by I. T. Lucas
The more Jackson thought about it, the more he was inclined to believe it was a human copycat. A nutcase with vampiric delusions.
Tessa sighed. “We are sitting in your car, and instead of talking about how I’m finally ready to have sex with you, we are talking about murders. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather talk about sex.”
Jackson chuckled and pushed his chair back. “Come here.” Releasing her seatbelt, he lifted her into his lap. “I’d rather talk about sex too. But talking is overrated.” He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her.
Her arms going around his neck, Tessa kissed him right back, their tongues not so much dueling as dancing. When her need for air forced her to release him, she took in a deep breath.
Looking at his mouth with hooded eyes, she rubbed her thumb over his lips. “I’m so ready, Jackson, it’s not even funny.”
A smile tugging at her lips, she leaned and whispered in his ear, tickling it with her warm breath. “Do you want to hear a secret?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to know why I’m so sure I’m ready?”
“Please, don’t torture me like that. Spit it out already.”
She blew air into his ear, then nipped it playfully. “For the past week, every night when I went to sleep without you, I played with myself.”
“Fates, Tessa, that’s so hot.”
She whispered, “Do you want to know what I fantasize about when I finger myself?”
“What?” Jackson hissed through elongated fangs. He was so turned on he was about to come in his pants like some runny-nosed preteen.
“I imagine you on top of me, inside me, making love to me.”
“And?”
She blew another puff of air into his ear. “I climax every single time.”
He was so ready to be inside her, right there and then, in the car, parked on the street where anyone could see them. All it would take was to push his pants down, and her skirt up.
Fuck no.
Their first time wasn’t going to be in his car, or even his bedroom, or hers.
They had waited so long for this moment, and their joining was going to signify so much more than sex, the occasion called for an appropriately elaborate setup. He wanted it to be special for them. Like a honeymoon, special.
But that didn’t mean they couldn’t make love. He could still pleasure his girl with his fingers and his mouth and his tongue, bringing her to one climax after another.
Jackson pushed his hand under Tessa’s skirt and slid his finger under her soaked panties.
She moaned even before he touched her folds. “Oh, yes!” She sounded triumphant.
“Baby, we are not going to do it here.”
“Let’s go up to your room.” She made a move to slide back into the passenger seat.
Jackson held on. “We will go up, and we will make love to each other, but not all the way.”
“Why not?”
“We’ve waited for so long, we can wait a little longer and make our first time super special. I want to find us a romantic inn and rent the honeymoon suite. I want to fill the room with flowers and candles and music. Can you let me do this for us? Can you wait until next Sunday?”
Tessa cupped both his cheeks. “I love you so much, Jackson. Of course, I can wait. I want the honeymoon suite and the flowers and the candles. I want our first time to be romantic and sweet and uniquely ours, a memory to cherish forever.”
“I love you, kitten, and I want to give all of that to you, but I can’t promise that all of it is going to be sweet.” He waggled his brows.
“Neither can I. We will start with sweet, continue to hot and sweaty, and finish with fireworks.”
“I like your plan.”
Chapter 8: Anandur
Bridget didn’t have a wheelchair.
Apparently, since she’d opened her clinic in the keep, there had never been a case of an injury that required the use of one.
Luckily, his trusted old Walmart had one. Typically it was an order-only item, but someone had returned theirs to the store.
Anandur loved the place. One-stop shopping for all his needs. His snob of a brother would never set foot in the discount store, but the joke was on him. Brundar was going to use their wheelchair.
He’d even found another nifty item for the snub. A portable urinal. Brundar could pee in the plastic bottle instead of waiting for Anandur to carry him to the bathroom.
What other store could have had him in and out, his entire shopping list fulfilled, in less than thirty minutes? Altogether the round trip, including the stop at Brundar’s club, had taken him a little over an hour.
In the keep’s parking garage, Anandur unfolded the wheelchair, loaded it with all the shopping bags, then wheeled it into the elevator.
The lift stopped at the lobby level, and Andrew walked in, holding a paper bag with pastries. “What’s that?” He pointed at the chair.
Fuck, Anandur had hoped to have a little more time before the keep’s rumor machine started spinning and someone told Kian.
“Brundar got injured.”
“How?” Andrew sounded incredulous, as would everyone else once they heard the news.
The invincible warrior having been incapacitated by a human was big news, and not good news, which meant that the rumor was going to spread even faster. For some reason, people hungered for drama much more than they hungered for good news and certainly more than comedy.
Fools.
There wasn’t a shortage of drama in the world, while the other two were in short supply.
“It was a hostage situation. It was either him or the victim. Brundar chose the nobler path.”
Andrew rubbed his jaw. “Damn. That’s a nasty situation I’m well familiar with. How is he doing?”
“Cranky. You know how proud Brundar is. He doesn’t want anyone to see him like that. So don’t tell a soul. The last thing he wants is to entertain well-meaning visitors.”
Andrew nodded. “I understand. No one will hear about it from me. But you can tell Brundar that I’m proud of him. That is if you think he is up to hearing that. Some men don’t like praise for what they consider their duty.”
“I’ll tell him. The worst thing he can do is growl at me, which I’m used to.”
Andrew slapped his shoulder. “You can take it, big guy.”
“Say hi to your girls for me,” Anandur said as the elevator stopped on Andrew’s floor. “And kiss the little one’s cheeks.”
Andrew grinned. “Will do.”
As soon as the doors closed, the smile slid off Anandur’s face. Andrew was a good man, but he would no doubt tell Nathalie, swearing her to secrecy. But then she would do the same with Syssi, and boom—the news would get to Kian.
They needed to get Calypso out of the building as soon as possible.
The trouble was, to sneak her out they needed to wait until it was late at night, and there was less of a chance of bumping into someone.
Exiting on his floor, Anandur glanced at the third elevator door, the one dedicated to the penthouse level. As Kian’s bodyguards, he and Brundar had access to it. If he made sure Kian was asleep, he could sneak Calypso into it.
The thing didn’t stop at any of the other floors, not unless those inside it commanded it to do so.
The thing was, Kian was known to occasionally wander between his basement and home office, sometimes in the middle of the night. Doing business with companies across the Pond often required him to make phone calls when he was supposed to be asleep.
No wonder the dude was always so grumpy.
The guy needed a vacation, but Anandur wasn’t the fool who was going to suggest it. Kian fumed whenever anyone even mentioned the word.
“I’m home!” Anandur called out as soon as he opened the door. Given Brundar’s injuries, he doubted his brother was up to getting busy with Calypso, but it wasn’t completely outside the realms of possibility. The girl was hot. This morning, she hadn’t had a bra on, which
meant that he’d gotten an eyeful of her impressive breasts, perfectly outlined under Brundar’s white T-shirt.
Looking had been wrong on so many levels. First of all, because Callie was Brundar’s, and second of all because she’d been traumatized and beaten the night before and certainly wouldn’t appreciate anyone ogling her breasts.
Especially not her boyfriend’s brother.
Anandur had done his best to keep his eyes on her face, but that one glance had been enough to make him feel like a lecher. He would have to learn to do better, think of her as a sister, or a cousin.
Fates knew he’d had enough practice with that.
Callie pushed up from the armchair she had been sitting in snuggled up to Brundar. “Let me unpack the groceries, so I know what I have to work with.”
He lifted the bags off the chair and put them on the counter. “Here is your purse.” He handed it to her together with a bag of clothes. “I got you a pair of leggings, a couple of long T-shirts, a pack of panties, and a bra.”
Brundar growled but said nothing.
Callie might have blushed, but with all the different colors on her face, it was hard to tell. She reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. You make us lunch, and I’ll consider your debt paid in full.” He winked, then leaned closer. “I’m getting one hell of a deal here. I’m sure your cooking is worth much more than the few bucks I spent on the clothes.”
She smiled. “You need to taste it first.”
“I can’t wait. Chicken Piccata sounds so appetizing.”
He left her to deal with the groceries and wheeled the chair to Brundar. “Want to test drive this beauty?”
“No, but I have to. I need to pee again. I think the painkillers Bridget gave me have a diuretic effect.”
“Aha! I got something for you!” Anandur pulled out the portable urinal, presenting it to Brundar like a trophy.
Brundar grimaced but took the thing. “Thank you. It will make my life easier. Help me to the chair?”
Lifting his brother, Anandur gently lowered him to the wheelchair, then adjusted the leg supports. “Be careful navigating the corners, so you don’t bang your legs into anything.”
Brundar handed the bottle back to Anandur, grabbed the wheels and moved the chair forward, then backward and sideways. “I think I got it. Hand me back that bottle. I’m going to give it a try in the bathroom.”
“I’ll help you. It takes time to learn how to move in this thing.” Anandur leaned closer and whispered, “We need to talk.”
Brundar nodded. “But only this one time,” he said for the benefit of Callie’s ears.
“You got it.”
Anandur pushed the chair down the corridor and into Brundar’s bedroom, then waited until Brundar was done in the bathroom.
“I bumped into Andrew on the way up,” he said as Brundar wheeled himself back. “He asked what’s the chair for and I told him you got injured in a hostage situation. Which is the truth. I asked him to keep it to himself because you’re grumpy and don’t want anyone visiting, but I don’t trust him not to tell Nathalie, who in turn might feel compelled to tell Syssi. Bottom line, we have to get Calypso out of here as soon as possible.”
“Agreed. You need to sneak her out tonight.”
“I have a feeling she is going to resist.”
“Most likely.”
“Are you man enough to stand up to her?”
Brundar cast him one of his more deadly glares. “Calypso is traumatized and bruised, and every instinct I have screams for me to keep her safe by my side. So if she resists, and I cave in, it is because I am a man.”
Anandur was so proud of his little brother he wanted to pull him into a crushing bro embrace. He didn’t, and not only because Brundar was injured.
Instead, he inclined his head. “I stand humbled and corrected.”
Chapter 9: Brundar
“This is so good.” Anandur paused for a moment to compliment Calypso, then shoved another piece of chicken into his mouth.
She smiled. “I’m glad you like it. What about you, Brundar?”
“Superb as always.”
Calypso didn’t look convinced. “Tell me the truth. I know you like beef.”
He did, but whatever Calypso made tasted great. “I do. But I like sampling your creations even more.”
Anandur reached for the platter and jabbed his fork into another piece of Chicken Piccata, put it on his plate and added a heap of spaghetti. “I wish we could keep you. I could get used to eating like this. But I’ll have to double my workout time if I want to fit through the door.”
Brundar felt his gut clench uncomfortably. He didn’t like the reminder that Calypso was leaving tonight.
“If I stayed a little longer, you could get back to work while I kept an eye on Brundar. Wouldn’t your cousin like that? Having both of his bodyguards out of commission must be worse than having harmless little me stay in his building.”
Her logic was solid, and it would be hard to argue without giving away the real reason why she couldn’t stay. Brundar exchanged glances with Anandur, hoping his brother would come up with something that sounded even remotely logical.
Anandur wiped his mustache with a napkin. “Unless Kian and his wife want to go out, he doesn’t need us during the weekend. By Monday, Brundar is going to be okay to stay here by himself.”
That had sounded very logical, but it had also given Calypso an opening for a new argument.
“In that case, I see no reason why I need to leave tonight. I can spend Sunday here, and you can take me home Sunday night.”
Anandur scratched his beard. “It’s risky, but maybe it’s worth it. For me. If you stay with Brundar tonight, I can go out and have some fun. He can manage now that he has a wheelchair and a bottle to pee in.”
Calypso ignored the comment about the urinal and smiled triumphantly. She lifted her hand, palm up. “Here you go. I stay, and everyone is happy. As long as the big bad wolf doesn’t sniff me out, that is.”
A chuckle bubbled up from Anandur’s chest. “An apt analogy.”
“I can make dinner too, for today and tomorrow. And a Sunday brunch.”
Poor girl, trying to justify her stay by cooking for them. Naturally, he wasn’t going to phrase his objection like that because it would offend her. She would deny it and make up all kinds of reasons for why she just had to spend the rest of the weekend cooking. He would have to come up with an excuse, like her need to rest. In fact, it was the truth. Calypso was pushing herself too hard. He should not have agreed to her cooking lunch either. But then she would have felt bad.
Brundar shook his head. Calypso was changing him. A few weeks ago he wouldn’t have thought twice about saying what was on his mind regardless of how it would’ve been received.
Reaching over the dining table, he clasped her hand. “Slow down, Calypso. Anandur was just joking. You need your rest too. Takeout will do.”
Anandur started to open his mouth, most likely to protest, but Brundar threw him a warning glance. His brother shut it without saying a thing, but his crestfallen expression and slumped posture spoke louder than words.
Something in Brundar’s stern expression must have affected Calypso, either that or her fatigue had finally gotten the better of her, and she nodded. “I love having someone, two someones, to cook for who appreciate and enjoy it. But you’re right. I need to take it easy.”
He knew Calypso and waited for the catch. She never capitulated without a fight. Outside the bedroom, that was.
“When I make dinner tonight, I’ll make double. It’s not more work, and we will have dinner for tomorrow too.” She eyed the empty platter with a satisfied smirk. “On second thoughts, I’ll make it quadruple. I thought I made enough for lunch tomorrow as well.”
He wasn’t going to get a better deal than that.
“On one condition.” Brundar cast his brother a warning glance. “You let Anandur help you. H
e can peel and cut and do other stuff like that.”
Anandur shook his head. “I don’t know about that. Having me around the kitchen is like the proverbial bull in a china store.”
“Can you wash dishes?” Calypso asked.
“I can do that.”
“That’s all the help I need. Cleaning up takes almost as much time as cooking, and it’s my least favorite part of the process.”
“Then I shall be your humble dishwasher, madam. I’ve already played a lowly deck boy, I can do this.”
Calypso’s eyes widened. “Are you an actor?”
“Not professionally. It was part of an undercover assignment.”
Her eyes got even wider. “Can you tell me about it, or is it classified information?”
Anandur leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I guess I can tell you the story without revealing any identifying details.”
Brundar rolled his eyes. Anandur enjoyed drama. He could've told Calypso the name of each participant, and it still would have told her nothing. It wasn’t as if the story had made the news.
“We suspected the owner of a luxury yacht of smuggling drugs, and since his crew was all female, I pretended to be a deck boy, offering my services to yacht owners in the marina.” He winked suggestively.
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, and when it did, Calypso gasped. “You didn’t.” She giggled.
Anandur inclined his head with pride. “Oh yes, I did.”
Chapter 10: Callie
After Anandur had left, Callie leaned against Brundar and sighed. This was one of the best days of her life, and the good news was that the day wasn’t over yet. She’d never felt such a sense of belonging, of family, even though she and Brundar were barely a couple, and she’d only met Anandur recently.
But then traumatic events had a way of creating a bond between people.
She’d read that people working in emergency rooms felt it, as well as soldiers in commando units. Superficial differences that meant something outside of those intense environments went up in smoke when people fought as a unit for survival, either their own in the case of commandos, or patients in the case of emergency room personnel.
