. Sorry it's been a bit. I re-read this piece the other day and just got sucked back into it. Let me know what you think and if you still care. Thank you everyone.
Frankie's apartment was pretty much just how Chloe imagined it; clean, plain and linear. It was direct and logical, much like Frankie herself- no frills. The space didn't have much personality, unlike Chloe's quaint home or the relaxed vibe of the frat house. The white, undecorated walls and beige furniture were meant to serve the purpose of a living space and not anything beyond that.
This fact didn't keep Chloe from exploring.
"Speechless, eh?" Frankie joked, taking Chloe's jacket and hanging it up on the plain, black rack behind the door.
"I'm just taking it all in…" Chloe answered without looking, eyes still roaming the living room and deciding what to check out next.
These kinds of things mattered to Chloe; what a place said about a person, the feel and energy that they emitted. To Frankie, it was just a space in time. It was where she lived, not who she was. She appreciated Chloe's wonder regardless.
"I'll leave you to it, then," Frankie smiled at the woman, taking off her shoes and heading toward a small hallway. Chloe didn't even notice that she'd left.
Couch. Loveseat. Armchair. Each piece of tan furniture looked practically new. Unloved, Chloe thought. It was apparent that Frankie didn't spend much time relaxing at home. There was a television in the corner, a good size for the room without being showy. Chloe found herself wondering when the last time was it had been turned on.
Through the living room, Chloe spotted a small kitchen off to the right. Her eyes lit up with excitement. Living rooms could be left neglected but the kitchen had to be used, right?
Wrong.
White tile floor. Oak cabinets. Good quality oven and stove that looked nearly new.
Was this a stage house?
The refrigerator was a beacon of hope. Chloe had every intention of rummaging through it in order to judge it's contents, regardless of how rude and forward that was.
Something stopped her.
A photograph, haphazardly taped to the front of the fridge. AKA, the only personality that she had seen in the apartment thus far. She rushed to it.
Chloe gasped.
The photo was of herself and Frankie from almost two months ago, when they had gone to the club with Gail and Andy and retreated to Chloe's apartment for the night. Frankie was shown sitting on the couch, Chloe on the floor at her feet. They were leaning in to each other, staring into each other's eyes with beaming smiles. It looked like love.
Chloe had never seen the picture before, didn't even know it existed until that moment. She felt Frankie's presence enter the kitchen silently but she couldn't pull her teary, emotion-filled eyes away from the picture in front of her- and how much it meant to her that it was hanging up in Frankie's kitchen.
"Where did you get this?" Chloe asked, her voice coming out soft and crackling with awe.
"Hmm…" Frankie mused, smile audible, placing her hands gently on Chloe's hips and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Peck took it that night after the club. She was planning to give it to you but the night I got sloppy drunk she gave it to me instead," she admitted, holding on to Chloe and wishing that she could read her thoughts. "She said that I needed it more right then and that one day you and I could share it," she chuckled, remembering Gail's attempt at sweetness.
"It's beautiful…" Chloe said, leaning her head into Frankie without pulling her gaze from the photo.
"You're beautiful," Frankie grinned, nuzzling Chloe's ear with her nose.
"It's the only thing up in your apartment," Chloe noted, turning enough to look Frankie fully in the eyes.
"It's the only thing that mattered."
Chloe was known for being an emotional, passionate person. She felt fully and without regret and this moment was no exception. The difference was the array of things that she was feeling simultaneously, swirling together and surging into an overwhelming electricity.
Their lips met so hard that Frankie was propelled stumbling backwards, her back pressed against the door frame and Chloe's body pressed against her. Chloe's hands tangled into Frankie's strawberry blond hair, clenching into fists and pulling the woman further into her. Once Frankie regained her composure, she tightened her grip on Chloe's hips and pulled them together, holding her there as they kissed slowly and deliberately.
"I love it," Chloe rasped out, fingertips sliding under the collar of Frankie's dress shirt, seeking out her warm skin.
"I gathered," Frankie grinned back, mid-kiss.
"Take your shirt off," Chloe demanded, all playfulness gone and squelched by the overpowering passion she felt.
Frankie didn't have to be told twice. She did, however, take too long to come out of her arousal-laden stupor at Chloe's words, so Chloe began working the buttons herself. She roughly untucked the shirt from Frankie's dress pants, having no regard for the garments. Frankie couldn't bring herself to care, too busy yanking Chloe's tee shirt over her head and dropping it at their feet.
"Too bad you didn't see the picture a month ago," Frankie joked, watching as Chloe finished unbuttoning her shirt and stared at her hungrily.
"Frankie?" Chloe asked, almost sweetly, as she backed the woman into the living room and in the direction of the couch.
"Hmm?" she asked, being pushed onto the cushion and pulling Chloe down to straddle her hips.
"Stop talking."
It was a demand. It was raw and harsh and not at all what the detective would have imagined coming from the girl. Frankie struggled with the flash of arousal in her gut at the sound. She was wide-eyed, staring as Chloe ran her hands down her sides, across her ribs. Speechless.
Frankie gazed into big, brown eyes as she ran her hands from Chloe's shoulder blades down to her hips, sliding them to meet her own anything but subtly. She watched as Chloe's eyes fluttered shut, mouth opening with a breath as she took in the sensation. Chloe stopped the movement of her hands entirely, dipping her head forward and biting her lip, trying to contain the overwhelming desire rushing through her body.
Leaning up to Chloe's ear, Frankie nudged it with her nose before dragging her lip across the shell.
"Chloe?" she whispered, directly disobeying her command to shut up.
Chloe could not respond. The feeling of Frankie's hands running up and down her thighs, pulling their hips together with each sweep, had her mind fogged.
"Do you realise how sexy you are?" Frankie asked quietly, moving her mouth to Chloe's throat, lips ghosting over her pulse point before settling on her bullet scar.
She kissed the sensitive scar tissue gently, brushing her lips over it tentatively before pulling Chloe into her body again, running her hands around the waistband of her jeans and allowing her fingertips to dip just under it. Chloe's breath was already ragged, clinging to Frankie roughly as her hips began to grind against the woman independently.
Frankie pulled away just far enough to be able to look at Chloe's face, lips parted, eyes slammed shut. She already appeared to be teetering on the edge and they still had most of their clothes on. It was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. She caught a glimpse of Chloe's scar, slightly pink from her mouth and melding into the blush that was covering Chloe's skin. She leaned in again, kissing the spot before dragging her teeth over it.
Chloe cried out loudly, grasping Frankie's thigh with one hand, her shoulder with the other, hips moving uncontrollably as the wave of pleasure hit her suddenly, surprising and unprecedented. She buried her face into Frankie's neck as she clung to the woman, shocked and slightly embarrassed by her body's surrender. Frankie held her close, smoothing down her hair and rubbing her back as she attempted to calm down.
"Fuck…." Chloe breathed out heavily, still hiding against the skin of Frankie's throat.
"We didn't even get to," Frankie drawled back with a smirk, causing Chloe to sit up quickly and look into her eyes, embarrassed but also amused.
"Ah-" Chloe stuttered out, wishing to argue or come up with any sort of retort and failing, still too engulfed in the passion she was feeling a moment ago. "You-I mean, it's…."
"Hey…" Frankie interrupted, brushing the hair out of Chloe's eyes and running her thumb along Chloe's jawline. "I'm just kidding, Muppet. I wasn't trying to embarrass you," she promised, speaking so softly and genuinely that Chloe forgot her humiliation.
"I- I never…" Chloe furrowed her brow, trying to find the words. She slid off of Frankie's lap and up against her side as Frankie held her close. "That was fucking crazy."
Not her most eloquent moment, but it would suffice.
Frankie chuckled, kissing the top of Chloe's head.
"Imagine what it'll be like when I actually get to touch you," she whispered in Chloe's ear, enjoying the full-body shudder that it evoked.
"I can't," Chloe said honestly. "What if we never even get that far? What if I keep having orgasms thirty hot seconds after we start making out and we never get to actually do it? Then you won't even want to kiss me anymore, and we definitely won't ever be able to kiss in public. It's like I'm a twelve year old boy!"
Chloe was back.