Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) (28 page)

“More!” Ionie said, widening her legs.

Jarrid sank into her, giving her what she wanted — what he needed her to have. His Grace surged inside him, pulsing behind his eyes.

“Yes!” she said. “Make love to me.”

Jarrid rolled his hips, gasping at the exquisite friction of their joined bodies. He lowered his head and pumped into Ionie’s tight body. Over and over, she matched his thrusts, building the rhythm until his hips snapped forward, hard and relentless as he took them closer to their own Heaven.

Ionie was his. He’d fight every angel in creation to keep her.

Jarrid thrust his tongue into Ionie’s waiting mouth, hungry to taste her kisses. He wrapped his Grace around her, a vow. He would protect her with his soul.

Ionie cried out his name, her orgasm shattering around them. Her inner muscles milked him until he, too, flew apart in her arms.

As the last of his orgasm faded, Jarrid curled his arm around Ionie’s waist and pulled her to his side. His right leg locked over hers. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in her citrus scent. She released a contented sigh.

Jarrid continued kissing her until her even breaths told him she’d fallen asleep. He closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

Jarrid toweled his hair and strolled out of the bathroom. He picked up the note Ionie left on the desk.

“Back soon. I love you.”

He smiled. Then his stomach growled like a lion. If he didn’t get something to eat, he’d die of starvation in the next three minutes. He shoved his wet hair away from his face. Where the hell did he throw his jeans? He thought back to last night, grinning. Making love to Ionie multiple times a day had left his closet empty.

Shit, my turn to do laundry
.

“Bowie, you laying on my shirt?”

The Great Dane raised her long neck, peeked at him, and then settled back on the mattress with a huff of breath.
No help there
. He stomped over to the desk chair, sniffed a blue t-shirt, then slipped it over his head. Jeans buckled, he walked out of the room. Bowie lumbered after him, yawning.

He arrived at the kitchen, ready to raid the fridge, when he heard Nestaron laugh. Jarrid passed his brother, who was seated on the floor, scratching Echo’s head. The deaf dog had picked the quiet assassin as her pet, a role Nesty enjoyed.

The fridge was a wasteland.

“Whose turn is it to get groceries?”

“Cain’s up,” Nesty said.

Jarrid grabbed a sad-looking apple and went in search of the blond assassin. The entertainment room loomed ahead. He found Kas curled on the couch with QT. The elegant Dane’s head rested on Kas’s thigh while he clicked the cable remote.

“Where’s Cain? I’m starving.”

Kas shrugged without looking up. “The last time I found him
my
way, he fed my Grinder’s to Ky. Dog-chewed boots dripping slobber is not a cool look for me, man.”

Jarrid rolled his eyes and left. If he didn’t find Cain in the next 30 seconds, he’d eat his own boots. He took the stairs leading to Tanis’ office. Bowie lumbered after him. When he entered the study, he glanced at the glass dome encasing three black feathers. He liked Tanis’ trophy.

“Do I need to ask?” the angel said.

Jarrid smiled at Mighty Moe, the litter runt, stretched under the desk. All of the dogs had chosen one of the brothers — based on what, he didn’t know — and settled into their new home. He shook his head and left Tanis to his paperwork. The Directorate hadn’t sent any new orders, so The Order took the little break as a long overdue vacation.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway leading to the garage. Ionie came into view, her arms laden with bags. She shot him a radiant smile. “Hey, gorgeous. Hungry?”

The rich aroma of barbecued meat filled Jarrid’s nose, his stomach rumbling in approval. Jarrid dropped to his knees in front of her.

“If you propose to me because of Jimmy’s barbecue, I’ll feed these to Bowie,” Ionie said, giggling.

“What if I eat first, and then propose to you on a full stomach?”

Ionie laughed and shoved at his outstretched arms. He loved every sound she made. Jarrid rose, taking the bags from her, and placed them on the floor. He gave Bowie a warning glare. “Don’t even think about it.”

The dog sat down, her tail tapping the floor. He ignored her. His hands wrapped around Ionie’s curvy waist. “My starvation can wait. Have I told you today how much you mean to me?”

Ionie blushed under his gaze. “You tell me every day.”

Jarrid leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue lapped at hers in gentle strokes. “My soul is yours. You’ve given my life meaning.”

“I love you, Jarrid,” Ionie said, her smile brighter than the sun.

“And I love you. With you, I have found my wings.”

After spending several years as a newspaper reporter and corporate communications director, Tricia Skinner cast off traditional journalism for the freedom of fiction writing.
Angel Bait
is her urban fantasy romance debut. Her reading tastes are all over the place, but she’s mainly drawn to fantasy (and its subgenres), paranormal, sci-fi, and history.

In those rare moments when she’s not writing, Tricia is a newbie “green” practitioner, a fitness procrastinator, and a technology geek. She is a mother and a wife. Her family includes two Great Danes.

Tricia is the Web Editor for Pony Express(ions), the online literary journal of the Masters of Liberal Studies Program at Southern Methodist University. She also volunteers with SMU’s The Writers Path. In December 2012 she received a master’s degree in Creative Writing from SMU.

She welcomes correspondence from readers. Visit her online at
www.TriciaSkinner.com
, or
www.facebook.com/AuthorTriciaSkinner
.

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