Fallen Angels: Beguiled\Wanton\Uncovered (16 page)

Ruthlessly, hoping to banish the disturbing thoughts, he backstepped her up to the brick wall beside the fireplace and pinned her there with his hips. His hands jerked up her sweatshirt and he covered both plump, tender breasts with his rough palms. “You're mine now, Angel.”

She moved against him, inciting him, encouraging him, and he reacted to her on a primitive level. He jerked back, lowered his head and carefully closed his teeth over one erect nipple. Angel cried out. He knew her breasts were sensitive; he'd found that out last night, taking extra care with her then. But now, he wanted to dominate her, to make her beg, to make her admit that she needed him, and not just for convenience and the safety he afforded. It was disquieting to feel such depth of emotion with this one particular woman. He hadn't wanted to ever again care so much, not like this. But now he had to admit, especially to himself, that what he felt for Angel had no comparison. It was crazy, given the short amount of time he'd known her, but he couldn't fight it—didn't even want to try. He wouldn't feel guilty about it, either. Derek had thrown away his chance to have her. Dane felt guilty for a lot of things, but not for this.

“Dane,” she cried, digging her fingers into his back, and he relished the small pain for bringing him a measure of control.

“Say my name again,” he told her as he began unfastening her jeans.

“I want you, Dane.”

“Now, Angel, right here.”

Her eyes widened, but he tugged her jeans down to her knees and turned her. “Brace your hands on the wall.”

“Dane?” Eyes wide with confusion, she looked at him over her shoulder.

“Do it, honey.” Not waiting for her to comply, he took her wrists in his hands and flattened her palms on the wall, wide on either side of her head. “Now don't move.”

He could hear her frantic breaths, her small whimpers, a mixture of excitement and uncertain anxiety. Grimly he smiled as he released himself from his slacks. He was rock hard and throbbing and more than ready to explode. When his arms came around her to ply her breasts, his fingertips plucking at her nipples, his erection just naturally nestled in the cleft of her rounded bottom. Angel gasped, pressing her head back, and at the same time, pushing her hips more closely to him.

He moved his pelvis, stroking her, teasing. He felt blind with lust, but also determined to accomplish his goals. “I want to get married tomorrow, no later than Wednesday.”

“Yes.”

A startled squeak escaped her when his arms squeezed her tight, but his relief was a living thing and there was no way to get close enough. He hated rushing her into marriage after everything else she'd been through. She deserved a proper courtship, with moonlight dates and flowers and gentle promises, all the things she hadn't had, all the things women wanted. But he had to do what he thought was best for both of them, and right now, tying her to him was his first priority.

Slowly, making himself as crazy as she, he dragged his palm down her ribs to her belly, and when she held her breath he bit her shoulder, a soft, wet love bite—then cupped her fully, taking her by surprise, loving the sound of her startled pleasure as she jerked and moaned.

His fingers gently pressed and found her ready for him, her feminine flesh swollen, the soft petals slick and hot. His middle finger glided over her, barely touching until her hips began moving in a counterpoint. He kept the pressure light and easy, teasing. She tried to hurry him, to encourage him to give her what she now needed, what she desperately wanted, but he resisted. Once, she started to drop her hands but he quickly repositioned her as he wanted her, vulnerable to him, submissive. Judging by the sounds of her panting breaths and raw moans, she loved it as much as he did.

“Dane, please…”

Just as he'd plucked at her nipples, he used his fingertips now to torment her again, but this flesh was so much more sensitive, the feelings so acute, she cried out and almost jerked away from him. His free arm locked around her, holding her in place for his sensual torment.

“You're mine, Angel. Mine.” His words were harsh, commanding, breathed against her temple as he thrust against her, his fingers unrelenting.

To his satisfaction and deep pleasure, she came.

Her arms stiffened, her head dropped forward and her body jerked and bucked as her hips pressed hard against him. Dane groaned with her, encouraging her, continuing the gentle abrasion of her most sensitive flesh. As she quieted, he praised her, telling her how crazy she made him, how special she was. He had no idea if she heard him, and she gave no reply other than her gratified groans.

He'd never before resented the use of protection, but now, as he fumbled in a rush to get the condom in place, he cursed the use of them.

Angel was barely staying upright, her body now slumped fully against the wall, her arms no longer stiff and straight. Her cheek pressed to the warm brick and he feared the abrasion against her soft skin, so he pulled her away and lowered her to the carpet, entering her at the same time.

Her tight jeans restricted his movements, but it didn't matter. He simply needed to be inside her, like he needed his next breath and the occasional sunshine and a few hours' sleep.
He needed her.

Riding her hard, pushing errant thoughts of the danger from his brain, he concentrated on the pleasure. Angel didn't join him again, but chose to watch him instead, her eyes soft in the firelight, her body pliant to his urgent thrusts. One hand lifted and she smoothed his shoulder, smiling gently.

Knowing she watched his every move, that she witnessed every emotion to pass over his face, knowing she could see his explosive pleasure as he came, made it all that much more powerful. He didn't disappoint her, and let himself go completely. He ground his teeth together to keep from shouting and strained against her, knowing she had just taken his heart. His body went rigid and he took his own orgasm with a low, endless growl of blinding pleasure.

He loved Angel Morris, he thought as he slumped against her. He loved her more than he'd ever thought to love anyone or anything. He loved her enough to give his life for her, to do anything to keep her bound to him.

Well damn, he thought, the effort almost painful to his muddled brain. That sure shot a hole in his altruistic plans of merely offering protection. It was also enough to scare ten years off his life.

“W
ELL, THAT DIDN'T
go quite as I had planned it.”

The words, so softly spoken, drifted around Dane, but it took considerable effort on his part to lift his head. He felt not only physically appeased, but emotionally full, and he didn't want to move, not yet, maybe not ever. He didn't want to lose the feeling, the closeness, and he didn't want reality, with all the present problems, to intrude. But he finally managed to struggle up onto his elbows.

Angel, tender and warm and womanly beneath him, looked at him with gentle, shining eyes, a tiny satisfied smile on her mouth.

God, he loved her.
The profound acknowledgment shook him. He'd been careless with her, and just as he'd lost his brother, he could have lost her, too.

He tenderly tucked a pale curl behind her ear. “What didn't go as you planned? Did I disappoint you, sweetheart?” He asked the outrageous question to give his brain a chance for mental recovery. Looking at her now, with the realization of how easily she could crush him, was going to take some getting used to. He wasn't accustomed to feeling fear, but what he felt for Angel scared him down deep in his bones, clear to his masculine core. It also made him feel near to bursting and kept his male flesh, still buried tight inside her, semihard. Nothing would ever be enough with her.

Feeling the way he did, realizing just how special she was, made him doubt what he knew about Derek. His brother couldn't have used Angel as vindictively as everyone thought. No man could possibly spend time with her and not appreciate how special, how unique she was.

Her smooth brow puckered as she frowned at him. He had to laugh, and luckily that lightened the moment for him, at least to the point he could talk coherently without fear of professing undying love. Angel had been badly misused by his family, and he hadn't done much better by her, though that would quickly change. He fully intended to rush her headlong into marriage. Burdening her now with his excess of emotion before she'd had a chance to get used to the rest would be grossly unfair.

And besides all that, he was suddenly a horrible coward. He simply didn't want to lay his heart on the line, not when the odds were she'd disdain his love. She wanted him on a physical level, there was no denying that, not with the heated scent of their lovemaking still thick in the air. And they had the mutual love of Grayson, a binding responsibility for them both. He'd have to build on those things, and hope it would suffice.

Touching his fingertips over one tightly drawn eyebrow, he grinned. “How can you look so embarrassed after what we just did? Your pants are around your knees, I can feel your nipples hard against my chest, and you're still holding me inside you.” He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. “So tight, Angel, like you never want to let me go.”

“Dane.” Unconsciously, she lifted her hips into his and he groaned.

“What didn't go as you planned?”

She looked shyly away, charming him anew. That she could be so wild one minute, and yet timid the next, kept his lust on a keen edge, and sharpened the emotional needs he felt to tie her to him, to keep her safe.

“I wanted this time to be different.”

He laughed again. She never ceased to surprise him. “More different than making love against a brick wall with your—”

“Dane, hush!” She pressed her hand against his mouth and he kissed her palm, silently laughing.

“I'm sorry,” he said, the words muffled until she drew her hand away. “You're too easy to tease.”

“This time, I wanted to do stuff…to you. It doesn't seem fair the way you always give so much and I just take.”

Those overwhelming emotions washed over him again in a wave of heat, stealing his thoughts and turning his body iron hard. He crushed her against him, burying his face against her throat. He was reminded of the near-fire at her apartment by her smoky scent, and the fact that someone was trying to hurt her, and had likely killed his brother. The events that had brought them together were never far from his mind. Because those same events could tear them apart.

Gently pulling away from her, he sat up. Angel started to do the same, looking at him uncertainly, but he stopped her by lifting one of her feet to his lap and removing her shoe. “You need a shower and some sleep. And Alec and Mick should be here soon.” He caught her pants and stripped them the rest of the way off.

“I don't need sleep. I need to see the rest of your house.”

“And you will.”
Later, after she was rested up.
She may be doing a good job of holding herself together, but he was still running on adrenaline, and a compelling need to ensure her safety. Their lovemaking had only served to blunt the edges of his urgency a bit.

Once he had her naked from the waist down he caught her under the arms and lifted her with him as he stood. He pulled the sweatshirt free, surveyed her naked body with a deep satisfaction, then cupped her face in his hands. “You listen to me, Angel Morris.” His thumb coasted over her bottom lip and she nodded.

“We have plenty of time to play sexually. The rest of our lives in fact because I intend to keep you. For better or worse, for richer or poorer. Eventually, we'll both get to do some exploring. But don't ever think you've disappointed me. For one thing, it's not possible, not when you go so wild when we're together. Not when I know that wildness is only for me. That's more of a gift than most women ever give, and most men ever deserve. We're being forced into this marriage, but the perks, to my way of thinking, are damn enticing.”

His gaze traveled from her mouth to her breasts, then down, lingering on the damp curls over her mound. His tone dropped, rough with renewed arousal. “As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a single complaint. As your husband, I'll have you on hand day and night, and the way I see it, that's a hell of a bargain. All right?”

She nodded, but her eyes had gone dark and soft again and he knew what he'd said had turned her on, that his words of explanation had put visual images in her mind. Seeing her reaction put them in his mind as well. He hadn't been this horny or insatiable since high school, and he had to wonder just how much of it was based on a desperate need to reaffirm what they had, before it was taken away. “Come on. While you're showering I'll keep an eye on Grayson and get us something to eat.” He eyed her pale naked body as he led her into the hall bathroom, unable to keep his hands from patting her rounded behind, smoothing over her waist and belly. He drew a deep breath and chastened himself to behave. “I'll also find you a robe to wear until your other stuff gets here.”

“It feels strange, Dane. Being naked with a man, not being the only one to keep an ear trained for Grayson.” She drew a breath, watching him closely. “Not having to be so afraid.”

He hoped that meant she felt a measure of trust for him. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you, babe. You can rest a little easier now.”

She turned to face him as he pulled two thick towels out of the cabinet and set them close to hand.

“It feels strangest of all to be in your house. That's going to really take some getting used to.”

“It's our house,” he said firmly, wanting her to feel comfortable, determined to get her fully enmeshed in his life, so much so she wouldn't be able to help but love him back. “When I took over Derek's office, my mother wanted me to move into his house as well. But I drew the line at that. The memories there are too sharp, too suffocating. I feel enough like an interloper as it is, usurping his office, his files…his woman.”

Angel shook her head. “I was never that, not really. Derek and I had a brief fling, but it ended long before he got possessive. I'm not sure if he intended to use me all along, or if he just jumped on the opportunity when it presented itself. But almost from the first, I felt more for you than I ever did for him.” She looked around, then smiled. “I'm glad this is your house, not his.”

He, too, looked around. “I paid to have it decorated because I was clueless and didn't have the time to worry about it anyway, not traveling as often as I did. It's a home base of sorts, but it's always felt kind of…cold to me. So if you get in the mood and want to change things, go right ahead. Just don't ever let anyone in unless I'm here with you.”

“I'm not an idiot.”

He nodded agreement. “Far from it. But right now, I'm not willing to trust a single soul with your safety. The house is secure, but only if you use the security system correctly. There's an intercom for the front and back door. Don't take any chances, okay?”

She gave a grave nod. He didn't want to frighten her again, but they both knew just how much danger she was in. Hopefully living with him would keep her out of harm's way while he continued his investigation of Derek's death. He would probably bring the police into it shortly, once he'd had a chance to go over things with Alec.

The future stretched out before him, and for the first time that he could remember in too many years to count, he saw more than an endless, empty void. He wanted a future with Angel, with Grayson.

And he wouldn't let anything stand in his way. Not even a murderer.

 

M
OTHER NATURE
conspired against them.

Looking out the kitchen window, Angel sipped her coffee and then sighed. Finally the sun was shining again, though she knew the weather wouldn't clear for a while. Record-breaking lows were predicted for the rest of the week.

She also knew Dane was frustrated, that if it had been up to him, they would have been married already. But the most horrendous snowfall of the season, a good twelve inches, had all but canceled Thanksgiving and confined everyone indoors, making a wedding impossible. It had also stalled his investigation, putting personal queries on hold.

Dane had improvised Thanksgiving, forgetting the plan to meet with his family—to Angel's relief and Celia's disappointment. For lack of a turkey, he made a superb pork roast and surprised Angel with his culinary talents.

It had felt right somehow to spend an evening in the kitchen with Dane, bumping hips and sharing chores, working together. Grayson sat in his pumpkin seat watching them, and the setting would have been picture perfect if it hadn't been for the fact that someone evil was still out there, still a threat, keeping them both edgy despite their efforts to the contrary.

The weather provided the ideal excuse for them to linger in bed, forcing away the dark cloud of menace with an overload of sensuality. Just a few hours ago Dane had awakened her from a sound sleep with warm hands and a warmer mouth, gently encouraging her higher and higher until she'd had to muffle her shouts with a pillow. It amazed her that every time with him seemed better, more intense. She wasn't certain how much more she could take, but was anxious to find out.

He'd left her limp and exhausted in the bed. He had kissed the tip of her nose, told her he'd be home in a few hours, and then lovingly cupped a breast before turning away and hurrying out. Dane often hurried away from her, as if he were afraid if he lingered, he wouldn't go at all.

Angel had never felt so pampered, or so loved. Only he'd never said anything about love.

It worried her, how easily she had adjusted to being with Dane. He was the perfect father to Grayson, the perfect companion to her, even if he was overly autocratic on occasion.

She understood his worry because she shared it. No matter how many times they went over it, they couldn't come up with a single reason for someone to kill Derek and try to kill her. The idea of never knowing, of always having to be on guard, made her angry.

She had just come up from the basement with a large load of laundry when the phone rang. Expecting it to be Celia, who'd made a habit of calling daily, she balanced the laundry basket on one hip and used her shoulder to hold the phone to her ear. “Hello.”

There was no reply, and within a heartbeat the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up and gooseflesh rose on her arms.
No.
She forced a calm tone and said again, this time more firmly, “Hello?” but still received no answer and she quickly hung up the phone.

Frozen, she stood there, trying to convince herself that it was an accident, a coincidence. Not once since she'd moved in with Dane had there been a threatening call. There was no reason to think this was one of them. She drew a deep breath and tried to convince herself she was right.

At that moment Dane came in. Snowflakes glistened in his hair and his mellow golden eyes were warm with welcome.

When he saw her just standing there, he hurried to take the basket from her. “Angel, are you all right? Have you hurt your leg again?”

She swallowed hard and automatically repeated the words that had become a litany. The man was too overprotective by half. “Quit pampering me, Dane. It's getting annoying.”

“I have a cleaning woman for this—”

“Who hired on to do your laundry, not mine and Grayson's. Besides, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't want a stranger muddling through my things. And,” she added when she could see he was contriving more arguments, “the maid hasn't been able to come here in this weather. Grayson has laundry that needs to be done every day.”