Except we hadn’t fucked. I’d lost count of the times I made her come since dinner last night, and I didn’t think I’d ever get enough. Of the sounds she made as she climaxed. Or the rush of desire over my tongue when she came on my face. Or?—
“Brakkor? You’re worrying me.”
I shook my head and forced myself to plop right back down in the beach chair to hide my erection. For weeks, my cock had ached for release, remembering my night with her. But right now, I just ached to pleasure her, and what the fuck was up with that?
Now, she dropped her hands to her hips—her delicious, leggings-enclosed hips—and frowned at me. “Earth to Brakkor? We had a plan for today, right? Because I can tell you’re thinking about the bedroom.”
She knew me well.
But my smile faded as I explained the car dilemma to her, and so did hers. She chewed on her lower lip, wrapped her arms around her middle, and sank down into the other beach chair—I really needed to find some furniture for the apartment, didn’t I?
Finally, she sighed. “I don’t know what to do. My instinct is to pay for the new part, just to keep the car going, because I need to drive to work…but then I remember I don’thavework anymore.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m going to need to find a new job in order to pay rent and groceries, and my lease is up in a month, and?—”
It was thedefeatin her tone which broke me. I was upright and reaching for her before I realized what I was doing. When I lifted her from the chair, she went willingly, burying her face against my chest and wrapping her arms around my middle.
I bent slightly to rest my chin on top of her head, and myKteerpurred at the rightness of this feeling. Still, I knew I couldn’t tell her it was going to be okay. I couldn’t promise that, as much as I wanted—needed—to, because I didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, Joss,” I finally said, because it was all I could offer. “I don’t have answers, but I know you don’t have to decide right now.”
Her, “I mean, I kinda do,” was muffled against my chest. “If he’s going to order the part and get it in place.”
Yeah, but I could appreciate what having a vacation from responsibilities meant—both for Jocelyn and for me, who was enjoying the hells out of her vacation. So I took a deep breath, loving the way I could smell my shampoo on her.
“Let’s not think of it today. I’ll drive you over to Mr. Frapp’s house, and then we can do a late lunch, and I’ll give you a tour of the island.”
She stirred enough to tip her head back. “Can we go to the beach? I packed my bathing suit, but the most beach-time I got was the wedding.”
That had only been Friday night, hadn’t it? I shrugged. “I’ve never been a fan of the beach.”
Her brows dipped down. “What? You live on an island!”
“I grew up in the mountains. You know how weird it was to not see snow this winter? First time in my life.” I didn’t exactly miss it, because I was never into winter sports, like Jay was, but it was still strange.
When I noticed the little dip between her brows, and something like disappointment flickering in her honey-brown eyes, I squeezed her. “Hey, I didn’t say no. I’ll dig out some towels, and you can change my mind about the beach.”
It took a moment for her to understand what I was saying, and the look of disappointment slowly shifted to consideration. She cocked her head and stared up at me.
“You really do just say what you feel, don’t you? You don’t worry about politeness or niceties or other people’s feelings, do you?”
My chest grew warm, but not in a good way, and I loosened my hold on her. “Never saw much use for it. I’m an asshole, Joss, and that’s?—”
“No, you’re not.” She squeezed me once more, then stepped back, a small grin on her lips as she peered up at me. “You’re just blunt. And because youaretruthful about what you’re thinking or feeling, it means that you agreeing to go to the beach for me is special. You really mean it.”
I frowned, not understanding. “Of course I mean it. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, would I?” When she continued to smile up at me, I scoffed and shook my head, then swatted her ass. “Go get your stuff. I’m going to change.”
Instead of listening, she trailed me into the bedroom. “Into what? A werewolf?”
“Ha, ha. Into a real shirt. Mr. Frapp is my boss’s boss, after all, and I hear he has almost as much money as Abydos.”
It was only later, as I pulled my truck up to the gate of “Frapp Manor”—there was an ornate sign on the wrought iron—that I realized the rumors might be right.
“Holy shit, Brakkor,” Jocelyn whispered from beside me. “When you saidhouse, I thought you meant like, ahousehouse. This is a mansion.”
“It’s not that bad.” The building set back among gardens landscaped to look like chaotic nature was modern-looking, one level with lots of glass and right angles. Determined not to be intimidated, I punched thecallbutton on the box beside the gate.
Immediately, a reedy voice answered. “Deliveries can be left by the gate. I’ll get them when I walk the cats.”
Jocelyn made a little noise of confusion, but I cleared my throat. “Uh…we’re hoping to speak with Mr. Frapp. Today.”
