Chapter 9 #2
My lips twitched as I watched Brakkor sleep, his expression relaxed, his lips missing his habitual smirk.
He was always so blunt, saying exactly what he meant, wearing that truth like armor against the outside world; no wonder he had to smirk all the time.
I admired the way he didn’t have to worry about what other people thought, he just said what he meant.
Still, my fingers itched to touch his forehead, to feel it without the perpetual lines he wore when he was bracing against the world.
He’d told me his policy with the hunt, catch, fuck, and I’d been happy to let myself be caught…
could I do it again? Could I let down my guard and allow myself to take what he offered, even if I knew it could lead to heartbreak?
Was I brave enough to hide my heart from him?
My phone buzzed again—a text message—and I realized my do not disturb must’ve run out. I glanced out the window again. A rainy Monday morning sounded—
Monday morning.
Oh, shit.
With a gasp, I rolled off Brakkor, lunging for my phone. Shit shit shit.
Sure enough, I’d missed two calls from my boss, and the text message had just come through.
I read it and dropped my head back to the pillow with a groan.
Brakkor rose beside me on one elbow, his hair tousled from sleep, his eyes half-lidded. “What is it?”
“I just got fired,” I grumbled, throwing my forearm across my eyes to hide the tears of frustration. “My boss hadn’t wanted to give me Saturday and Sunday, and when I didn’t show up this morning…”
Gently, Brakkor pried my phone from my grip. “Did you tell her your car broke down, and you’re stuck on Eastshore?” I heard him place the phone on the bedside table.
“No.” It wouldn’t have mattered. “She wouldn’t take that excuse. I guess…” I blew out a breath. “I guess I was hoping I was valuable enough that she wanted to keep me.”
His hand slid around my waist. “You’re valuable, Kitten.”
The endearment made my lips twist ruefully and I peeked out from under my arm to see him watching me intently, that strange green glow in the center of his eyes.
“I guess not to my boss. It’s not like that was my dream job or anything—selling overpriced clothing to spoiled teens—but…” I trailed off with a sigh.
“Your boss is a cruel and heartless human, and you’re better off without her.”
It was the seriousness of his tone that made me realize Brakkor was teasing, and I huffed out a little laugh.
He shifted, looming over me. “You deserve your dream job, Joss.”
Before I could ask him what that was, he was lowering his lips to my cheek, brushing light kisses over my skin. “Besides,” he murmured, “now you can take a vacation.”
I smirked, having an idea what he meant, and my arms went around his neck. “A vacation, huh? What does that entail?”
“Well, first…” He nuzzled my neck beneath my ear. “You sit on my face again. Maybe a third time, just to get it out of my system.”
Out of his system? Just hearing him say something so nonchalantly made my core flood with need. “Y—” I began, but my voice stuck in my throat as he scraped his tongue across my skin. “How about you?”
“What about me?” Brakkor was already intent on tugging up my sleep shirt, his hand cupping my breast.
“Aren’t you going to want to come? Oh my God,” I squeaked when he rolled my nipple.
“Kitten, you can’t imagine how much pleasure it gives me to feel you come on my face. Do you have any fucking idea how good you taste?”
Since he was still rolling my nipple, and my pussy was throbbing, I could only manage, “N-no.”
“Then don’t argue with the expert.” He rolled and tugged me with him. “Now be a good girl and let me fuck you with my tongue.”
Brakkor was one persuasive male.
Later, he made me pancakes and bacon. Pancakes and bacon are even better than spaghetti when it comes to wooing me—let’s hope Brakkor doesn’t have a killer chocolate chip cookie recipe, or I’d be lost. But as I took that first big, delicious bite, he surprised me.
“I’ve been thinking about that dream job of yours.”
I raised my brows as I chewed—so good—and waited for him to expound.
And when had he found time to think about my job?
After the second time I’d climaxed, I’d retreated to the bathroom for my morning routine…
he’d followed and carried me into the shower, where he’d proceeded to wash my hair, making me groan for an entirely different reason, and stroke my skin gently.
I was sparkling clean, sexually sated, and filling my stomach with bacon. Was there a better way to start the week?
Well, some financial security wouldn’t suck.
Right, there was the whole job thing, which led me right back to his comment.
So I swallowed. “Which dream job?”
Brakkor grinned without looking up from where he was sawing up his pancakes. “The one you get when you convince Mr. Frapp that he needs to fund an excavation of the Eastshore Lighthouse, rather than just shoring it up.”
I blinked, not sure of what I was hearing. “What?” I breathed.
Finally, he met my eyes. “The lighthouse. You said yourself that by dumping a bunch of concrete around the foundation, we’re covering up a bunch of archeological evidence, and only buying the building another handful of years.”
I’d paused with a forkful of pancake halfway to my mouth. Now I bit into it and nodded mutely.
Brakkor shrugged. “So let’s go see Mr. Frapp. Maybe he’s got a good reason, or maybe he doesn’t realize what he’s doing. Maybe the light needs to be moved—like you were talking about doing last night. The guy’s got the money for it.”
The thought—the possibility—had my heart thumping faster than usual, and I slowly lowered my fork to my plate. “You know where he lives? Is he here on Eastshore?”
“Yeah—Korrad had to meet with him a few times. Says he’s a nice guy, a little eccentric.
It wouldn’t hurt to visit him, right?” He inclined his head toward the window.
“Last night’s storm bogged the project down, anyhow.
Maybe he’ll want to nix it entirely, and you can talk him into doing the right thing. ”
The right thing.
I stared at Brakkor. Did he have any idea of the gift he’d just handed me?
Even if Mr. Frapp didn’t jump at my suggestion, and even if this didn’t have anything to do with my future, Brakkor had listened. He’d listened to me, and he’d connected my past to what was happening on Eastshore, and he’d understood.
Brakkor was watching me, waiting for an answer, as if he hadn’t just surprised me speechless with his casual offer. As if he hadn’t just shifted my worldview just slightly.
So I managed to nod. “Yeah.” I pretended great interest in my plate of pancakes, blinking to keep my eyes from tearing up. “Yeah, that sounds awesome. Let’s do that, if you think it’s okay.”
I heard him grin. “It’s a date.”
A date. With Brakkor.
Not a hookup, not a one-night stand, not a few hours in a hotel room…but a day together, just the two of us.
And he’d suggested we spend it doing something that would make me happy.
I wondered if maybe I had misjudged him.