It could be something else.
But Josette was in the car. It was time for lunch. Then he had to get them somewhere they could charge their phones and he could teach them how to use them.
After that, he’d be leaving them so Frannie could get ready, and he could go home and do the same, because he was taking Frannie out to dinner.
Noc decided to give her her space now and talk to her then.
At that moment, he moved in and touched his lips to her temple.
His touch got him her eyes again and the remoteness he’d seen a moment earlier wasn’t totally gone, but some of the warmth had come back and he knew it’d all be good.
Franka could go into her head. He’d find a way pull her out.
He reached beyond her as he shifted her out of the way of the door, muttering, “Climb up, sweetheart.”
She did.
He shut the door behind her, rounded the hood and took his two other-world girls to find tacos.
Not surprisingly, tacos were a hit.
* * * * *
The door to Valentine’s place opened and Noc stood still, staring down at Frannie.
Jesus, but Valentine had good taste.
“Fuck, baby, you look beautiful,” he said quietly, staring at her dress.
It was a little black one made of lace. One shoulder had lace over it. The other was bare. The material under the lace looked nude. And the fitted skirt was short so her long-ass legs went on forever, especially in those pumps that showed her toes and had bows.
Her hair looked amazing, poofed out and falling over her shoulders in big soft curls.
And she’d become a master with makeup in a very short time.
“Josette is enamored with the gadgets called ‘curling irons,’” she declared when his attention fixed on her hair. “We have something like this at home, but of course they’re not heated through a string that’s pushed into a wall.”
Noc shook himself out of it, moved into her, rounded her waist with an arm and shuffled her in, grabbing the door and throwing it to behind them.
“Encourage that obsession, Frannie,” he advised, dipping his face to hers.
“My hair is extremely…” she seemed at a loss for words but settled on, “large.”
He grinned and dipped the half an inch he had left for his lips to hit hers.
“You work it,” he murmured there.
“I assume that’s good,” she murmured back.
“Mm-hmm,” he replied then he pulled her close with both arms and took her mouth.
He felt her fingers circle the back of his neck, but only vaguely.
It was all about her tits pressed to his chest. The feel of his hips snug in hers. The smell of her. The taste of her mouth.
Noc slanted his head and deepened the kiss, bending her over his arm, wondering if he was hungry or if he’d be good just feasting on Frannie.
The thought made him break the kiss but he didn’t pull away too far.
He liked to watch from close as she swam up from one of his kisses. She took her time opening her eyes like she was still lost to his mouth and didn’t want to admit it was gone. And her gaze—usually so sharp, alert, guarded, missing nothing—was open, vulnerable, giving everything.
“Much as I want more from that sweet mouth of yours, sugarlips, we don’t stop, we’ll be goin’ right to my place and not the restaurant.”
A flare of interest sparked in her eyes before she nodded, pulled away, ducked her head and smoothed her skirt along her hips in an agitated move that exposed the effects of his kiss.
A move that was so fucking feminine and so goddamned hot, he felt his dick start to get hard.
“Okay, maybe you should stop moving,” he said.
Her attention shot to him. “But…why?”
“Frannie, you’re making me hard and I’m not even touching you anymore.”
He watched it move over her face, the smug satisfaction that softened her mouth, hooded her gaze.
“Fuck, now just lookin’ at your face, I’m gettin’ hard,” he grumbled.
“You need to control yourself, Noc,” she purred.
“Think back, baby. Not sure those words would have come out of your mouth last night.”
He saw the pink hit her cheeks even as her eyes narrowed. He liked both. Enough he didn’t even bother to try to control himself from reaching out a long arm, hooking her at the waist and pulling her to him for a quick touch of the lips.
“Josette settled in for the night?” he asked when he lifted his head.
“Yes, but I’d like to say farewell.”
He nodded. “Let’s get to that.”
“She’s watching the television,” Frannie told him, detaching from his hold. But the instant she did, she reached out a hand, captured his and took him down Valentine’s hall.
“Way Valentine lives, looks like the witch business is good,” he observed, this not being the first time in the last week he’d been to Valentine’s place. One that looked expensive on the outside but it actually hid the opulence of the inside that managed to be both lavish and utter class.
“She’s said that her secretary has set up some tours of homes for Josette and I over the next several days. I’m hoping she finds much the same for us as this is more than adequate.” She stopped and looked back to him. “I know you have a good deal to attend to yourself, darling, after having just returned home, but if you could find time to accompany us and give your opinions, I’d be grateful.”
“I’m there, Frannie,” he promised. “But did you see Valentine?”
She gave him a small smile at his promise, but at his question she only gave him a short nod, turned ahead and kept walking, sharing, “She was here briefly, thus our understanding of the existence of curling irons. She said she has much to do to catch up.” It was quieter and reflective when she finished, “She seemed very distracted.”