Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Brakkor
Cairo texted to let me know he’d towed Jocelyn’s car to his shop, popped the hood, and realized he couldn’t fix the starter. While she was getting ready, I had a conversation with him and Dravik about the pros and cons of ordering a completely new part versus scrapping the car.
“I dunno, man, I can’t make that call without asking her.”
Her scent hit me before I heard her. “Ask me what?” She poked her head out of the second bathroom.
I waggled the phone. “Talking to Cairo about your car.”
Her expression darkened, and on the other end of the line, Dravik blurted, “She’s there?” at the same time Cairo grunted, “It’s like that, huh? Good luck, you poor bastard. Text me what you want to do.”
When he hung up, I barely heard. Hells, I barely remembered I was holding the phone, because Jocelyn stepped out of the bathroom still pulling her hair up in a simple ponytail.
With her hands over her head, her waist and tits were accentuated, and I’d stood up before I realized that I was intending on grabbing her and carrying her to my bed.
Hunt. Catch. Fuck.
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’t have work 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 the defeat in 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 my Kteer purred 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 you are truthful 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 said house, I thought you meant like, a house house. 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 the call button 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.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
I didn’t even bother glancing to my right. “No, but I have a smoking hot archaeologist who has some opinions about how he’s fucking up the Eastshore Lighthouse.”
Jocelyn gasped and smacked my arm. “Brakkor!” she hissed, “don’t upset him!”
But the reedy voice on the other side of the speaker hummed. “Well, let me check Mr. Frapp’s busy schedule. Dressing, feeding the cats, cucumber sandwiches—good news, we’re available right now, assuming you like tea.”
“I love tea!” Jocelyn called loudly from my side.
I deadpanned into the speaker, “We love tea, apparently.”
Another reedy chuckle. “I like her already.” And then, with a beep, the gate opened.
“We?” Jocelyn whispered as I parked on the manicured gravel in front of the house. “Do you think that was Mr. Frapp?”
I merely shrugged—I’d never met the guy, after all—and held open her door for her. My truck was too big for her, and I made a mental note to install a step on the passenger’s side.
Why the fuck would you do that? She’s on vacation, remember? Probably not even staying on the island tonight.
The thought of not being able to repeat last night’s experience—not just listening to her screaming orgasms, but the way having her in my arms made my Kteer purr—had my chest clenching. As she skipped up the steps to ring Mr. Frapp’s bell, I pulled out my phone.
Order the part. I’ll pay for it, even if she decides to scrap the car.
I’ll buy it for scrap if that’s the case.
I liked how Cairo also didn’t see any need for niceties. With a nod, I slid the phone back into my pocket and looked up as the door opened.
“Hello, hello! You’re just in time for tea!”
The old male had the same reedy voice as over the speaker—Guess it wasn’t just audio distortion—and was even shorter than Jocelyn. He was reed-thin, with bushy hair and prominent eyes among his laugh-lines. Was that eyeliner?
“Hello, sir, I’m Joceyln Dupont.”
When he lifted his arms to Jocelyn, the sleeves of his bright-red kimono robe fell almost to the floor. “You must be the tea-lover, my dear. I’m Augustus Frapp.”
He pronounced it with a “goo” sound in the middle of his name, and without giving Jocelyn time to answer, he pulled her in to kiss the air on either side of her cheeks, apparently completely oblivious to the way my chest was growling jealously.
In fact, he swung toward me and tucked one of Jocelyn’s hands through his elbow when he made a show of looking me up and down.
Unless I missed my guess, there was an appreciative gleam in his eye.
“And you must be the smoking hot archeologist. I’ve never seen an academic with that many tattoos.
” He winked at Jocelyn. “I see why you agreed to carry his tools around, my dear.”
That was apparently too much because Jocelyn burst into giggles. “I’m the archaeologist—or at least, I have my degree in it. Brakkor is my—my friend.”
“Oh dear, you’re both taken?” The old male heaved a sigh that didn’t sound terribly heartbroken. “You must join us for tea, and you can tell me how I’m fucking up the lighthouse project. It’s been my family’s property for—oh, goodness, two hundred years now?”
He pulled Jocelyn into the house as they exchanged introductions, and I took the time to glance around. Look, I’m not going to claim I know shit about interior design, but even I could tell that Mr. Frapp—sorry, Augoooostus—had what Korrad would call an eclectic style.
Jocelyn pulled the old male to a stop with a gasp, staring at one of the framed paintings. “Is this a Rembrandt?”