Spanked by an Angel [Notorious Nephilim 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

“You okay?” Zach’s concerned voice made her heart skip a beat. They’d just told her one whopper of a story, complete with a cruel fate for both of them, and yet he was asking about her state of mind. Maybe they deserved their punishment, maybe they didn’t. She didn’t feel qualified to judge the situation.

She turned to face them. “Are there others? Angels, I mean. Walking around here, masquerading as humans.”

Emmett smiled at her in such a tender way she had to plant her feet firmly on the tile floor. All she wanted to do was cross the room and kiss him until she couldn’t breathe.

“You’d be surprised by the number of them, Abigail.”

“But…I don’t know how to ask this. You do everything a human does, right? I mean, you can get sick, you eat, you drink…”

“We need food and water,” said Zach, “and we have the same body functions as anyone else. But we can’t get sick. Not even a common cold. We’re immune to human diseases, and that means we can’t pass any on, either.”

“So you really don’t need to use condoms.” Abigail blushed as she spoke, remembering how she’d been momentarily panicked when she realized Emmett hadn’t used one the second time they made love.

Emmett laughed. “No, not at all. We keep up the pretense for the sake of our guests.”

She took a sip of water and watched their faces, hoping there wasn’t more to this story. If someone had told her this months, or even weeks, ago, she’d have laughed in their faces and walked away. But it made sense now. In the short time she’d been here, some seriously strange shit had taken place. What they’d told her made all the pieces fit together.

Her father had taught her to look at every case they took on in the firm as a puzzle, waiting to be put together. The pieces were there. They simply needed to be put in the right order, and then the entire picture would be revealed. If she approached their story and the experiences she’d had since arriving as the absolute truth, the picture became clear. The only logical conclusion, therefore, was that they were telling the truth.

“Abigail, do you believe us now?” asked Zach, his warm voice soft and seductive.

“I have no reason not to.” She took another sip. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but would you two mind leaving me alone for the rest of the day? I need time to absorb all this.”

Disappointment flooded his features. “Will you still come to the party?”

“I think so. Tiffany went to a lot of trouble helping me with a costume. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

Emmett grinned. “She said you look hot in it.”

Abigail laughed to cover her embarrassment. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

“Are you sure you want us to leave?”

Emmett’s voice washed over her like warm water. It would be so easy to cross the room and give in to the wild fantasy of making love to both of them. Even her newfound understanding of why they held such power over her hadn’t dampened her desire for either man. But she needed time with her own thoughts for now.

“I’ll see you both at the party.”

In his room, Zach warmed up his voice and ran through the songs an hour before the party because he didn’t want to sound unprepared in front of Abigail. Reeve had given him their planned set list earlier. He remembered most of the songs, but not enough to know the lyrics by heart, and he refused to stand onstage with a piece of paper in his hand. That was for amateurs.

He’d watched Abigail’s face carefully as they told her the story. Zach believed he knew the exact moment when she finally believed them. It was when he said choosing a mortal existence was the only way they could earn redemption. The sympathy that had passed over her beautiful face touched Zach’s heart. She felt sorry for them. He could count the number of women in ninety years who had expressed empathy when told of their fate. They were few and far between.

When Emmett answered her question of what he considered to be someone different, Zach had wanted so badly to tell her they meant someone like her, but he held back. It was too much, too soon. He could barely understand her pull on him as it was. If she had pushed him to elaborate, he wouldn’t have been able to, and his words would have sounded contrived. The last thing he wanted to do was have her look at him the way she had the morning after they’d made love. She hadn’t believed him when he told her that had been one of the most erotic nights of his life. Would he have the chance to make love to her again?

He recalled the way she’d blushed when Emmett had explained how they discovered women liked it when two of them made love to one. Was that also one of her erotic fantasies—to make love to both of them? Zach groaned and threw the sheet music on his desk so he could adjust the bulge in his jeans. He’d be fucking rock hard onstage all night. There was no way to avoid it. And with the tight cheetah-print pants he’d chosen, the entire room would know.

Zach made his way to the ballroom as Niko and Reeve were finishing sound checks. Emmett and Gregory were helping Tiffany and some of the other staff put the finishing touches on the decorations. They’d decided to go for the nightclub look, and even though the eighties hadn’t been one of Zach’s favorite decades, he had to admit Emmett and Gregory had pulled it off.

“You singing tonight?” asked Gregory as Zach hopped onto the stage.

“Planning on it.”

“That hot brunette gonna be here?”

Zach seethed inside at Gregory’s words. Emmett told him how he and Abigail had walked in on Gregory and two women in the hot tub, and what Gregory had said to Abigail.

“Maybe.”

“You two share her yet, or is she too uptight for that?”

Tiffany blushed and moved to another table. There was nothing wrong with the centerpiece she began to rearrange, but she’d learned when to move out of earshot of Gregory’s instigating words.

Zach glared at Gregory. “Why don’t you concentrate on making sure this place is ready for
all
our guests, okay?”

“I’d like to melt that ice princess.”

Emmett grabbed Gregory’s arm, and he must have twisted fairly hard because Gregory yelled and tried to pull away. Emmett always did have more strength than the others.

“Talk about her again like that, and I’ll knock your fucking head off. Got it?”

The wicked smile didn’t reach Emmett’s eyes. Zach watched in fascination. He rarely saw Emmett angry. Even when they’d stood in front of the archangels and their punishment was read from a scroll it took two seraphim to hold, Emmett had remained impassive, almost bored. His sense of humor had kept them all from ripping each other apart that first decade.

He finally let go of Gregory’s arm, and the man moved away to help some of the staff finish hanging up the wall coverings. Zach hopped off the stage and took Emmett aside. Several pairs of eyes followed their progress. He didn’t like it when they argued in front of the staff.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. Look, I know Gregory is an ass, but I wouldn’t worry about Abigail falling victim to him. You said she gave him a look that would freeze water, right?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Then let him talk. It’s what he does.”

Emmett shook his head. “She’s not an ice princess. I don’t want anyone to think of her that way.”

Zach studied Emmett’s face carefully, and when he noticed the slight twitch under his right eye, he suddenly knew what had set his friend off. Emmett usually let things roll off his back, but occasionally he let a woman get under his skin. The twitch always gave him away when Zach or one of the others tried to confront him about his feelings.

Emmett was falling for Abigail.

“Well, we know that. Does it really matter what Gregory or the others think? Come on. Help us with sound checks. Let Gregory work on the decorations.” Zach glanced around the room. “Where’s Demetrius?”

Emmett pointed. “In the corner with two blondes.”

Zach grinned. “He always did prefer them.”

“Yeah, but couldn’t he have picked a better costume than old-school rapper? Those pants are ridiculous.”

The two guffawed at the sight of Demetrius in satin balloon pants. Only the open vest saved him because his six-pack was visible.

“I wonder if he’ll take off the Ray-Bans when the lights go down?” asked Emmett.

“If he doesn’t, he’ll trip over those pants and land on his face.”

“At least he doesn’t think he’s Don Johnson.” Zach eyed Gregory’s white blazer, light blue shirt open at the collar, and white linen pants. He’d even managed to pull off the scruffy facial hair look. But with his slicked-back jet-black hair and green eyes, he looked less like Detective James Crockett than he did like Zorba the Greek if he’d wandered into the wrong century.

* * * *

Most of the tables were filled by the time Zach finally spotted Abigail. She strolled in as he started singing “Faithfully.” It was all he could do to concentrate on the words. Tiffany’s assertion that Abigail looked hot in her costume was a gross understatement. She was downright smoking.

The black-and-white zebra-print minidress showed off her toned legs, and the corset belt accentuated her breasts. Black tights ended in short, sexy black boots with buckles and stiletto heels. Matching jewelry adorned her wrists and earlobes. She’d done something to her hair to make it big, like most of the women in the room had done, but on Abigail, it made her look as though she’d just crawled out of bed after a hot fucking.

Zach’s cock hardened to the point of pain. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the words, but all he wanted to do was leap off the stage and drag her into the nearest empty room. Come to think of it, the floor of this ballroom would do just fine.

He opened his eyes again to find she’d moved closer to the stage, a standout among the other women crowding in around her. Dark eyes, warm and full of lust, traveled over his form. When her gaze met his again, she smiled. He sang to her, watching the emotions cross her face. Ice princess? Hardly. She was thinking the same thing he was. It was written in her eyes and in the way she swayed to the music, her breasts pushed slightly forward and her arms waving softly at her sides.

When the song finished, she hollered and clapped with everyone else. They were only halfway through the set, and Zach didn’t know how he’d finish. As they started “Hungry Like the Wolf,” Zach began to move around the stage in an effort to calm his raging hormones a bit. If he didn’t look directly into her eyes, he might make it to the end of the set without coming in his pants.

* * * *

Abigail was blown away from the moment she’d entered the ballroom. It reminded her of being at a rock concert. Tiffany spotted her and skipped over, dressed in pink leg warmers, a black lace miniskirt, and a sequined crop top falling off one shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she gushed. “Don’t they sound great?”

Abigail hadn’t been listening to the music. She was too busy staring at Zach in cheetah-print pants so tight they left nothing to the imagination. Fringed boots with platform heels and a tight sleeveless black shirt completed the look of sexy rock star. He’d styled his hair into a decent copy of Billy Idol during his
Rebel Yell
days. The effect was intoxicating. She couldn’t look away. The fact his voice was a combination of raspy and sexy pushed her over the edge. If he held out his hand, she’d take it and follow him anywhere.

As she and Tiffany made their way closer to the stage, Tiffany explained the drummer was Nikolas Fallon—whom everyone called Niko—and the tall man playing the bass was Reeve Neville. The rest of the band was made up of staff with musical talent who helped out during parties. Niko had brown hair and blue eyes, and a face that looked as though it had been chiseled from marble. Reeve had the perfect thin body and smoldering dark eyes to pull off a sexy bass player, but as handsome as both men were, Abigail kept her attention on Zach.

He winked at her as he finished “Faithfully.” She smiled and watched him dance across the stage as the band struck the opening chords of another Duran Duran song. When someone’s hand grabbed her breasts from behind, she jumped.

“Hey beautiful.” Emmett’s warm voice washed over her as the scent of coconut and vanilla filled the air. “Enjoying the show?”

She shrugged out of his embrace and turned to face him. “I sure am.”

“You want a drink?”

Abigail nodded. When he walked away, she admired the way his ass looked in tight leather pants. The Van Halen T-shirt he wore accentuated his muscles, and high-topped sneakers completed the image. Up until Tiffany arrived to help with her hair, she hadn’t been sure she’d make an appearance, but was suddenly glad she’d decided to come.

As soon as he and Zach had left her room earlier, she’d collapsed onto the floor and hugged her knees. She thought about everything they’d just told her and the experiences she’d had since her arrival. The power they seemed to have over the women here, their unique scents, and the reason they made love as though they weren’t human all came rushing at her like a sudden wind.

Intellectually, it wasn’t difficult to accept what they’d told her as the truth. The fact that the resort had been in business for ninety years corroborated their story, as did the photographs she’d seen. What she found difficult to believe was that so few people had figured out their secret. Had Sharon known the truth? She’d never said anything about it, but would Abigail have believed her if she had? She’d been skeptical at first of everything Sharon had said about this place.

Emmett returned and handed Abigail a glass. She took a sip and immediately pulled back. “Whoa. Is there anything in here besides rum?”

His grin flooded her thong. “Nope. Drink up. This is a party, and I’ve been ordered to make sure you have a good time.”

“Ordered?”

“Zach told me if he saw you doing anything besides smiling, he’d bust my chops.”

She drained her glass, closing her eyes against the dizziness. It passed in a few moments. “Maybe I should have another one now, then.”