Cuts Like An Angel (27 page)

Read Cuts Like An Angel Online

Authors: Mason Sabre,Lucian Bane

The idea that he was doing this with her sister beneath would’ve felt weird, but with Josh, it felt like a declaration. He was saying he was not like the others. She was the one he wanted, and Rosie took the unspoken oath with greedy longing. It didn’t’ take long for her orgasm to take her. The hungry sounds he made right in her mouth, the sound of a man equally as desperate for what she wanted and equally as thrilled to give it.

He hugged her close to his body as she came, like he wanted to feel every bit of what he did to her. She gave herself to it, letting him have it.

He lay kissing her tenderly before murmuring, “Maybe next time I will do it so the whole world hears.”

“God no,” she said, grinning at the idea.

“Maybe she can report that to your mummy. Dr. Carter sure knows how to make love to his wife.”

“Wife?”

“Oh, right,” he paused, squinting up. “Fiancé? Mistress? Lover? Which is it?”

She bit the huge smile on her lips, knowing which she wanted. “Would be silly to say wife, right?”

Josh, stroked the tip of her nose. “Would it?”

Her heart hammered as she looked him in the eyes. “Wouldn’t it?”

“Well, for pretence sake, it would mean you got married without consulting and I’m not so sure how that would go for your inheritance.”

She pfft. “I don’t really care about money.”

“What do you care about then? Only me?” Though he wore a light smile, the intensity in his gaze said he was serious about her answer. With the soft stroke of his thumb along her face, the answer was so easy. But not easy to say.

“I guess I want her to know I’m not a failure. I mean yeah I can use the money but …” A slow burn filled her chest, and Rosie turned her face for a bigger breath. “It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t.”

Josh turned her face to him and wiped the tears that escaped. He lowered his lips to hers and gave her the softest kiss. “It does mater, sweet Rosie,” he whispered.

An unexpected sob pushed at her throat and she pulled him into a hug, letting it escape against his warm neck. 

“You know,” he whispered looking at her again. “I’ve never had a miracle but … I feel like you being here … with me …” he searched her eyes “Is my first.”

The joy of his words rushed through her and she pushed him onto the bed and kissed him, laughing and crying as she did. “You’re the stupid miracle.”

“No, you are,” he argued softly, holding her tight to his body.

“No you are,” she argued back.

“We’re a mess, aren’t we Rosie?”

She pulled up and stared at him finding his eyes serious and his joy pulling at his pretty mouth. “A good mess,” she assured.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

She smiled at the little annoying joke, but he was very serious. “Funny,” she pecked kisses on his lips. “Because I would say the same. I know you are but what am I?”

He gave her a huge smile that said if she thought it, then it must be true and real. Maybe he didn’t agree but he believed her, and that meant everything to him. “I’d say you need your head examined.”

“I’d say the same for you?”

He chuckled, seeming to love how she fought on his behalf. “Maybe we won’t examine your head. I think I am content to leave you disillusioned.”

She smiled, content with that. “I guess I can be your lover,” she said, remembering their current predicament.

“No,” he angled his head, going serious. “You’re definitely my promised. My fiancé.”

Rosie’s heart hammered with that, as she fought back tears. “Sorry, you’d swear it was all real to me. I’m not going to go psycho on you, don’t worry.”

He suddenly rolled and put her under him. “You can get as crazy as you like Mrs. Carter to be.” He stroked his thumb over her lower lip. “Just so it’s crazy for me.”

“Are you rehearsing these lines?” she asked, tears pouring again. “I’m an emotional wreck, sorry.” But by the smile he wore, he seemed to like it. “And let’s not go too far with the whole rubbing it in her face. I mean I hate everything she did to me but I don’t want to … “

He stole her words with a hungry kiss and finally murmured. “Such an angel. My angel.”

Her stomach jolted in a painful knot at the words William used with her. Oh God, William. Her poor, sweet William. What would become of him now? The weight of that suddenly weighed so heavy on her, making her heart skip ten beats. He’d said choose Josh. He was normal. And she had, hadn’t she?

“And I promise not to be
too
loud about all of it,” he said.


Too
loud?” she asked, grinning.

“Maybe just …” he got up on his knees and began bouncing on the bed, making it squeak really loud.

“Stop!” she said, pulling at his arm with wide eyes.

“God, Rosie,” he yelled suddenly, making her tackle him and fight to cover his mouth. “Yes, yes,” he hollered, banging his hand on the head board now.

“Oh my God! Stop it,” she begged, torn between morbid shame and howling laughter with his monkey dramatics.

Rosie’s phone began ringing and she shot her eyes to it on the night stand as she hurried to look. Her heart hammered in her chest. “Oh my God, it’s her!” Rosie answered. “Hello?”

“I’ll be staying at a hotel.”

“No.” she cried. “No, I’m coming down right now to get you set up.”

“I’m clearly imposing.”

“No you’re not!” Rosie eyed Josh who grabbed himself in a vulgar manner and winked. “Josh was being a monkey, he’s a huge jokester.”

Her sister sighed. “I’m tired and cranky, and I’m ready for a clean bed.”

“You’ll sleep in our room of course.”

“Uh, no thank you.”

“Oh come on, I’ll put … clean sheets on of course.” Rosie stifled laughter as Josh pretended to hump the bed, slow deep strokes and his face straining in ecstasy. The sight lit her on fire with desire.

“I’ll take the couch.”

She turned her attention to her sister when he lay like an innocent angel on the bed. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“The couch or a hotel, Rosie. Final answer.”

She shook her head. Okay Miss Jeopardy. “Well, I’ll get you set up nice and comfortable. Would you like some supper? I cooked spaghetti. Josh is good at coffee if you want some. We can catch up?” Rosie saw Josh roll his eyes. Rosie gave him a pleading look. She really did miss the part of her sister she didn’t hate. “Would love to hear how you’re doing?” she chanced.

“Whatever, sure.”

Pain pummelled Rosie’s chest at her casual tone. After all these years, she still didn’t know what she’d done so wrong to her. To her whole family.  “Okay then,” Rosie said. “Coming now.”

She hung up and stared at the screen before turning a smile to Josh. But the look on his face said he saw the truth and hurried to her. His arms went around her and she buried her face in the warm skin of his chest. She let herself bask in the now, not the then. Josh was now, and God he felt so good. So good that even the pain of her life couldn’t stay. His support and concern, his friendship and whatever else she dared to call it, was now. That’s what she’d hold on to.

Downstairs, Josh took over being the gracious English host and impossibly perfect fiancé as he showed her sister around. Rosie kept a close eye on Lacey, thrilled for the first time with her sister’s note taking. Josh couldn’t keep his hands and lips off of Rosie and she’d never felt happier. He was supposed to be pretending but she knew he wasn’t. He meant it. 

“This is the kitchen where I adore cooking for Rosie.” He looked down at Rosie. “Tell her how much you love getting breakfast in bed.”

“Oh God, he is amazing with the breakfast thing. And the bed,” she gushed with a laugh, slapping a hand over her mouth. She’d not meant to say that. “Ugh. Too much information,” her sister said with raised brows. Was that a smile lurking on her sister’s mouth? She wasn’t sure why she would smile other than she was happy about it. Or faking. How nice it would be to have her sister happy for her. To be able to have somebody to share the best thing that had ever happened to her with.

“What kind of doctor did you say you were?” she asked, sitting at the table and not hiding her scepticism.

“Philosopher,” Josh answered next to the cups he readied for coffee.

“Philosopher?”

“I know, right?” Rosie cut in. “I wasn’t even aware they had doctors for that.”

“Is that how you met Rosie? Therapy?”

“Oh, no. I’m not a therapist.” He searched the cabinets while Rosie eyed her sister’s seemingly innocent gaze. “I just teach classes on the subject. You may be thinking of a psychologist.” Josh offered a kind smile.

“I know the difference,” acid Lacey said. “I just figured she might still be having mental problems from— “

“Lacey,” Rosie shot out, anger riding her skin. “
That
. Is private.”

She gave her a fake surprised look and shrug. “I assumed you shared everything.”

“We do,” Josh offered. “But we also share when we’re ready to. There are plenty of secrets left to discover, isn’t that right?” Josh stood next to the table now and leaned to put a kiss on Rosie’s cheek.

“Exactly,” Rosie said, hoping she didn’t sound as unsure and shaken as she felt. God, she didn’t need him knowing all her dirty past. She eyed Josh who returned to finishing coffee. 

“So where did you go to school?” Lacey asked.

“Salford University,” Josh said easily as he came to the table and helped Rosie up then sat her in his lap.

“Oh. So how did you meet Rosie?”

“Would you like to tell her?” Josh asked.

“Oh no, you tell it,” Rosie said. “I love hearing you tell our story.”

“Which one? Our first encounter in the elevator or our first date in the hospital closet?”

“Classy,” Lacey snorted.

“Oh, it was very classy,” Josh assured. “I met your sister on the elevator. She appeared like she could use a pick me up. I tried several attempts at conversation to which she blew me right off. And then I challenged her to live a little, be spontaneous, take some chances. To which she got quite offended and said to me, “I can be spontaneous. And I’m pretty sure I’m living. I take chances every day. I’m on this elevator when I don’t like elevators, but I’ve taken a chance and here I am. Being risky. Talking to you.”

“Sure,” I said. “Very spontaneous indeed. Living the hell out of life. And then, there’s this span of five seconds before she … Are you sure you don’t want to tell her?” he paused and asked Rosie.

“Ohhhh no-no. You finish, Dr. Sexy pants.”

He gave a laugh that tickled her stomach because it sounded so genuine, just as genuine as his hand gently stroking her back. “She kissed me,” he went on. “She walked right over and planted her beautiful lips on mine. And kissed me. I had never been kissed by a complete stranger before but the second her lips touched mine, I realized it. She was not a stranger. This beautiful, gorgeous, sexy woman, was my angel, my soul mate.”

Rosie fought to appear like she’d heard the story a hundred times but it was hard. She’d never heard anything so sweet outside of a book. “Awwww, honey, you really thought that? You never told me that part.” Rosie turned in his lap and gave him loud, smacky, childish kisses.

“So how long have you lived here?” Lacey asked over the racket she made.

“Oh, only a couple of months,” Josh said. “That’s why it’s in such shoddy shape. I’ve got the contractor’s scheduled to start remodelling and bringing the place to its proper value. Did you know this is considered one of the most haunted homes in England?”

Rosie laughed, an idea springing on her. “I forgot about his side hobby. He loves to write. He buys old homes and fixes them up. He writes stories while he does.”

The odd look on Lacey’s face was priceless. He couldn’t have picked a better topic because her sister hated scary stuff. At least she did when they were growing up. “Interesting,” she said. “Why do they think this place is haunted?”

“Oh,” Josh began. “The story goes that a woman and her son lived in it. He was an only child and she didn’t know who the father was. She was a sophisticated call girl; I think was the title. Anyway, the mother was cruel to the boy and rumor had it she let her customers have their way with the son. When he grew up, he took revenge. Soon, the men came, but they never came out.” Josh lowered his voice. “They found eighty-six bodies right underneath these floors. The freaky thing was,” he continued. “His mother was the first to go. After, he dressed like her and resumed her job, taking callers. And one by one, he tied them up, and had his evil way with each. Then he buried them alive under the floor and did ballet to the tune of their begging cries that grew weaker and weaker, until there were no more.

“And then …” he shot out, only to pause dramatically. “He’d take the next caller.”

Rosie had to laugh for reals. “Oh my God, that’s a great story, baby,” she said. “Is this one of your horror writing projects?”

“Well, it’s the one I’m making up for this home.”

“So it’s not true?” Lacey appeared pissed that he’d lied while thoroughly glad he had.

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