The Bad Boy Next Door

Jo lay on Frank's couch, channel surfing, while Frank worked on his novel in his study. She knew that he had to work, but still, Jo was bored. She wanted him touching her every minute, his body never too far away from hers.

"Anything good on the telly?"

Jo looked up to see Frank leaning in the doorway of the living room, his arms crossed in front of him, his head tilted slightly, with a look on his face that made Jo glad she wasn't trying to stand.

"No. And I thought you were working."

"I needed a break."

"Hungry?"

Frank chuckled. "Something like that. C'mere, kitten."

Jo got up, walking to him slowly, seductively. She stopped a little bit in front of him, reaching out to drape her arms over his shoulders. "Do you want something?"

Frank's eyes darkened. "Yeah, I do," he said, putting one arm around her waist and pulling her until she was flush against him.

"And what would that be?" Jo asked, struggling to keep her voice from trembling.

Frank leaned down, pressing his lips against her ear. "I want to fuck you," he said hotly, rubbing against her.

Jo whimpered, and Frank picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom. He went with her down onto the bed, Jo moaning as he covered her body with his. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. She needed his body, needed him to make her feel the way only he could.

"Jo…I love you."

Frank's words hit Jo like a splash of cold water. She pushed him off her, scrambling to get off the bed.

"Jo?"

"What…what did you just say?"

Frank almost lied to her, told her that he'd said something else, or said that it had simply been a heat of the moment thing, and he hadn't meant it. But he couldn't. Despite the fact he knew from the look on Jo's face that things were about to get ugly, he wasn't going to lie to her about what he felt. "I said I love you."

"No. No, you don't. You…you can't."

"I do."

Jo turned away, not being able to take the way he was looking at her. "No…"

Frank got up, taking her chin in his hand and turning her face back to look at him. "No, look at me. I love you. You're all I think about, dream about. You're in my gut, my throat. I'm drowning in you, Jordan. I'm drowning in you."

Jo pulled away from him. "No! You can't love me! You can't! I…I'm married, Frank."
"This, with you, is wrong. I know it. I'm not a complete idiot. You think I like having you in here? Do you think I like loving you when I know I can't have you? When I say 'I love you,' it's not because I want you or I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. It's you. I love you."

"You weren't supposed to love me," Jo said, starting to cry. "This wasn't supposed to be about love. It was supposed to be about feeling."

"And I do feel something. Jo, I…"

"No! Stop it!" Jo starting hitting his chest, sobbing. "Don't love me! You're not supposed to!"

Frank grabbed Jo's fists, and she struggled for a second before slumping against him. "I'm sorry," he said, stroking her hair. Jo started to relax against him, but then she stiffened again and pulled away.

"I can't. I…I have to go."

"No, please," Frank begged. "I won't say it anymore. I'll just make you feel. I can do that, Jo. I can do anything you want me to. Just don't leave me, pet. Not like this. Please…" Frank started to cry, but he didn't care. He couldn't take her walking out on him.

"I just…I just need to be alone right now. I'm sorry." Jo ran out of the room.

Frank sat back on the bed as he heard his front door slam. He didn't go after her. He simply let himself feel his world fall apart again.