Unexpected Angel (13 page)

The adrenaline
is wearing off and all I want to do is sleep. I have a feeling we could spend all night going around in circles on this particular topic, so I concede. “Does that mean I can go home once he’s done?”

“I don’t want you to, but I can’t tie you to my bed and force you
to stay here either.” I press my thighs together at the mention of him restraining me. I doubt it will ever be something I could allow anyone to do to me without having an anxiety attack, but I have read enough to know it sounds hot as hell in theory.

The corner of his mouth turns
up and I know he felt my reaction. “Do you
want
me to tie you to my bed?” His dark eyes are smoldering, almost as if he’s picturing what I would look like, spread eagle on his bed with my arms and legs tied to the corners of his bed.

“No,” I
say firmly.

I
don’t, do I?
My breathing hitches as I think about it, but this time I’m not so sure it is panic taking over my body.

“We’ll see about
that.” His hands move up to my calf, gently kneading out the tension. I curse the denim keeping me from feeling the pads of his fingers pressing into my flesh. I want to forget about the past few hours and I can’t think of any better way than feeling his hands traveling higher on my legs, caressing my thighs before slowly making their way to my core. Tonight, I want him to give me a release powerful enough to eclipse the one I had just thinking about him this morning. I want to scream his name as I come, not worrying about who will hear me.

“Bu
t as I was saying,” he continues. “I would prefer you don’t go home. What I said earlier stands; I want you here where there’s security. On the other hand, I can’t force you to do anything against your will, so I need to give myself peace of mind in case you do go back to your place the minute I leave.”

I’m
through fighting him on this subject, at least for tonight. We can talk about it again in the morning.

(Dylan)

While Tasha
gives Tommy the information he needs to complete the police report, I retrieve her bags from my car. I want to hear what they are saying, but I know it will drive me crazy. I need to remind myself that Tommy will handle everything properly and do what he can to find out who did this.

The elevator doors open
and I meet Tommy on his way out of my condo. “Hey, what are your thoughts?” I ask now that we are alone.

Tommy glances
over his shoulder making sure no one is listening in. “My gut says it’s someone she knows. I can’t prove anything yet, but you can bet your ass I’ll be talking to her ex tomorrow. He has a key and it seems a bit odd that this happened the first night she didn’t stay at her place.”

If Tommy
finds out it was her ex and makes the mistake of telling me, the sorry fucker had better pray the cops lock his ass up, otherwise he is going to be getting an unpleasant visit. “Thanks again. Let me know what you find out?”

Tommy
shakes his head. “Not if it’s going to land your ass on my bad side. But don’t worry; we’ll be looking out for your girl.” We shake hands and I stand in the hall until the elevator doors close. I can’t blame Tommy for not promising to keep me in the loop. He’s one of the most perceptive people I know, which is just part of what makes him a damn good cop.

By the time I lock
the front door behind me, Tasha is on the couch, curled up with both hands resting under her cheek. Maybe I should throw a blanket over her and leave her to sleep, but I want her next to me. I carry her down the hall, gently placing her on the bed.

Her hand clamps
over mine as I reach for the button on her jeans. “Not having sex with you,” she mumbles.

“Never said
you were, Precious,” I whisper in her ear. Being this close to her, I can’t resist the urge to feel her skin against mine. I trail kisses from her ear to the base of her neck. “I’m going to take off these jeans so you’re more comfortable.”

She lifts
her hips, allowing me to slide the dark denim down her legs. That is my first mistake because I can smell her sweet musk as I reach around her body and I want to taste her. If I dip my fingers beneath her satin panties, I have no doubt they would slide through the arousal pooling there.

Before I
can do something that we will both regret, I practically launch myself off the bed. I’ve been walking around all day hard for her but I can’t use her to satisfy my own need.

Hiding like a teenager afraid of being caught by his mom, I lean
against the vanity in the bathroom, unzipping my jeans to free the erection that has been begging for relief since this morning. With long strokes, I close my eyes and imagine Tasha taking me into her mouth. God, I want to look down and watch my cock disappearing between those pretty, pink lips. Feel her fingers cupping my balls, the nails gently scraping across my sensitive skin.

I
think about how her body would look splayed naked across my bed as I bury myself inside her sweet pussy. I can almost hear her moaning as I plunge deep. I would come hard thinking about everything I want to do to her.

My pace increases, pre-come seeping from the tip, lubricating my hand. I know I’m getting close when my balls tighten, sending a tingle through my spine. I jerk myself hard and fast, thinking about Tasha’s heat tightening around me as we come together. I come hard, shooting stream after stream into the sink.

As I start coming down from my explosive orgasm, I realize I hadn’t been imagining her moaning. I crack the door open and see Tasha lying on my bed, her hand obscured by the red satin I had been so tempted to remove. Up and down, her fingers work their way through her folds before circling her clit. Her hips jerk off the bed and I know she is getting close.

Quietly, I
make my way to the bed, not wanting to embarrass her. I lean over her, claiming her mouth once again as I slide my own hand over hers. She feels fucking amazing. When she doesn’t back away, I reach up to remove her panties as I turn her body so her legs are straddling my chest.

“Need t
o taste you, Precious,” I warn as I pull her closer.

“No sex,” Tasha pants, even as she scoots
closer to the edge of my mattress.

“Not even if you beg,” I assure
her, knowing damn well I am going to have her begging me to give her more very soon.

“Gee, thanks.” She starts
to move her body away from mine, so I pin her thighs to the mattress.

“I think
you misread me, baby,” I groan. “You want it, the time will come when I take every inch of your body you’re willing to give me.” I take my time kissing my way from her knee to juncture between her hip and her thigh. “But it’s not going to be tonight. Tonight’s all about you. I want to make you feel good.”

(Tasha)

My head jerks
off the bed as I feel his tongue slide between the folds of my dripping wet pussy. He doesn’t focus on my clit in an attempt to make me come quickly. No, he seems to be licking everywhere except where I want to feel his tongue. Before Dylan, I never saw the fascination in oral sex. Now, I have seen the light. Not to sound greedy, but I want to feel him there forever.

He laps at my pussy as if he wants
to consume every drop of moisture I can give him. I buck as I feel him enter me, first with one finger and then another. When he slowly pushes into me with a third finger, his tongue begins flicking my swollen clit as he curls his fingers to find the tender spot inside of me. My body clenches around him as I climax, screaming his name.

“Fuck,” he groans
without pulling away from my body. “You’re so fucking tight, Precious.”

“Dylan,” I
cry out. “I need more. I need you inside me.” If I wasn’t still so turned on to the point I feel ready to explode again, my own pleading would mortify me.

I
think I am about to get what I want when I feel Dylan move away from me. He shifts me on the bed again, this time so my head is back on the pillows as he hovers over me. “I told you, Precious…” He leans down to kiss me, his lips wet and swollen. I can taste myself on him and it doesn’t disgust me like I thought it would. I pull him down so his weight presses against my chest, my mouth locked against his.

“Please,
” I beg. “I need you, now.”

Dylan rolls
over so he is lying on the bed next to me. “Sleep, my precious angel.” He pulls my body against his. It feels amazing, but I still want more. “When I take you, it’s going to be because you belong to me, not because I have you so worked up you can’t think straight.”

Is
he for real? After giving me the single best orgasm of my life, he wants me to roll over and go to sleep?

“Can I at
least take care of you?” I ask, knowing I won’t get him to change his mind about sex, no matter how much my body aches for him to screw me into next week.

“No,” he
says firmly. “Tonight was for you. Now go to sleep.”

As much as I hate
Dylan telling me what to do, I do exactly what he demands this time. And somehow, on the heels of a night that has me scared and confused, I sleep like a baby, safely wrapped in Dylan’s arms.

(Tasha)

Sunday morning, shortly after Zeke picked up my house keys, I promise
d Dylan I would stay at the condo while he is gone so he won’t worry about me. A quick Google search while he was in the shower told me he is a pretty big deal in the Madison entertainment scene and I don’t want my drama messing up his success. After everything he has done for me in such a short time, I figure it’s the least I can do for him.

That doesn’t stop me from driving to my house Monday after I
am done with work. I’m not trying to break my promise to him, but running seems to be the worst thing I can do. I’m an independent woman and I’m not going to let anyone break me down again. When I check the rearview mirror for something like the hundredth time in five miles, I decide I’m being paranoid. It’s the middle of the day and everyone is driving home from work. There’s no one watching me.

After checking both the knob lock and the dead bolt twice as soon as I
am inside, I still find myself jumping at the slightest sound; branches creaking in the wind outside my kitchen window, a loud muffler on the street, even children shrieking with delight, everything has my heart racing faster.

When it
gets so bad I double over with my fingers clenching the edge of my kitchen counter, I know it is time to get out. But how am I supposed to do that when the fear has me trapped in a small room at the back of my house?

After two rings, Holly’s phone
goes to voicemail. Not instantly, as it would if the phone was off, and not after four rings as it normally does when she doesn’t hear it ringing. That means she ignored the call. I try to push back my annoyance, reminding myself that she has a life outside of me. As I do, Dylan’s words replay in my mind. Holly and I are drifting apart. The moment I show the first sign that I will be able to make it on my own, she starts pulling away from me. My chest tightens, realizing how close I am to being completely alone.

My shaking legs refuse
to hold me upright any longer and I lower myself until I am slouched in the corner of my kitchen. I stare at my phone, praying Holly will return my call, but she never does. The sun is starting to set when I unlock my phone and scroll through the contact list. I don’t want to make the call, but I don’t know who else I can trust to help me in this situation.

“Ta
sha, are you okay?” Zeke sounds genuinely concerned as he picks up on the first ring. I hate having to call him. He is Dylan’s best friend, and in less than a week, he has now seen me in some of my weakest moments.

A quiet sob escapes
my lips as I try to maintain a thread of composure. “Are you busy?”

I remember
his initial annoyance Saturday night when he had been coerced to leave a naked woman in order to help me. I don’t want to become
that
girl, the one who everyone counts on to interrupt at the worst possible moments because of her own drama and insecurity.

“
Nope, just sitting here reading a magazine. What’s up?”

My head
falls back against the lathe and plaster wall. He is my only option right now and Dylan assured me repeatedly before he left that Zeke wouldn’t hesitate if I needed him.

“Can you come over to my house? I thought I would be fine coming home--”

A sharp knock on the door makes me jump, trying somehow to become one with the wall behind me.

“Zeke,” I
cry out, no longer caring what he thinks about me. “Someone’s out there!”

“Tasha, op
en the door,” Zeke’s voice booms. I can hear him through the phone, but his voice is also coming from the front of my house. “Tasha, I’m outside. Are you okay in there?”

When I
don’t respond, I hear the snick of the deadbolt turning seconds before the front door slams against the wall of my living room. Zeke’s heavy footsteps rush down the main hallway before doubling back. He stops short when he sees me cowered in the corner. “Tasha, what’s going on?” His voice becomes tender as he takes in my disheveled appearance and tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Zeke,” I sigh
, ashamed that he is seeing me in such a state. There is only one person who has seen me in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. If it were Nick standing in the room with me, he would have yanked me off the ground telling me to get a grip. Zeke’s eyes show the same tender concern I had seen in Dylan’s after he grabbed my wrists the day after we met. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I just…”

“Did someone hurt you? Was someone here again?” He reache
s out to me, but doesn’t touch me. I appreciate his respect for my personal space and cautiously place my hands in his. When he pulls me in for a hug, I don’t resist. He lets me cry into his shirt until I am finally able to talk.

“No, I tho
ught it would be okay,” I sob. “I shouldn’t freak out like this, it’s not even like they wrecked anything when they were here. I’m being a stupid girl.”

Zeke
leads me to the couch. Once I am sitting down and starting to breathe more evenly, he steps into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. “You’re not being stupid. It’s totally normal to be a bit apprehensive when you know someone has violated your personal space, whether they took anything or not. Now, get everything you think you’re going to need between now and Thursday when Dylan comes back. I get that this whole situation is strange for you, but he wasn’t trying to be a dick when he said he didn’t want you coming back here. Get your shit and let’s go.”

I stare
blankly at Zeke, debating whether I want to remind him that he has no right to issue commands. I decide against it since he is here to help me, yet again, with no questions asked. I cock my head, not sure I want the answer to the question I decide to ask instead. “How did you get here so fast?”

Zeke crosses
to the bay window, looking at something through the white sheer curtains. “Dylan asked me to keep tabs on you, make sure you were safe,” he admits without an ounce of remorse. “He figured you wouldn’t go to his place once he left, so I told him I’d camp out in my car and make sure nothing happened after you came home. Are you pissed?”

“
I should be,” I grumble as I flop back on the couch. I know Dylan said he was going to do what he had to in order to make sure I was safe, but this is a bit much. Asking his best friend to follow me home and then stay in his car? What kind of man does something like that?

“But you’re not, right?” While
posed as a question, I know it’s meant as a statement.

“Right.” I
sit on the couch for a few more minutes before gathering enough clothes to get me through the week. Zeke waits patiently in the living room and makes sure I am safely in my car before walking down the street to where he parked his vehicle. When we get to Dylan’s building, I enter the security code and pull into Dylan’s parking stall, noticing Zeke pull in behind me before disappearing around the corner.

The phone on my desk
rings, pulling me away from the transmission analysis that is due in four hours. It should have been completed over the weekend so I only had to double check my findings, but that plan was blown all to hell by my life imploding around me. Now, I am scrambling to complete the first draft and hoping like hell that I don’t miss anything.

“Tasha, there’s a delivery for you at the desk. Would you like me to bring it back to you when
I go on break?” Millie is a sweet woman, always offering to hand-deliver our packages. At her age, she should really be content to sit behind the desk and know how much we all appreciate the efficiency with which she keeps the entire department running.

“No, that’s okay,” I
say, standing to stretch my tense back and shoulders. “I need to get up and walk around a bit anyway. I’ll be up in a minute.” I hang up the phone and let my co-workers know I need to step away. Most departments at the health insurance company where I have worked for four years are stuffy and run according to rigid protocols. Despite being on a tight deadline to convert an entire insurance line to be in compliance with new federal mandates, we manage to work together to keep the atmosphere a bit more laid back.

As I approach
the reception desk, I see a crystal vase overflowing with pink and lavender roses perched on the edge of the high counter. “Looks like someone’s going to have a great day,” I joke as I look behind the desk for my delivery.

Mil
lie’s laugh is slightly gravelly, no doubt thanks to her decades-old smoking habit. “Sweetheart, those are for you.” She pushes the vase closer, plucking the card from the center of the bouquet. “You mean to tell me you don’t know who would have sent you such an expensive arrangement?”

I snatch
the card from her fingers, curious to find out who would have done this. Dylan knows where I work, but I can’t see him sending flowers. Yes, we spent the weekend together and it was amazing, with a few exceptions, but that hardly warrants something like this. On the other hand, he is the only person I can think of who would make such a grand gesture.

I’m beginning to realize I underestimated you. Perhaps you aren’t so sweet and innocent after
all… Can’t get you out of my head.

I glance
up to see Millie eyeing me, waiting for me to tell her who I had received such a beautiful gift from. As far as everyone at work knows, I am newly single with no desire to get involved with anyone for a long time. “Secret admirer,” I say, shrugging. No way am I going to get into the complexity that surrounds my friendship with Dylan, if you can call it that.

“Honey,” Millie coos
. “You need to find out who that man is and hold onto him for dear life. A man who will send you something so exquisite without even signing his name is worth hanging onto.” I give the elderly receptionist a quick hug and carry the arrangement back to my desk.

If concentrating on work was difficult before, it is futile with the pink and purple blooms crowding my already cluttered desk. Every time I see them out of the corner of my eye or catch a whiff of their heavenly scent, my mind wanders to Dylan. To Sunday morning. Surely, that’s what he means with his comment about me not being as sweet and innocent as he originally thought.

I
wake early, unaccustomed to the morning sun flooding Dylan’s bedroom. I don’t need to look beneath the down comforter to know I am still naked from the waist down. My legs clench together as I remember the feel of Dylan’s strong fingers pumping in and out of my pussy, working me until I screamed his name. His firm tongue making long strokes through my fold, lapping up every drop of cream seeping from my body.