Chapter Twenty-One
A small moan escaped her lips. Traces of electricity lingered behind when his lips moved on to their next target. It was blissful agony to be in Jacque’s arms again. He pinched her nipple between his lips, causing her to arch against his mouth. Angel wanted to resist him. Her body committed mutiny against her reason. The loving expression in his eyes as he gazed upon her face, even with the hideous scar, caused her defenses to shut down. She neither wanted nor needed his pity. His love, she craved like a junkie needing a hit.
Her mind teetered on the brink of ecstasy and self-doubt. Angel closed her eyes, not wanting to recognize fear or disgust if she searched his face. Large, rough hands traveled down her body, coming to rest between her legs. He worked his thumb along the seam of her jeans. The friction sparked her desire and her hips to roll in response. She wished the fabric would disintegrate under his fingers.
She opened her eyes and watched him pop the latch of her bra, allowing her breasts to spill out of the lace. He suckled the round mound into the lush warmth of his mouth. The fury of his fingers working through the seam of her jeans caused an insatiable throbbing between her legs. Jacque maneuvered expertly around her body, never once looking into her face, eliminating the need to be repulsed.
Her body tensed. She wanted to stop; she was too far gone. She needed this release, even though her mind dreaded the surrender. It would never be the same between them. He would always view her with remorse and sympathy. A charity case she was not. She didn’t want him staying with her out of misplaced obligation. Unconditional love was Angel’s goal, and she wasn’t settling this time.
Jacque unfastened her belt and unzipped her jeans. Her hips pushed off the bed, allowing him to shimmy the denim down her legs and throw them on the floor. The hardness of his manhood pulsed inside the dark denim of his pants as his eyes roamed her body, drinking in her long bronze legs and purple lace thong. The pressure of his fingers kneading their way up her thighs made her wetter with each touch.
A finger slipped under the lace thong and ran down the scalloped edges lying against her pelvis, meeting the moist heat of her passion. His knuckle skimmed her folds, making her melt into the bed. When his fingers trailed back to the top of her thong, Jacque ripped the thin lace from her body and tossed it aside. Angel lay exposed in every way possible.
“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much,” he grunted as he nibbled on her neck. “I would face death a thousand times if this was my prize at the end.” He circled his thumb over her center. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying out.
Angel recovered from the writhing agony of his touch and lifted his chin to meet her gaze, wanting to see the words on his face. Jacque pushed up to kiss her lips. Smiling, she answered, “I missed you, too.”
His mouth slanted over hers, and her tongue darted through eagerly parted lips, tangling with his, in untamed lust. The sweet taste of mint surged through her. She allowed her mind to give into the moment, wanting to savor his pleasure and release her worries for now.
His body ached for her. The undulating throb of his shaft beckoned to be inside her moist folds, yet he waited. This was about Angel, not him. She lay splayed before him on the bed with her dark hair haloing around her, the color a stark contrast to the ice-blue of the duvet. Her smooth honey-brown skin glowed under the light. He traced a trail between her breasts, over the taunt muscles of her stomach, to the patch of fine hair between her legs. When he slid two fingers into her wet core, his shaft grew harder, threatening to explode.
As his fingers caressed within the hot moisture, his lips followed the same trail his hand forged earlier. He relished her shuddered when he placed a kiss just above where his fingers stroked a steady rhythm inside her. For too long he imagined the taste of her, wanting to bring her the pleasure she deserved. Angel’s cry, as his tongue found her spot, echoed in his head, sensuous and ardent. When her leg wrapped around his neck and her hands fisted his hair, drawing him farther into her, his mind succumbed to elated delirium.
The intensity of her reaction encouraged him to continue. He slid Angel to the edge of the bed and went to his knees on the floor. She tried to push back against his shoulders with her feet. Jacque locked his arm across the narrow expanse of her waist, trapping her in place. Her hips rolled with each thrust of his fingers and flicker of his tongue. Her moans were as mesmerizing as a siren’s song, enticing him to finish his mission—his mission of delivering her undeniable satisfaction.
Her plea was low and sultry, like a hot breeze. “Jacque. P-please!”
He stopped ravaging her to ask, “Please what? Tell me what you want.” His stroking fingers never missed a beat.
“You’re driving me mad. I need you inside me. Now.” Angel’s delicate hands gripped the covers, heels dug into the mattress, and the dark lust in her eyes lured him to her.
His shaft jerked at her words. He slid out his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head. Jacque positioned himself between her legs and rubbed the tip of his cock against her swollen sex, fighting the urge to thrust deep into her wetness. Her hips tilted, coaxing him to take her, the torment almost unbearable.
“Is this what you want?” he teased, pulsating against her.
Her head sank deeper into the covers. “Oh God, yes.” The throaty hunger in her voice ended his baiting. He could no longer resist penetrating her.
He guided himself into her tightness. Her sex melded around him like a velvet glove. The hot, wet chasm of her desire enthralled him. He slid in and out, increasing his pace, as she met his thrust with force, begging for more each time. Unable to control himself, he held on to her hips and sank his full length into her body, faintly hearing her scream as she came for him.
“Oh shit, Ang....” His words faded into his climax.
Jacque’s weight grounded Angel as he collapsed on top of her, his breath heavy in her ear. His heart pounded so hard it vibrated against her chest. She ran her fingers through his burnished curls, brushing them away from his face.
She wiped the sweat from his brow and kissed him on his forehead. He held on to her as if she might fade away.
Angel longed to give in to the temptation of this moment, to stay frozen in bliss, never to wake. Angel refused to have her heart broken again. Too many obstacles stopped her from building a life with Jacque. He might not see them today. It was left to her to save them both from the pain and agony of a bad break up down the road.
The beautiful chiseled lines in his face showed his Egyptian heritage as he lay with his head between her breasts. He laced his fingers through hers and kissed the back of her hand. He rolled to his side and lazily traced his index finger across her body. He explored every nook and cranny of her body, always avoiding her face. Only once during their lovemaking did he bring his eyes to meet hers, the moment inevitable. Blame was not a viable option in this situation. Most days she could barely stomach her own reflection. Why should she expect him to?
“What do you want to do for the rest of the night?” he whispered against her ear.
Angel gathered the sheet around her and leaned forward, allowing her hair to fall into her face. “I’ve got a lot to do to prepare for the meeting. I also have to finish the books. I’ve been trying to keep track how much money is being spent. I need to make sure I pay people back some day.”
“Who do you have to pay?”
“Laurent and Etienne have been bankrolling the operations. I got a little money put away. Nothing close to what this thing is costing. Who knew supernatural alliances would cost so much?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay them back.”
She shot him a murderous glare.
First, he pities me and now he makes me feel like a whore. This is going downhill fast
. “The hell you will! I don’t want to owe
you
money.”
“Why would you owe me money?”
“I’ve got you in enough trouble. I can’t accept your money. I can just imagine what your mother would think.” She cringed at the thought of his mother’s reaction.
“Angel, you’re talking crazy. Why wouldn’t I help you?” He sat up, facing her, as she turned her back to him.
“I appreciate your offer. I don’t want to owe you either. You’re not obligated to me. It’s not like we’re married or anything. Hell, technically, we’re not even dating.” She shot him a smug look over her shoulder, cringing at the anger contorting his face.
His nose flared and a flash of crimson caught in his eyes as he flung his legs over the edge of the bed. “What’re you trying to say?”
“I don’t know. Shit’s all messed up right now. I don’t need to worry about a relationship, too.” She focused her attention back to the wall across the room.
“Then what was the sex about? You usually fuck people you don’t want a relationship with?”
“I just got caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have slept with you.” She thumbed the bottom of the scar, just above her chin.
“Angel. You’re making me crazy. One minute you save my life and we’re making love, the next you tell me you can’t focus on a relationship. What the fuck?”
She felt his eyes burn holes in her back. She refused to look at him. If she saw his face, dove into the depths of those emerald pools, her conviction would fade. “I think it’ll be best if we just be friends right now. There’s more important things to worry about than hashing out a love affair. I can’t juggle all of this.”
He turned her around, forcing her to face him; his expression filled with rage. “Fine. Remember this conversation next time you change your mind. Or when you want someone to sex you up, don’t knock on my door. I don’t have time to play these games with you.”
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare knock on your door. And if I need someone to fuck, there are plenty of other options,” she lied. Anger drew a tear to the corner of her eye.
“This is exactly why I stay away from humans! You’re all fuckin’ nuts.” He pulled on his jeans and threw his shirt over his shoulder. Storming out the room, he slammed the door behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jacque’s feet punished the stairs on his way down. Fury boiled in his blood like volcanic magma. She was driving him mad, probably on purpose. He slammed his fist into the mirror-covered wall, hearing then feeling the shattering glass.
Maybe I can’t save her. She might be beyond my help
.
The pain she harbored must be great to inflict this kind of misery on herself. He sensed her conflict when she told him she didn’t want a relationship. She sacrificed herself for him. Love wasn’t an emotion he easily identified. However, he and Angel shared a strong connection. Yet whenever he drew near, she pushed him away.
By the time Jacque reached the kitchen, his hand had healed. He poured a glass of vodka, downed it, and poured another, debating his next move. Should he go back upstairs and try to force Angel to understand they belonged together, shake her until she gave into him? As attractive as it sounded, the prior argument drained him. He had no more fight left today.
A collection of keys hanging by the door caught his attention until a voice behind him made him jump.
“Are you trying to move the keys telepathically?” Marie took a seat at the small kitchen island. Faith sat next to her. Both women glared at him as if he committed a crime.
“Look. I didn’t do anything. She broke up with me, or rather explained we were never dating in the first place.” He poured another drink. He needed more encouragement if he had to defend himself to these two women.
“We know she’s pushing you away. She’s scared. A lot of people have hurt her.” Faith’s light brown eyes glistened with sadness. Jacque sensed she cared deeply for Angel. “I’ve tried to protect her. It hasn’t been enough. Our mother has a way of seeping under Angel’s skin and poisoning her thoughts.”
His heart weighed heavy as he pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how to help her,” a broken voice he recognized as his own replied.
Marie shook her head. “
Mon pauvre bébé.
She’s really done a number on your heart. Who knew demons could love?”
“I’m not sure if it’s love. All I know is I would die a thousand times to take this pain from her.” His stare gripped hers, sharing his turmoil.
“That,
mon cher
, is love,” Marie explained.
“Don’t worry. She loves you, too,” Faith added.
“How do you know? I feel like a ping-pong ball. One minute she’s loving me, the next she’s telling me to go to hell.”
“Women. What did you expect? If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have foregone the one thing she felt was most precious to her.” Faith shared a faint smile. “She gave up everything she felt was important to get you back, not knowing whether you would even want her. Her sacrifice is the epitome of love.”
“Why is she giving it all up now?” he blurted, pounding a fist into the granite, shaking the island.
“Fear does strange things to people.” Marie poured a small swallow of gin into a glass and sipped it, as only a lady would do. “You must stay strong for the both of you.”
Both the women stood, sharing a loving glance at him. They each ran a hand along his arm in support or in sympathy, Jacque wasn’t sure which. Once they left the kitchen, he grabbed the keys to the car. Escape was first and foremost on his mind right now. He needed something to take his thoughts away from Angel.
Boy’s night out, time to find Laurent
.
Jacque studied the cars in the garage. Automobiles changed drastically since the last time he was Topside. It couldn’t be
too
different though. The last car he drove was a 1930 Ford Model A. This one, sitting shiny and red, was called a Carrera. A shield sporting a horse and the words Porsche was inlayed into the hood. He liked the style.
Inside, he inhaled the aroma of leather, adjusted the seat as far back as it would go, and turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred very different from the sputtering of the Model A. He evaluated the various levers and pedals. They all seemed familiar. He had watched Laurent as they rode around town before his unfortunate demise. He followed the H, shifted the stick into the top slot on the far left, and hit the gas. It jerked and stalled. This was going to be harder than it looked.
The ride to Laurent’s was a rough one. After several stall outs and a few people giving him the finger, he made it to St. Charles Avenue. He knew the middle finger wasn’t a gesture of pleasantries. With all his blunders, he could understand the others’ frustration with his lack of driving skills. Putting the car in neutral, Jacque yanked up the parking brake. He needed more practice before going back into traffic.
Laurent answered the door on the third ring.
“What the hell you doin’ here?” He peeked around the door to see if anyone else was with Jacque. “How the fuck you get here?”
“Um. I drove.”
I guess my subpar performance constitutes driving
.
“Drove what man? You haven’t driven since they invented cars.”
“You’re hilarious. I drove Angel’s car.”
Laurent stepped out of the house as if looking for someone to jump from behind the bushes. “You could’ve killed someone. Where the hell is Ang, anyway?”
Jacque kicked the front step, leaving a mark on the white paint. “Long story.”
“You fucked up already? I only left you a couple of hours ago.”
“Like I said, long story. One I don’t feel like discussing right now.”
Opening the door, Laurent waved him in. “All right. You wanna come in or we gonna stand out here all night?”
“Let’s go out. I need a drink and feel like having some fun. It’s been a while since I’ve been up top. Show your boy where the fun is.” He slapped Laurent on the back.
“Look, man. You gotta stop hitting me,” Laurent mumbled, rubbing his arm. “What kind of fun you talkin’? This is New Orleans. You can spit and hit fun.”
“Let go to this Utopia place.”
“You sure you wanna go there without Ang?”
“Angel has decided not to be in a relationship. And tonight I have, too. Get your shit and let’s go. You’re driving.” The fact Angel refused him ate at Jacque, yet he hid this weakness in front of Laurent. He was a demon, and they didn’t pine away at a loss of a female.
“No shit! Think I want to ride with someone whose last ride was a Model T?”
“It was a Model A,” he called as Laurent disappeared into the house.
***
Across the street, a long spiral line formed to get into the club. Jacque was impressed by the business the club seemed to draw. Laurent went to the front of the line chatting with the bouncer. After a few words, the velvet rope came down to the jeering comments of a few farther down the line. Laurent always had a hook-up.
The club pumped with music and people. Nothing like this existed in the Underworld and definitely not the last time he was Topside. The human world had become a freer, less inhibited place. The scene was something straight out of a music video, something he watched on BET; the excitement of music and the mob invigorated him. Very different from the formal balls from his last time on Earth. The women’s choice of clothing in this era, or lack thereof, had an alluring effect on him, except when Angel wore it. He wanted to keep her hidden for his eyes only.
He and Laurent leant against the bar and ordered two Grey Goose on the rocks. Jacque gulped his drink and turned to watch the crowd. Scantily clad women gyrated to the beat of the music. A few noticed him watching and added to the sensuality of their movements, not afraid to show their interest.
Love this place. No wonder Luc is bored. This world is a throwback to Sodom and Gomorra
.
With an empty glass staring him in the face, Jacque ordered another one.
“Hey, man. You better slow down. I’m not carrying you outta here,” Laurent said, eyeing the pretty blonde vamp in the corner.
“Hopefully, I won’t be leaving with you.” Jacque tipped his glass in the direction of the dark-skinned Fae giving him the dance show.
“Don’t do anything stupid you can’t take back. I know you love Ang.”
“Whatever. I’m tired of playing her games. I’m tired of dealing with females, period. It’s time for Jacque to have a little fun for a change.”
Am I really referring to myself in third person? Yes, I am. What the hell is in this vodka?
“Okay. Do as you like. Don’t come crying to me when you sober up and realize you’re a dumbass.”
Jacque downed the second drink and motioned for another. “You just worry about you. I’ll take care of Jacque.”
Again with the third person. Shit.
“I’m going to see if I can round up some company for myself. You’re on your own, playa.” Laurent slid down the bar towards his prey.
***
Angel lay across the bed, weighing her actions. Had she made a mistake pushing Jacque away? The hurt in his eyes tore at her reasoning. No. She did what was best for both of them. Now she had to do what was best for Angel.
It was time to stop hiding out, ashamed of her appearance. Her face was a tad bit distracting, but the rest of her was intact. A supermodel knew how to accentuate her assets and Angel knew how to work it. Guys never looked at her face when she had the “gurlz” on display.
She jumped out of bed and headed downstairs. Her grandmother and Faith sat in the living room drinking. The scene was almost comical. Angel hopped over the back of the couch and slid down between the two women.
She kissed them both, asking, “What are my two favorite ladies doing? Hanging out on a Saturday night?”
“Just having a cocktail and catching up,” Faith answered.
Angel started to stand. “Sounds like fun. I’ll get a glass and join you.”
Marie pulled her back down. “
Non
, you are too young to stay here. I would make Faith go, except she’s not ready yet. You should be out in the streets enjoying your youth.”
Angel pouted like a child, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Yeah. But I don’t have anyone to go out with.”
“What about your friends you used to talk to before you went to New York? Jasmine and Natasha still ask about you. Why don’t you call them?” Faith reached over, handing Angel the phone.
“I haven’t spoken to them in almost a year.”
“Just try.”
A smile danced on Angel’s lips. “I’ll call. If they bail, then I can sit and get drunk with y’all, right?”
“Ladies do not get drunk,” Marie snickered.
Angel searched through her contacts, finding the girls’ number, and made the calls. She was pleasantly surprised when the both girls agreed to go out. They even sounded excited to hear from her. They agreed to meet at her house in an hour.
Thrilled to see her childhood friends, the welcome entailed a lot of hugging, kissing, and screaming. They were in high school all over again. All four years the group was inseparable. Then came modeling and Jackson took her away from them. She cherished the fact neither girl acted as if anything was different about her. They saw Angel and not her scars.
“Miss I’m-hiding-out-for-a-year, where are we headed?” Jasmine asked.
Angel glanced from Jazzy to Nat. “I don’t know? Where y’all wanna go?”
“Somewhere different. I’m tired of the some ol’ thing all the time,” Nat whined.
Angel questioned her choice before she offered it up. She shouldn’t get her human friends involved in her supernatural world. Other humans went to Utopia and nothing happened to them. The Supe clubs weren’t much different than any other she’d been to. “Hey, I know a place. It’s hot. You’ll have fun.”
“Okay,” they answered in unison.
They took Jazzy’s car to Utopia. Angel was surprised to find her car missing when they went to the garage, even though they wouldn’t have fit in it anyway. Jacque must’ve borrowed her car. He better take care of it. It was the hottest car she ever drove; she loved it, almost as much as her shoes.
She beamed as she thought about Jacque. She already regretted her decision to push him away. Perhaps she’d talk to him in the morning and apologize. He’ll probably bunk at Laurent’s for the night. She didn’t blame him. She had been an ass tonight.
They parked on Bourbon, a block down Conti. Angel thought back to the last time she was on this street, again she wore unpractical shoes. She was going to pay for it at the end of the night. Tonight she had no one to carry her to the car.
Angel pouted and folded her arms across her chest when she saw the size of the line. Her friends frowned, too. As she was about to suggest going somewhere else, Angel spotted Etienne coming up the block.
She waved to get his attention. “Hey, Etienne!”
His smile radiated in the darkness. “
Bonsoir
, my Angel. You’re looking lovely tonight.”
“Thanks, can you get us in?” she requested, giving him her puppy dog eyes.
Etienne admired her friend, winning disapproval from his entourage. “How could I not escort such beautiful women? Who are your friends?”
“This is Jasmine and Natasha. My very best friends.” She nodded to each girl. “Girls, this is Etienne, a new friend.”
“Nice to meet you both. Hopefully, you all will save a dance for me tonight.”
Angel gazed at him, sweet and teasingly. “Of course.”
“Where’s Jac?”
“I couldn’t tell you and couldn’t care less,” she lied.
“Are you still seeing that asshole?” Jasmine interrupted.
Angel followed Etienne to the front of the line. “Not Jackson. Another asshole.”