Unexpected Angel (12 page)

Rather than go
to the driver’s side, where I’d be tempted to lay into Zeke, I rap softly on the passenger’s side window. When Tasha turns toward me, her eyes lighten when she sees me. She quickly unlocks the car and eases herself out. “Is everything okay?”

I wipe
away the remnants of tears from her eyes. “Yeah, it looks like it was just your bedroom. Tommy wants to walk through with you and then we’ll head back to my place. You can grab what you need for tomorrow or we can go shopping in the morning, but you’re not staying here.”

If I
have my way, she won’t spend another night alone in this house ever. It’s not secure, the lighting is shitty, and it’s not my condo. I decide that when we finally discuss her safety and living arrangements, it might be premature to add in that last reason. I just have to hope my instincts are right and she is worth the trouble.

“I’ll get my
stuff.” She bows her head, not even trying to fight with me. She isn’t submitting to my demands, she’s in shock. The only sparkle in her eyes is the glistening tears that refuse to fall. I want to find a way to erase that pain for her, give her back the stolen pieces of her life. But how?

Tommy escorts
her into the house, leaving me time to talk to Zeke. “What the fuck was that?” I snarl, my fists clenched tightly at my sides.

Zeke
holds up his hands in surrender. No woman in either of our lives has been worth coming to blows over and yet I feel consumed by rage for the second time today because of Tasha. Over a girl I haven’t even kissed yet.
What the fuck is going on with me?

“Dylan, you need to calm down,” Zeke
says in a somewhat patronizing tone. “She doesn’t understand you. She’s tweaking because someone broke into her home. It’s a lot of shit to take in. We talked and I gave her a kiss on the cheek. End of story.”

It’s not
the end of the damn story. Not by a long shot. Why had he kissed her at all? “What do you mean she doesn’t understand me? What did she say to you?”

I follow
Zeke down the dark street to where he parked his car. The nearest streetlight to Tasha’s house is at least five houses away. There are too many shadows for someone to hide in, waiting for the right moment to strike and harm an unsuspecting single woman. No way in hell will Tasha be coming back here. I don’t care if I have to buy the damn house and evict her. It’s not safe.

“We talked a bit about how you and I don’t ask people to do things. She thinks we need to be nicer if we want others to do as we ask.”

“And what did you tell her?” This could go one of two ways. If Zeke was thinking clearly, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He may be far enough from the situation to explain things clearly. More likely, Zeke had diarrhea of the mouth and said all the wrong things.

Zeke rests
a hand firmly on my shoulder. “Relax. I turned it around on her. Asked her how it felt when her prick of an ex told her to do shit and then how it felt when you told her to do something she didn’t want to do.”

I want
to hear what she said in response to that, but there isn’t time. Tommy and Tasha are out of the house, standing on the front step while Tasha locks up. Before she can pick up her small suitcase and her laptop bag, Tommy grabs both and carries them to my car.
Good man.

“Look, I need to get her back to my place. Give me a call tomorrow because I’m going to need your help.” There
is no way I can get out of going to Pensacola so I need to know Zeke and Tommy will be around to take care of Tasha until I get back.

“Whatever you need, bud.” Zeke
gives me a quick man-hug and folds himself into his car. Watching him drive away, I know he is sincere. I may have momentarily lost my head when I saw him with Tasha, but he would never do anything to betray me that way.

(Tasha)

Dylan
winds his way around the lake from my house to his condo on nearly deserted streets. I have no clue what time it is or how long we were at my house, but I know it has to be late. I stare out the passenger’s side window, unable to make eye contact with him.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, you need to sto
p.” Dylan’s smooth voice pierces the silence inside the car. Rather than respond to him, I turn my entire body to the side, pulling my feet under me, and curling up in a ball on his seat. Why am I in this car with him? Why didn’t he lock me safely away in my house and then leave? We haven’t known one another much more than a day, so I can’t figure out why he has done any of the things he has for me.

My mind flashe
s with images of the messages left in my bedroom. I force myself to think about the writing, to think about who might have a reason to do something like that. Then, I remember how I reacted. I feel foolish for screaming, but knowing someone was in my home while I wasn’t makes my skin crawl, even now. I shudder at the thought, wondering if whoever did this has been there before.

From there, my mind flips to my phone. The text messages. Is there a connection between the two? I blew
both of them off as sent by mistake to a wrong number, but now I’m not so sure. ‘
If only I had known sooner…
’ If who knew what? ‘
It’s a great evening, isn’t it?
’ Two messages, both seemingly innocent, but when combined with the angry words in my home and the feeling I couldn’t shake all day that I was being watched. I refuse to tell Mr. Possessive but remind myself to let Tommy know when he comes by for my statement.

“Hey,” Dylan
says, softly placing a hand on my legs. His touch centers me, brings me back to the present. “It’s going to be okay, but you have to know that you’re not going back there.”

I sigh
heavily. “While that’s a nice thought, I have to go back. That’s where I live.”

Seriously, what
does he expect me to do?

“You can stay at my place. It’s a security locked building and there’s a guard who works overnights.”

I can’t help but laugh at his suggestion. It is ridiculous to think I should move in with him. We don’t even know one another. “Thank you, but I’m not going to impose on you. I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit me. Your cop friend suggested I change the locks, so I’m going to call the property management company on Monday to come and do that.”

Dylan stops
at the entrance to the underground parking garage long enough to enter his code. He turns to the front and doesn’t say another word to me until he parks the car and we are in the elevator.

“Look, I’m going out of town this week. I’d feel better knowing you’re safe. Obviously, someone has a problem with you right now and that means you could
be in danger.” His hands press into my upper arms, turning me to face him. The fact that his fingers stay rigid and the only pressure is from his palms does not go unnoticed. “Please, stay at my place while I’m gone. It would make me feel better.”

Is
this man for real?
I feel as though I am being punked because there is no way any man would open his home to a complete stranger, especially when he isn’t going to be there to make sure nothing goes missing.

“
Why does it matter?” I whisper as we walk into the elevator.

Dylan groans
, allowing his head to fall back and hit the side wall of the elevator car. “Do we really need to go over all of this again?” In two short steps, he presses his body against mine. “I will
always
take care of what is mine. Always.”

I
stand a bit taller and stare directly into his deep brown eyes so there is no way he can mistake what I am about to say. “And I told you…I’m. Not. Yours.”

His possessive streak might work on the women he normally
brings home, but I’m not one of his conquests. Hearing him laying claim to me once again, especially as I am trying to process everything that has happened in the past few hours ticks me off. How insensitive can he be?

Before I
know what is happening, Dylan places his hands on my hips and presses me against the back wall of the elevator. I want to protest, to tell him to get his hands off me, but he silences my words as his mouth crashes against mine.

(Dylan)

I need
Tasha to understand what I have been trying to tell her and words aren’t working. When she bites out the protest, once again, that she isn’t mine, I want nothing more than to pin her hands over her head and pound into her right here in the elevator. I want to bury my aching cock so deep inside of her that there is no question that our bodies belong together. I want to, but I also know that when I do finally claim her, it won’t be a quick fuck in a moving elevator. When the time comes, I want to take her body because she trusts me enough to give herself to me and I will savor every inch of her silky skin.

As I reach for her, my mind flashes
to her reaction earlier in the day when I playfully grabbed her wrists and my hands drop to the gentle curves of her hips instead. Before she can say another word, my mouth covers hers, taking advantage of her slightly parted lips. I feel her body tense beneath my hands and I start to back away. No matter how much my body tells me to continue, I will never force myself on her.

Surprising me
once again, Tasha’s arms wrap around my neck. Her own movements are tentative, as if her body and her brain are at war on how to proceed. When her tongue slides between my parted lips and she lets out a gentle moan, I weave my fingers into her blonde waves, keeping her mouth close to mine. With my other hand, I pull her hips close to mine, letting her feel the erection begging for freedom from behind my zipper.

Knowing she
is a willing participant, our kiss turns desperate. I want to remember everything about her, the way her tongue delicately explores my mouth, the fruity taste of the gum she was chewing earlier.

Al
l too soon, the elevator stops on the top floor and the doors open. Rather than allow any space to come between us, I grab Tasha’s ass and lift her off the ground. Her legs wrap around my waist and I smile, knowing she is just as into this as I am.

“What’s so funny?” She asks
, her lips still pressed to mine.

I
shake my head, not wanting anything to ruin the moment. “Nothing, Precious.” I shift her body in my arms, pressing her against the door long enough to dig the keys out of my pocket.

Once inside, I set her down on my leather couch, leaving her with one more kiss before retreating to the kitchen. Tommy
will be here any minute and I’m not about to have him interrupt anything between us.

(Tasha)

How Dylan
can turn from hot to cold faster than the flick of a light switch is beyond me. One minute, he has me pressed up against any vertical surface he can find, grinding his hips against me and the next, I am sitting alone in his living room while he rummages through the refrigerator.

“Drink this,” Dylan commands
, handing me a bottle of water. I stare at the thin plastic bottle, trying to figure out what I did to cause the cool vibe I am getting from him now. He presses the bottle into my hand and I wrap my fingers around it.

“Thank you,” I
say quietly. Dylan nods and leaves the room again. Finally starting to think rationally, I begin to consider his proposition. The truth is that I’m not looking forward to going home. Until tonight, it was a cozy house that I had worked slowly to make my sanctuary. I can’t imagine feeling any peace there in the foreseeable future.

Dylan’s voice echoe
s through the space. I can’t hear what he is saying, but from the few words I pick up, I know he is talking to someone about me. His voice grows louder as he walks back to the living area. “Yeah, I’ll be back by Thursday night at the latest…I don’t know. I’m hoping to bump up that meeting so I can get back sooner, but it’s going to depend on when they get into town.”

He
sits down next to me, pulling my legs over his. As Dylan continues discussing his upcoming business trip, he unties my boots and slips off one and then the other. My head falls against the arm of the couch as his fingers slowly start massaging, alternating pressure, and tender caresses as he works his way from my toes down to the heel. My hand claps over my mouth when I moan in pleasure. He has obviously done this before.

“Look, Tommy’s on his way over and then I have to get Tasha to bed. Call me tomorrow and we’ll
work out the details.” He looks over at me with a heart-stopping smile. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Z, I knew I could count on you.”

The call ends and he turns
his body toward mine. “Zeke’s going to go over to your place tomorrow and take care of the locks. Leave your house keys on the kitchen counter and he’ll grab them if we’re still sleeping when he stops by in the morning.”

“
That isn’t necessary,” I protest. I already told him I would have the locks changed on Monday. Why should Zeke have to take time out of his weekend to do the work?

“I thought we had come to
an understanding,” Dylan groans. I might not know him well, but I am quickly learning he has little patience when it comes to what he wants to do. “I need to know it’s taken care of before I head out on Monday. Even if you call the office as soon as they open, that’s not early enough. I want to know the work is done and done right, so I asked Z to take care of it for me.”