Out of the Dark (Forbidden Love) (17 page)

     Brea smiled a seductive smile, and untied her bath robe.
  It fell open just enough to give Angel a peak at the pale skin of her belly.  She fingered the lapels a moment, then let the robe slip from her shoulders into a pile on the floor.   She stood in front of him, naked and without a shred of self-consciousness.  Angel devoured her with his eyes from the top of her head to the painted toe nails of her feet.

     “Stand up, please.
”  Angel stood.  He fought every urge to touch her, not knowing exactly what she had in mind.  Brea closed the distance between them, laying her hands on his chest.  She ran her hands along the buttons of his shirt, then started to unfasten them.  “Stay still,” she told him, and he did. 

     With his shirt open, Brea kissed his chest, feeling with her hands under the fabric and around his sides.  She pushed the shirt open more and nipped at each of his nipples.  He sucked in a breath through his teeth when he felt
the scrape of her teeth against his flesh.  She pushed the shirt over his shoulders and dropped it to the floor.  “I love the way you taste,” she murmured against his skin.

     Angel groaned.  She was moving over his torso with aggravating slowness, taking time to explore him at every angle.  It was torture. 
Sweet, delicious, torture.

     Her hands found the button to his pants, and they too, fell to the floor.  It was a simple matter to step out of them, and Angel did so without her asking.
  Brea dropped to her knees in front of him and took his hard flesh into her hand.  “Ah, your touch makes me burn,” he cried, fisting his hands at his sides. 

     Brea only mumbled something unintelligible before she took him into her mouth.  “Oh fuck!”  Angel bellowed when she took him in deep.   She planted both of her hands on his ass and held him still while she worked her magic.  In mere minutes Angel felt the familiar pressure building in his loins and was nowhere ready to end his birthday present.  “Please Brea, I need to touch you, I’m not ready for this to end,” he pleaded with her.

     He felt cold air wrapping around him as her mouth left him.  A part of him wanted to shout out from the loss, but another, stronger part wanted to touch her.  She raised up his body, leaving a trail of wet kisses in her wake until she was standing again.  Brea took both of Angel’s hands and put them on her hips.  “Touch me then,” she said.

     Angel lowered his mouth to hers
.  There was no gentle, whispering kiss, no, he needed her.  He covered her mouth with his own, his tongue darting into her mouth immediately.  His hands wandered over her skin, feeling all she was offering to him.  He knotted one in her hair, and the other went to her breast.  She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed it with one of his own.  Angel drank her sweetness from her mouth like a man searching for his salvation.  When he moved from her mouth, he kissed down her jaw and neck.  He nipped at her pulse gently, then sucked on the skin.  He turned them both and pushed to the bed.

      Brea
landed on her back with Angel caging her underneath him.  He dipped his head lower and flicked his tongue over her nipple.  She weaved her fingers through his braided hair, desperately trying to remove the plait.  He nipped and licked at her until the nipple was swollen and sensitive.  Then, he took it into the seal of his mouth and drew hard.  “Angel!” she cried out, shaking her head.

     Brea was writhing from the sensations he was giving her, her body was wound up tight.  He moved to pay homage to the nipple he had been neglecting, and Brea felt the moisture pooling between her legs.  His kissed lower
still, and she thought she might die from the pleasure.

     “I need to taste you, Brea.
”  When he finally buried his mouth in her core, Brea locked her legs around his head, crying out for him repeatedly.  Just when she knew she was about to snap, she tugged on his hair, trying to pull him up.

     “Angel, Please,” she cried.  He rose up her body, lavishing kisses all the way.  One look into his eyes and Brea knew she made the right choice.  She reached between their bodies and took his erection in her hand.  He was rock hard and hot as hell.  “Please,” she said again, rubbing him in her wetness.

     Angel hissed.  “What are you doing?” he rasped out. 

     “What do you think I’m doing?”

     Angel warred with himself.  He wanted her, no, he needed her.  There was nothing he wanted more than to bury himself inside her.  But she was innocent.  No matter her age, no matter the circumstance, he could not take it from her.  “Brea, you don’t have to do that,” he said, hating each word as it left his lips.

    
This was her only chance to stop him, Brea knew.  Things were happening so fast that her mind was spinning, but she also knew that she didn’t want to stop him.  “I want to,” she said.

     “Are you sure?  There is no going back.  Are you sure after saving yourself all this time?”

     “I waited for twenty five years for the right man to come along.  One that I wanted bad enough, one that I trusted enough.  No matter what happens tomorrow, I will always know that I made a good choice with you,” she explained, tracing his face with a finger.  “Now, please, I want you, I need you inside me,”

     Angel growled and took her mouth in a soul searing kiss.  He moved his hand down to rub her sensitive nub, making her climb to those heights he wanted her at.  When he felt her body coiling, he positioned himself at her entrance.  “You know this will hurt a little, but only for a minute,” he warned her.

     “I know, just do it,” she panted out just as her control snapped.  She cried out his name and during the force of her orgasm, Angel pushed himself through her barrier and inside her.

    
Brea felt a flash of pain and her nails dug into his back, but it was quickly overwhelmed by pleasure.  She was shocked by how he filled her so completely, by how her body stretched to accommodate him.  Angel stayed very still inside her, allowing the pain to pass.

     Brea tilted her hips against him, and he sucked in a breath.  “Please,” he moaned.  “Just a minute, I need a minute.”  Angel fought the overwhelming urge to come right then and there.  Soon, the urge faded and he began to move.
  It took every bit of control he had to remember to be gentle with her.  The way she moved under him, the bite of nails on his back, the arch of her neck.  It was all tearing at his endurance.  

     Brea raised her head to nip at Angel’s neck.  Fire shot through his veins and he increased his tempo.  He wanted to taste her, to mark her.  But she had not given him that.  But the urge to give her himself was unendurable.  He
raised up enough to draw his nail over his throat.  A thin line of blood welled up and began to drip.  “Please Baby, please,” he begged her.

     Brea pulled his head down and sealed her mouth over the small cut.  Those bright lights exploded behind Angel’s eyes again and he felt her tightening around him.  Her tightly coiled body snapped and she came in waves around him.  Angel held the back of her head tightly to his neck and lifted her bottom off the bed with his other hand. 
Speed became all important as he thrust himself into her, the whole world slipped away from him and there was only himself and Brea.  Flashes of a life not yet lived ran through his mind, images of the two of them together, happily married and living one life together.  These images played like an old film before his eyes while his body rocked and shuddered as he gave her everything.  He gave her his body, his blood, his seed, his soul, everything.

     Brea was standing in a field of flowers.  The sun was shining on her face and the air was crisp and clean.  Everything had a hazy look about it, and she at once knew she was dreaming.  She had dreamed this before.  She let her eyes sweep the field until she saw him.   Angel was standing across from her.

     He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.  “
Je t’adore
,” he said in her ear.  He had said those words before, and Brea knew it was French.  She really liked it when he spoke in his native tongue.  For all she knew he could be giving her a good cursing, but it sounded wonderful and sexy from his lips.

     Angel walked away from her then, and she chased after him.  But before she could catch up, her conscious mind took over.

     Brea was awake.  She didn’t open her eyes, but she knew that she was in her bed.  There was a weight draped across her middle, and all the events of the night before rushed to the forefront of her mind.  She had given herself to Angel.  Three times, if her memory served correctly.  She breathed in deep, relishing his scent all over her.  Brea’s body was sore, but not anything worse than a day’s hard work.  And this work, she didn’t mind.

     Brea opened her eyes and rolled her head to the side.  The weight across her middle was an arm. 
Angel’s arm.  He was laying beside her, cradling her to his chest.  His eyes were closed and his face was  relaxed.  Brea studied his lax features.  His nose was straight, centered perfectly on his oval face.  His brows were dark and hovered over thick black lashes.  He was beautiful.

     There was much left to do before the party, and Brea couldn’t help from worrying that it wouldn’t get done.  Keelie was supposed to work a day shift and come over when she got off.  She was also supposed to bring Brandon with her.  She realized that she missed Brandon.

     Brea grudgingly rolled to her side and slipped out of Angel’s arms.  She had to shower and get dressed before going anywhere.  When she was clean, she would call Keelie and Brandon.  Since it was nearing four in the afternoon, she was also going to have to get in touch with the bartender she had hired.  Guests would be arriving at the Knight Estate by seven o’clock, and she wanted to be ready.  Fearing there wasn’t time enough to do everything, Brea rushed through her shower.

     Angel woke alone in Brea’s bed.  He had been dreaming again, a fact that he attributed to sleeping with Brea.  In fact, he had slept more soundly than usual.  He felt relaxed and revitalized.  He drew in a deep breath, pleased that he could still smell her everywhere.  He only wondered briefly where she had gone, then decided that Brea must have already gotten up to get things ready.  Angel jerked back the covers and pulled himself from the warmth and comfort of the bed.  There was company coming later, and he wanted to be ready.

      He smiled to himself when he considered the events of the night before.  It had been terrible, finding that poor dead girl, but had turned out rather nicely in the end.  He had the best birthday since he had been human.  He knew then that what he felt for Brea was far stronger than any physical attraction; he needed her.  He needed her like he needed blood to survive.  He had given himself to her the night before, and there was no going back for him.  He would always belong to the fiery red head.  He could only hope that one day she would grow to love him too.

******

     “Hey Rebel,” Brea greeted the man who played guitar for Angel.  “The bartender will be here soon, and I need to get these bottles unpacked.  Will you help me?”

     “Of course,
Mademoiselle
,” he answered.  His proper greeting reminded Brea about something she wanted to ask.   She had planned to ask Angel, but he was still sleeping.

     “What does
Je t’adore
mean?” she asked as they unloaded bottles of alcohol from the boxes.

     “Where did you hear that?” Rebel asked.

     “I’m not sure, I think I must have heard someone saying it.  Is it French?”

     “
Oui
, it is.  It means, ‘I adore you,’” he said with a smile.

     Brea smiled and thanked him.   There were other things that she wanted to know what they meant, but now she was too embarrassed to ask. 
Je t’adore
was what Angel had said to her in her dream.  If only he would say that for real!  Brea had been told by a number of boyfriends in her past that they loved her.  Most of them were only trying to get in her pants, but she knew that at least one of them had meant it.  It was a shame she hadn’t felt the same.  But you can love someone in a nonromantic way.  Brea loved her friends, and they loved her.  She loved dogs and cats and watching the stars.  To have someone say they loved her meant little more than to say ‘I care for you strongly.’ 

     But to have someone tell her they adored her!  That would be completely different.  To adore someone signifies something different.  It would be a far more powerful thing to be adored.  In order to adore someone,
one would not only be in love, but to genuinely like that person.  To hold that person dear, like a precious treasure.  You could love someone you didn’t even like.  Brea wished Angel would say those words again, this time in real life, not in a dream. 

     Brea had no doubt that Angel liked her.  He had done too many things for her just to want to sleep with her.  But he was famous.  He could have any woman he wanted.  She would be a fool to think she could hold his heart.  He had an entire clan to watch over, not to mention his career, and she had a job and a life to go back to the next day.