Final Surrender (12 page)

He pulled his head back to see her bite her bottom lip, unsure of his request.

“For me?” he asked with a sultry grin.

She smiled, reaching one of her hands down to pull her pussy lips back for him.

She held herself open with one hand as he continued to spear her again and again with an erection that still grew.

She licked two fingers seductively on the other hand and slid them across her engorged clit. After years of pleasuring herself she knew exactly what she liked and he watched and learned from her hands.

When she saw the lust-filled gaze that raked over her pussy she was emboldened. “This is what I like, Clay.” She pulled her pussy lips farther apart and ran her fingers along where they were joined, then circled her clit with their wetness.

“This is what I used to do when I thought of you. I would finger myself or use a vibrator and close my eyes and think of you.” She closed her eyes as she remembered how it was before.

“What would you think about? What would I do to you in your fantasies?” Clay asked while he pushed her leg farther back against her body. She liked that he put her where he wanted her. He knew exactly what would bring them both pleasure.

She turned her smoky gaze back to him and said, “I would imagine your head between my legs, licking at my clit with two or three fingers buried in my pussy. Then I would imagine you fucking me in the ass doggy style while you reached around and fingered me, while I rubbed my clit with a purpose.”

Clay’s mouth dropped open at her bold statements. “You are the fucking hottest girl. How am I ever supposed to go back to the Marines with you talking to me like that?”

“Well, we’d better make tonight count then, huh?”

Angela wrapped her top leg over his waist and pulled herself closer to his hips.

Clay ran his hands up her rib cage and held her breasts in his hands as she pulled his face to hers. She plastered her mouth to his, taking his mouth to do with as she pleased and ran her tongue over his.

She moaned into his mouth as he pinched her nipples. “Like that, do you?”

Her orgasm flared out of nowhere and she ground her hips over his cock as he sped up his rhythm. She gasped as he came inside her again. She felt his spasms timed perfectly with hers as she milked him. “I like everything you do, Clay…everything!”

There were stars dancing behind her eyelids as he ran his hands down her rib cage and around to her back and held her backside to him as her muscles continued to contract around him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that. I love hearing you come. The little noises you make could turn a man of stone into a poet.”

Angela trailed her fingers down his jaw and his throat and over to his shoulder, and held on to his biceps as they were matched so intimately.

“Feeling you moving inside me is beyond words. I fantasized about you for so long I wondered if the reality of it could live up to my expectations.” She giggled and it sent a wave of pleasure through her. They both groaned.

Clay blinked a few times before he peered at her, smoothing her hair away from her face.

“Well, how did I stack up?”

She looked up at him and with a very serious face said, “Now I know what to really fantasize about. I can’t wait to learn all your little secrets.” She tried to cover her yawn and Clay slipped out of bed, recovering the comforter long since discarded on the floor.

They settled in bed, Angela rolled onto her stomach, and Clay laid an arm protectively across her back.

Within just a minute she was asleep, and right before drifting off she thought she heard Clay whisper into the dark, “But what are we going to do when the sun comes up…”

Chapter Twelve

Angela lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, lost in what happened that night and everything that changed when they woke up the next morning.

Sleep had been touch and go for hours after she fled her kitchen and what she still felt for him. Being chilled finally drove her out of bed so she could grab a robe. Wanting to sneak down the hall and crawl into bed with him sounded like a very bad idea but it was all she wanted. She had finally fallen asleep a little after three, wishing she would hear his footsteps coming to her, but the house remained deathly quiet.

She hated herself for still wanting him, despised the throbbing between her thighs that wouldn’t stop. And the constant memories that flooded her every waking thought. His hands on her, his tongue exploring, learning her secrets, finding ways to make her scream with pleasure.

Why couldn’t she just let him go? How did he walk back into her life and make her feel like no time had passed? He had grown up and so had she, but she still felt like a teenager when he looked at her, all giggly and antsy. It was as if he could look at her and know her thoughts.

The city called to her below her window. Her gritty eyes were hard to keep open so she rubbed them several times. Didn’t help.

Lights still fuzzed as she stared at the quiet street.

She was so sure of herself, of everything she wanted to do and accomplish in life that, damn it, this man was not going to come in and ruin everything. After a deep breath, and counting to ten, she tried to focus on something that would help her feel better.

Coffee. And a paper.

That sounded awesome.

And normal.

Walking to the closet to grab clothes and shoes, she hesitated.

Maybe she shouldn’t go out. Not this early. In the near dark.

Or she should wake Clay or Mark and ask one of them to go with her.

She rolled her eyes and kept moving. She wasn’t going far, just a few steps away from her apartment. Tossing the robe at the end of the bed, she pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, plus socks and shoes and a fleece pullover to keep her warm during her stroll down the block.

Sneaking down her own hallway wasn’t exactly something she thought she’d ever be doing. Creeping past the guest rooms occupied by her brother and the man she lo—

Not going there.

A step creaked as she moved down the stairs and she immediately froze.

Holding her breath, waiting for them to catch her, made her feel guilty so she exhaled, making extra noise and stepped down to the main floor. This was her life and her home and, by God, Clay wasn’t going to show up and make her forget everything she had worked so hard for.

They were just being paranoid.

Kind of.

She hesitated again at the door and ran her fingers over the healing scar on her wrist. Her safety was important. She recognized that, but staying inside, shaking like a scared Chihuahua didn’t sit well with her either. It was only a block down the street to get a coffee and paper. She’d even bring them back something. A peace offering should appease him. Them. She meant them.

A note!

She should leave a note. She grabbed a notepad from behind the front counter, told them what she was doing and went back upstairs, leaving the paper on the kitchen table.

Feeling better about informing him of her plans, she didn’t hesitate as she grabbed the door lock.

The tumbler on the door snapped as she opened the door and relief swept over her. Being inside was awesome until you did it because you were scared.

She stepped outside, locked the door behind her and stood in the crisp morning air. After looking both ways to make sure no one was there, and listening to her Spidey sense…she snickered at her own joke and leaned back against the building.

Nothing seemed out of place. Fear didn’t close in on her. It was just a nice morning.

Yeah, okay, butt-crack-of-dawn morning, but it was past five o’clock so it counted. Barely. Close enough.

Closing her eyes for a second, she stepped away from the building and headed down the block. Birds were singing and the breeze smelled like honeysuckle.

Umm…

Actually, there were cabs honking and it smelled a bit like garbage when the wind wasn’t blowing but whatever. She was outside and nothing was going to ruin her happy.

Lazily, she made her way to the coffee stand and Enrique greeted her as he did every morning.

“Hello, pretty fashion lady.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Hello, handsome coffee man.”

He grabbed a paper for her and set it on the counter. “You haven’t been by the past few days. You okay? I worry about you.”

“Join the club,” she murmured under her breath as he filled a cup of coffee. “Can I get three today? And I’ve been okay.” Mostly not a lie. “Been really busy.” Definitely not a lie.

“But you were hurt last week, no?”

“It was nothing.”

He gave her a funny look. “Nothing doesn’t give you a bump on the head and a cut on your arm.” He patted her hand and turned around to make more coffee. “Three today. For you anything.”

“You say that to all the girls.”

“Yes. But for you I actually mean it.” He set the other coffees on the counter.

Adding cream and sugar to her coffee, she tried to laugh off his worry. “Sweet talker.”

He grinned from ear to ear, as he took her money and made her change. “You need help getting these back to your place? Hermano will be back in just a minute from making a delivery and he could help you.”

“No, no,” she told him, pocketing her change as she tucked the paper under her arm and lifted hers to take a sip. “This is awesome. Mmm…and I’ll be fine. It’s close.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely.”

Enrique glanced over her shoulder and his eyes went wide.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Angela whipped around, letting go of the first cup of coffee and it splashed to the ground. The man dressed in black, hovering over her, latched on to her wrist and yanked her toward him. The paper scattered in the wind and Angela screamed. Fighting the hold he had on her arm, panic took over and she lost her balance.

Hitting the concrete, she scooted backwards on her elbows and tried to get away. The lights above him hid his face and he kept advancing.

Something was in his hand.

“Clay!” she screamed for help, as her back touched the wall of a building.

Trapped.

She was trapped and the man kept coming.

Clay awoke with nothing more than a few really shitty hours of sleep.

He was beat but knew waiting in bed wasn’t going to make the morning’s meet and greet with his
client
any easier.

He made his way into the kitchen wearing a T-shirt and pajama pants, to find nothing but silence and a note left on the kitchen counter.

Went to get a paper.

Angela

Clay looked at the clock. It was 6:08 a.m.

He flipped the piece of paper over, completely perplexed as to where the rest of the info was.

When had she left, how long would she be, or even where she went? Downstairs or downtown?

He mumbled a curse under his breath, quickly backtracking to his room to get dressed. Having to needle in a haystack Angela on the first damn day without even a drop of coffee in his system was gonna suck like a shop vac.

Mark snoring away down the hall just pissed him the fuck off. It took all his focus not to storm in and tell the guy where he could shove protecting his sister. Instead, he jerked a clean gray T-shirt on over blue jeans that road low over his hips, revealing a six-pack, flat belly that was rolling in anxiety.

She couldn’t be that naïve. Truly, she couldn’t. Flitting about like her life was all hunky-dory and she didn’t have a mad man nipping at her heels.

When he got a hold of her he was going to…

He yanked on his favorite Nike sneakers when he heard the door downstairs open.

The gun lying next to him on the bed was in his hand, safety off, before he could even think of the possibilities of what he would be walking into.

God help anyone who laid a finger on his Angela. She was his, and he protected what was his.

He stood at the end of the hallway, gun up and ready, waiting for the person coming upstairs to show themselves.

Angela’s head peeked over the top step and he hit the safety on his weapon.

“Where the hell have you been?” Clay spat out as soon as she stepped into the living room.

She jumped, dropping the newspaper she had under her arm, but managed to save the coffee as she leaned against the wall. Trembling?

“Karma is determined not to let me read the paper today.”

Her voice was shaky as all hell. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Waters. Did you sleep well?” she added as nothing more than a brush off. She stepped around the corner into the kitchen to set down the coffee.

“Good morning, my ass, Angela. Where the hell have you been?” he asked again with ice in his voice. He came up behind her and glared at the back of her head. “And why is your back all dirty?”

She spun around, brushing at her backside and winced. “I left a note,” she explained while side stepping him to go back into the living room.

He followed close behind her as she tried to gather up the paper.

Her hands shook so badly, he knelt down and did it for her. She made a grab for it but he clomped away and threw it on the coffee table before wrenching out her note from his pocket.

“What, this piece of scrap paper?” he held it up before crumpling it and tossing it on top of the newspaper. “The one that gave me no idea where you were and for how long? Yup, I found it.”

Angela stared back at him, quivering. “After last night you’re lucky I left a note at all, or one without cuss words in it.”

“Why the fuck are you shaking so bad? Were you attacked? Is that why you’re dirt—”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.”

He moved her to a chair and eased her down. Gentle was going to be tough when adrenaline pumped in his veins. He loomed over her and she sat back, staring at him with a slight glare in her eyes. “Tell. Me. What. Happened.”

“Mr. Waters, I have no intention of telling you where I’m going every second of every day,” she said through clenched teeth.

“The fuck you won’t if this is going to work,” he demanded. “Something happened and you’re not leaving this chair until you tell me what it was.”

She huffed out a breath and folded her arms across her chest. “Someone startled me when I was getting coffee. Which is now getting cold.”

“Screw the coffee. What happened?”

“One of my employees surprised me. It was kind of dark. I sort of freaked out. Might have caused a bit of a scene.”

Clay ground his teeth together and tried for patience. “Who?”

“Jose.”

He raised an eyebrow and waited.

She huffed out a breath but at least seemed to relax a bit. “He was there to see the people who own the stand. I didn’t realize they knew each other. Long-lost cousins or something. Even surprised, Enrique. Anyways. He scared me and I dropped a cup of coffee. He didn’t want me to get burned so he tried to pull me out of the way. I freaked, fell over, screamed a couple times. Made an impersonation of a crab. He came at me with napkins in his hand, trying to help me back up and to dry off my shoes. I was so panicked he had to talk to me like I was a cornered animal. It wasn’t pretty. I’m glad it was early and there weren’t too many people out.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing but my pride.” She grimaced as she shifted in the chair. “And my backside.”

“You’re not being paranoid, Angela. You’re being smart. Finally. Sort of. The only way I can protect you is if I am
with you
. If I have to sleep in your bed to make sure that happens, then that’s what I’ll do.”

She was on her feet, toe to toe, with him in less than a heartbeat.

“Don’t think you can tell me what to do, Mr. Waters. This is all on a trial basis, and pissing me off two days in a row isn’t helping your average right now, bucko.” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger to emphasize her point, and he clenched his fists, grinding his teeth again.

“The first thing we need to do is set some ground rules,” Clay decided. “Rule number one: do
not
call me Mr. Waters. Do it one more time and I will paddle that pretty little ass of yours.”

She didn’t miss a beat before retorting, “Number two: you don’t sleep in my room, much less my bed.”

Her irises grew darker, like the midnight sky, and for a moment he thought about kissing her. He was close enough, no doubt, and she was absolutely just as turned on as he was. He’d bet his military pension on it.

Dammit, this is not what I want!

Mark chose that particular moment to open his door and begin rolling his suitcase down the hall. Neither of them moved a muscle.

“So, already at each other’s throats this morning, I see.” Mark came around the corner.

“Not yet,” Clay said.

“I’d win,” Angela answered at the same time they retreated from each other.

Clay went to the kitchen, grabbed one of the coffees, threw her a glare over his shoulder and stomped downstairs.

Mark made his way over to where Angela stood, fuming.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he took a seat on the arm of the chair next to her.

She snatched up the newspaper, crumpled it and then tossed it down again. Staring at her brother, a look of trepidation marred his face.

For just a second she wanted to tell him everything. About back home and why she didn’t visit, but her mouth wouldn’t form the words.

“I’m fine,” she answered.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“No, no,” she said holding up her hands and brushing off the sleeves of her jacket. “One babysitter is quite enough, thank you.”

“Just promise me you’ll give him a chance.”

Mark made the
please
face at her and her resolve to be bitchy just wouldn’t hold up.

“I’ll do my best,” she said without enthusiasm. He wrapped her in a big brotherly hug and she held on tight.