Out of the Dark (Forbidden Love) (9 page)

     “I am pleased to meet you, Brandon.  I am Angel, and this is—”

     “Jacque,” Brandon finished for him.  “Wow.  I mean, really, wow.  It’s a pleasure,” he stammered, extending a hand in the two men’s direction.  He shook both their hands fervently,
and a little bit too long.

     “Has Brea told you about our upcoming
party?” Angel asked.

     “Yeah, and I gotta say, it sounds great.  Brea’s got a real flair for planning.  You couldn’t have picked anyone better for the job.”

     “Would you like to attend?  I am sure Brea wouldn’t mind a friend or two there with her.  It will be, as you might call it, an all-nighter.”

     “Hell yes, I want to come!  Just give me a time and place and I will be there!”

     “I wasn’t sure if I was going to be there,” Brea said to no one in particular.

     “
Of course you will attend,” Angel said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Besides, you already have your dress.”

     Brea
’s cheeks flushed and she turned her stunning smile on Angel.  “Great.  Can I invite Keelie too?  She would be heartbroken if I left her out.”

     “Of course, anything you like.  Just remember our agreement.”

     “No problem.  I can handle it.”

     “Perhaps you would like to see the studio,” Jacque suggested to Brandon.

     “Oh hell yes.  I’m there.  This is every man’s dream come true!”  Jacque led Brandon out of the room and Brea and Angel followed.  Brandon oohed and awed at everything, and by the time he left, he had autographs and cd’s and an enormous chip on his shoulder.  Brea gave her friend a chaste kiss on the lips as he was leaving.  Angel wished he could lavish affection on this woman so easily, so freely.  Soon, he promised himself.

     Retreating to her room, Brea was smiling.  It was exceptionally nice of Angel to invite her friends.  He was exceptional about most things.  He was too good to be true, despite the fact that he was a vampire.  Brea had feared him at first, but she found herself trusting him entirely.  She was within three feet of her bedroom door when someone grabbed her from behind.  Strong arms wrapped around her waist and hot breath tickled her ear.

     She absolutely recognized the man holding her hostage.  His spicy scent was forever engraved into her memory.  Angel forced her into her room, shutting and locking the door behind them.  “Time for payback,” his voice rasped in her ear.

     Brea found herself leaning face first into the wall.  Angel had every inch of his hard body pressed against the back of hers, keeping her in that position.  He raised her hands over her head
and placed her palms on the cool wall.  “Don’t move them, no matter what,” he commanded.  Brea’s heart thundered in her chest.  Being in that position required complete trust.  Knowing it was probably something she would come to regret later, she didn’t move.

     His hands found their way up her sweater across the bare skin of her stomach.  His touch traveled upward to the swell of her breasts.  He formed them both with his hard hands, and her nipples grew hard against his palms.  She arched her back, pressing into his hands, wanting more. 
Angel was surprised at her easy surrender.  He knew he was taking a huge chance, ambushing her in the hall.  After seeing her open affection with her friend, he was finding it more and more difficult to resist the urge to mark her as his own.  If he couldn’t mark her, he would settle for making one hell of an impression on her.  He imprint himself so firmly that she would never be able to even think of another man, vampire or otherwise.

     With deft hands, Angel pulled the sweater over her head slid the delicate straps of her bra off her shoulders.  He lavished wet kisses over the nape of her neck and shoulders, then unhooked the bra and let it drop to the floor.  His hands traveled down her sides to the swell of her hips.  He grazed her ear with his teeth and savored the shiver she responded with.
  He kissed down her spine.  Her muscles quivered under the heat of his mouth.

     Brea could hardly
breathe.  Angel was worshiping her body like a starving man.   His touch was gentle, but demanding.  His magnificent mouth covered her skin in searing open kisses. Everything in her mind was screaming at her to stop him, but her body betrayed her at every turn. When his trail led to the waist of her skirt, he gently unzipped it and pushed it over her hips.  She smiled when she heard the sharp intake of air into his lungs when he saw her choice of undergarments.  There was barely enough material to the thong to be considered panties.  He dropped to his knees and nipped at her bottom with his teeth.  Then he soothed the same spot with swirls of his tongue.  “Angel,” she gasped, taken surprise by the immediate surge of heat between her legs.

     “
Ma Cher,
all you have to say is stop, and I will,” he whispered against her skin.  But stopping was becoming the furthest thing from her mind.  She was blinded by the pleasure his touch invoked.  Mindless, wonderful, pleasure.  He continued his exploration of her skin down her legs, taking extra time to kiss the back of her knees and ankles.  Then, grabbing her hard by the hips, he spun her around to face him.

     Angel raised up to face her, guiding her arms back to the wall.  He allowed her to keep them down this time, palms pressed to the wall behind her. 
His eyes were a deep, deep green, darkened with the promise of a passion that Brea had never known.  He saw a flicker of doubt cross her face, and he quickly slanted his mouth over hers to chase it away.  “Trust me,” he mumbled into her mouth, and snaked his tongue inside.

     Brea fought to do as Angel asked.  She wanted so badly to knot her fingers in his silky hair and direct him to the places that were on fire for his
attention.  But she didn’t.   She kept her hands firmly against the cool wall.  He kissed her like no one had ever kissed her before.  They were searing, hot, branding kisses.  It was all Brea could do to remember to breathe.  His kiss moved across her jaw then down her neck.  He lingered over her pulse, which was pounding furiously, running his tongue over it again and again.  A small part of Brea was concerned that he might try to bite her, but another, more dominant part, didn’t care.  He was still fully clothed, although his erection was branding itself into her hip.

     His mouth dropped further to the valley between her exposed breasts.  He worked at her methodically, making sure every inch of her skin had been touched and kissed.  He palmed her breast, enjoying the feel of her protruding nipple against his palm.  He rolled the tight bud between his fingers until she was moaning rather loudly.  Only then did he take it into the seal of his mouth.  “Oh!” she cried out, wiggling against him, trying to get more stimulation.

     “More?”

    
“God, yes, more!”  He drew the point into his mouth and sucked hard.  “Angel, please,” she pleaded.  Brea didn’t know what she was pleading for, exactly. 

     “I know,” he said, turning his attention to the nipple he had been neglecting.  Brea was shaking her head and breathing in short gasps.  God, the way his mouth felt on her!  It was like nothing she had ever felt before. 

     Angel wasn’t sure how much more he could take.  The fact that he was still dressed was a testimate to his self-control.  He laved his tongue down her stomach and over the soft scrap of lace that was her panties.  “Angel,” she breathed, but there was just a hint of uncertainty in her voice.  “Trust me,” he said.

     He slipped his thumbs under the sides of her panties and pulled them to the floor, and she stepped out of them
carefully.  Angel awed at the hairless apex of her legs.  Unable to stop himself, Angel slipped his tongue into her soft folds.   He could not muffle his growl of pleasure when her taste exploded in his mouth.  Her hands found their way into his hair, despite his instructions.  He didn’t mind, actually, he rather liked having snapped her control.  She fisted his hair and pulled, causing Angel’s control to teeter dangerously close to his breaking point. 

     He raised his hands over her hips,
and then slid one finger inside her.  God, she was wet.  Her wetness was covering his hand quickly.  When she thrust her hips forward into his hand, he felt the barrier inside her.  She was a virgin.  Angel reeled in his desire; he would not betray her trust.  But she was crying out his name and bucking wildly against his mouth and hand.  Angel did the only thing he could do.  With his free hand, he unzipped his pants and let his cock free.  He fisted himself  and began to pull in long, hard strokes.  He knew she was so close.  She just needed a little push.

     “Come for me,” he urged her.  And to further his request, he nipped her clit with his teeth,
then soothed it with his tongue.  It pushed her over the edge.   Her nails dug into his head and shoulders and she let out a scream.  “Angel!” she cried as her entire body rocked with the force of her orgasm.  It was what he had been waiting for.  Angel let out an animalistic growl as his climax took him.

     Brea’s legs felt like
Jell-O.  That was by far the most intense feeling she had ever experienced.

     The alley was pitch dark, perfectly shadowed from the street.  He watched the woman walk at a brisk pace, knowing she knew she was being watched.  Stalking was half the fun of the hunt.  He followed just close enough to alert her senses to him, but far enough back that she could not see him.  She was thinking that her mind was playing tricks on her.

     He had followed her three nights in a row.  She left the small diner every night at nine sharp, crossed through the park, and ducked down this alley to her apartment. 
He had wanted her first, but was unable to find her after the concert.  So he had been forced to do the other three first.  It seemed luck was on his side when he entered the diner three nights earlier and saw her behind the counter.  The uniform the owner imposed on his employees was ridiculous, the striped apron and short skirts, high heels and that stupid hat.  Although, the pumps did accent her shapely legs perfectly, he thought. 

     The woman stopped at the end of the alley and dared a glance over her shoulder.  He could smell her fear, it was stronger than before.  It was more potent than any perfume, more than any aphrodisiac. He drew the scent deep into his lungs, relishing the way it affected his body.  His own heart sped to a steady gallop, adrenaline buzzed in his ears, and his groin tightened almost painfully.  He suppressed a growl and lurched forward.  His mouth watered in anticipation.  He would taste her soon.  Yes, so soon.  He wondered if she would taste as sweet as she smelled.  He wanted to
grab her blonde hair by the fist full, to ravish her body while she screamed.  The fact that she would be terrified made it all the better.  Fear was like a drug to him now.  He was addicted; he could not stop himself.   After he took her body, he would taste her.  He would taste her until the light disappeared from her lovely eyes.

     “How do you feel?” Angel asked, trailing a lazy finger down Brea’s arm.
  They were laying on Brea’s bed, Angel still clothed, and Brea in an oversized sleep shirt.

     “Nice,”
Brea smiled, “wonderfully sated and a little bit tired.”  Angel chuckled silently.  That was just the answer he wanted to hear.  He continued to lightly caress her arm, enjoying the goose bumps his touch caused on her delicate skin.

     “So, about this party,” he started.

     “I have been working with Ricco on it.  He has rented a bar for the occasion, and tables too.  I am going shopping in the morning with Keelie; we are going to pick out the table cloths and other decorations.  Hancock Fabrics is having a big sale, so I think I could probably get enough material to cover all the tables and the bar and the curtains I want to make for the price of precut table cloths alone somewhere else.”

     “Have everything charged to me,” Angel said.  “I think you will find that there is enough money to cover anything you need.”

     “I know that, but I can’t just needlessly blow money.  Even if it’s not mine.  You work hard for your money, and I don’t plan to waste it.  My mother would go berserk if she knew I had shopped irresponsibly.”

     “Tell me of you mother.  Is she as lovely as you?”
he asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

     “No.  My mother was the most beautiful woman in the world.  She always smelled like honeysuckle.  And her laugh!  I loved to make her laugh,” Brea said with a twinge of sadness.

     “Was.  Have you lost your mother, then?”

     “Three years ago.  She had cancer in her uterus.  She fought it for five years, even had a hysterectomy, but it was too late.  It spread to her other organs, and eventually, the cancer won.”

     “It must have been hard to watch,” Angel whispered.

    
“Only the last few months.  She was a pillar of strength.  When they took her reproductive organs, she had several months where she wasn’t sick.  When it came back, they took her breasts.  She had a total of six surgeries.  And she always had a smile, even when her hair fell out.  She didn’t buy a wig like my father wanted her to,  she just wrapped a bandana around her head.  The chemotherapy made her really sick, and at the end, the last few months, she decided to live what was left of her life without it.  She seemed well for a while, but eventually the disease took over.  She wasted away to nearly nothing.  She must have weighed eighty pounds when she died.  And when the day came, she left us with a smile on her face.”  Brea didn’t even try to stop the tears from running down her cheeks.