“She defended Jess, and now she’s defending you—ain’t that cute? I like her.” Devil flicked Angel’s nose.
“Pay no pardon to Devil. I’m Jacinta. Devil loves to be the coquette.” Jacinta tossed her dark waves back over one shoulder and shifted to stand next to Devil.
Angel’s brows crooked. “Coquette?”
“I’m Demon. English isn’t Jacinta’s first language, and she delights in bastardizing the language. What my wife means is that Devil loves to tease.” Demon, twice the height of his petite wife, bear-hugged Jacinta from behind.
“Is not a coquette a tease? Truly, the English makes less and less sense to me.” Jacinta threw her hands in the air. “You are from Trinidad, no Angel? Perhaps you speak Spanish?”
“
Speak
the language? Not really, I have no grammar, but I can get the gist of a conversation if you speak slowly.” Angel’s expression had morphed from curious to puzzled to befuddled.
Satan knew it was time to play quarterback. “I’m guessing this isn’t a short visit. Shall we retire to the library?”
Satan linked his hand with Angel’s and finger-tipped her chin. “Do you want to go back upstairs?”
“No. I’m good. It’s nice to finally meet everyone.” Angel didn’t appear to be in pain or uncomfortable.
“Since when don’t we count as part of everyone?” The booming declaration came from the kitchen’s doorway.
Satan glimpsed Nikar and Jinn, followed by Volac strolling toward him and Angel.
Nikar halted in front of Angel, and he studied her from bare toes to the top of her damp curls. “You’ve got your color back. That’s good. Here’s the rest of the pain pills the doc prescribed. I’m guessing, since you’re both up and around, that last night’s morphine shots haven’t worn off.”
“This is Nikar, Angel. Next to him is Volac, and beside him is Jinn. They’re our rescue team.”
Angel’s grip on Satan’s hand tightened. She jutted her jaw and glanced at each man in turn. “I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did.”
Nikar went red. Volac ducked his head. Jinn grunted.
Angel tiptoed and kissed Nikar’s cheek. His color deepened.
Then Angel kissed first Volac and then Jinn.
“Hey, I organized the MEDEVAC. Don’t I get a kiss too?” Lucifer, standing in the doorway, jammed his hands on his hipbones. A tall slender woman with dark eyes and waist-length ebony hair rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m Lucifer and this is my wife, Nalini.”
Lucifer draped an arm around his wife’s shoulder.
“You didn’t organize the MEDEVAC, Rutger did,” Volac declared.
“But who got the MEDEVAC cleared stateside? Me, that’s who.” Lucifer jabbed a finger to his chest.
“Well, if that’s how we’re looking at it. Then I get double kisses because I’m the one who stole the boat,” Jinn argued.
The argument went viral on the heated journey to the library. Satan sat next to Angel in the chair and listened to his team and their wives as they subtly interrogated Angel and surreptitiously wormed their way into Angel and his future lives.
A couple of hours elapsed during which each wife explained how their romance unfolded. Angel listened with a rapt expression, and as she grew more comfortable, interrupted Jacinta’s vivid recounting of their brief capture by Yanomami hunters to ask a question about the deadly curare poison.
Destiny decided to cook lunch for everyone. The women, including Angel, left the men alone and departed en masse for the kitchen.
Satan waited until he could no longer hear the females chattering in the hallway. “What’s the real reason you’re all here?”
Jinn, Volac, Sinner, Demon and Devil all looked to Nikar who grimaced, but answered, “Yaman Moses has vanished.”
Two days after their return to the states, Satan asked Angel if she was up to being “debriefed.” He explained that the longer they waited the more her memories would fade.
She felt too raw to tell him what had happened and asked who would do the debriefing. He studied her for a while and then gave her her pick. By then, she knew that Rutger Harlowe had played a big part in their rescue. Though she knew Rutger would share her revelations with Satan, she asked for him. Angel knew Rutger would only be around temporarily, and if she had to tell the horrible intimate details to someone, then it’d be best if it were someone she wouldn’t see often.
Rutger surprised her with his gentleness, tact, and diplomacy. He massaged her hands when she cried, and waited patiently when she stumbled through the chronological order of the burns, beatings, and the signing of the legal documents. He reassured her that Yaman Moses wouldn’t dare file those. She longed to ask what had happened to Yaman Moses, but wasn’t ready to know.
The debriefing lasted an entire afternoon because Rutger made her take frequent breaks. During those he told her about the local excursions he’d taken while he was in Trinidad. By the time the debriefing session ended, Angel realized she quite liked the man.
Before he left, Rutger gave her his card, and wrote his cell number on the back. Angel smiled when she read his “official” position on the card—Communications Officer.
The squad’s on-retainer doctor, a retired Naval officer, came by daily to inspect Angel and Satan’s injuries. Her bruises faded and not a single burn became infected.
In a weird unspoken agreement, they fell into a routine. Both woke together, he kissed her temple or brow, and they strolled to the bathroom hand in hand. Satan wouldn’t allow her to shower alone, but never attempted to join her. They dressed, he cooked breakfast, she brewed coffee, and they ate and conversed.
Between breakfast and lunch, they retired to the library and read. She finished her reread of
As I Lay Dying
, while he slogged through Stephen King’s latest release. She expanded her sandwich repertoire from straight PBJ to include tuna and chicken salad. After munching their lunch, they played chess or backgammon, or cribbage. Dinner was always one of Destiny’s frozen creations. They watched a movie in bed after and then went to sleep.
A week passed, and the doc gave her a clean bill of health. At the end of the third week of platonic living, the doctor gave Satan permission to work out. Satan continued to treat her like spun glass and tiptoed around her.
Her natural impatience returned with a vengeance, and the temper that went with her red hair began to simmer. The first day of spring dawned with bright sunshine and temperatures in the high sixties. She brimmed with the exuberance associated with the first warm day after a month of daily rain, sleet, and snow.
“Let’s eat breakfast on the deck. It’s so warm out and we’ve been stuck inside forever.” She threw the suggestion at him after accepting her daily cup of coffee.
“No.”
She drummed her fingers on the granite counter. “No? No reason. No explanation—just no.”
“Yep.” He hit the brew button.
“Are you deliberately trying to start an argument?” She sipped her java. The brew was still too hot and burned her tongue. Her anger ratcheted.
“Nope. You’re the one who’s been doing that for the last two days. Did you know that people react to torture and imprisonment much the same way that they grieve? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.” He picked up his mug and their gazes clashed over the brim.
His statement floored her.
She hadn’t thought of that. Neither had spoken a word about her occupation, his fury, her capture, or being buried alive. She replayed the last three weeks in her head. He was right. She had been in denial. “So, I’m in the anger stage, am I? I don’t suppose there’s anyway to fast forward to acceptance?”
He stared at her for so long her nape hairs tingled. Then he burst into a guffaw-roaring-laughter fit and dragged her into a tight embrace. When his chest finally stopped heaving, he kissed her nose, and ensnared her gaze. “Only my Angel would ask such a question. I love you, you know that, right?”
Love, happiness, gratefulness, and a welling joy strangled her vocal cords. She shook her head and blinked back the moisture pooling at the corners of her eyes. “You know, I love you too.”
“I do.” He leaned his forehead on hers and his warm, coffee-scented breath fanned her mouth. “Some people skip stages. I’d lay odds that if anyone can fast-forward the five stages, it’s you, darlin’. Just don’t try to stifle your feelings, okay?”
“Okay. So, does that mean we can have breakfast on the deck after all?” She ran her thumb along the line of his prominent cheekbone.
“No, darlin’. One of the reasons we can’t go outside is because Yaman Moses vanished the day the team rescued us. And a couple of days ago, I noticed this.” He led her to the picture window and pointed to a yacht slowly cruising across the wide bay. “Yaman Moses’ yacht also went missing the day we were rescued.”
Her fingertips iced even though they were wrapped around the hot mug. Her stomach knotted. The fear and terror of her capture returned as if it had never vanished. Her knees quaked, and she sloshed the coffee onto the high table. He took the cup from her and framed her face. His palms radiated heat.
She stared at him. “I thought I was over it. Oh God, Satan. I hate feeling scared and helpless.”
“I didn’t want to tell you, but we haven’t been able to get a handle on the yacht, and I don’t want to take any risks.” He scooped her off her feet.
“Your ribs, Satan. Put me down I can stand. I
will
deal with this.” She pressed her trembling lips together.
“My ribs are healed. The doc gave us clean bills of health, remember?” He marched to the stairs.
“Three days ago. You haven’t even kissed me.” She hadn’t meant to grumble the complaint.
He flashed her his bad-boy grin.
“Do you know what that wicked smile of yours does to me?” She nibbled on his ear. “Why’d you wait so long?”
“Tell me what I do to you.” He winked.
“I’m totally wet. My pussy’s aching. My clit’s pinging like crazy. I want you to make fast and furious love to me. I want you to erase the memory of them touching me. I want you to make me feel like the lusty woman that I am with you.” Angel hadn’t realized until the words were out how desperate she was to do exactly that.
“We have a deal.” He dumped her on the bed.
She bounced a couple of times and watched him undress. He hauled his T-shirt over his head, tossed the shirt to one side, and unbuckled his belt. “Enjoying the show?”
“You bet. Haven’t seen your penis in forever.” She kneeled and inched her way close to him. “Today, I’m giving you a blow job. Whether you want it or not.”
He unzipped his pants.
She wormed her hands under the fabric and around the base of his cock.
“Angel, you have to let go for a sec.” He hooked her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
“Don’t want to.” Her lashes fluttered, she tilted her head back. “When they were burning me, I decided if I survived I was going to come to you and beg you to take me back. I decided I would do all the things with you that we didn’t have the time to.”
“Marry me.” His eyes had gone so black she couldn’t see his pupils. His absolute focus was her. She could drown in the onyx lagoons of his eyes. Her cheeks ached she grinned so wide. “First. Yes. Second, when our kids ask how you asked me to marry you, what
are
we going to tell them?”
They burst into laughter at the same time.
“Woman, you are my joy and delight.” He removed her hand, tugged off his jeans, climbed on the mattress, and tumbled her onto the bed. “Spread, darlin’.”
She wrapped her legs around his waist. “Um, there is a little fact I believe you’ve overlooked. I’m still dressed.”
“That you are. I get to do one of my favorite things. Unwrap my Angel.” He slanted his lips over hers and kissed her until her bones went limp. Dizzy with desire, she ate at him, tickling the roof of his mouth, sliding her tongue around his, and grazing the tip with her teeth.
He licked and nipped his way down her neck.
She arched to one side.
“You love this, don’t you?” His hot breath feathered her nape.
“It’s so weird. You kiss or tongue me here and right away I’m there. On the edge.” She panted the words out.
He unbuttoned her shirt, spread the fabric, and cupped her breasts.
She got worried when he didn’t move and glanced at him. Did the burns turn him off? “The doctor said the marks won’t go away completely, but they will fade.”
He must have heard the concern in her voice, for he looked right at her, and said, “I’m cussing myself for ever letting you go. I’m cussing myself for not protecting you better. I love your tits, Angel, but they’re not all of you, and I love all of you. I intend to kiss each and every mark every time we make love.”
She caressed his cheeks. “I didn’t think I could love you more, but I do. You make my heart sing.”
By the time he’d sipped each burn on her breasts, Angel thought she’d spontaneously burst into flames. He helped her shrug off her shirt, rolled her sweats down to her knees, and went back to planting hot, moist, kisses on each faint spot. He paused at the tops of her thighs and glanced up at her over her pubic hair.
He was livid, she could tell from the way his nostrils flared.
“Don’t spoil this. Kiss them better. And then come inside me. I need you.” Yaman had taken great pleasure in burning her inner thighs.
“As my Angel wants.”
His hair brushed her pussy lips with each kiss. He licked her clit and suckled the throbbing bud. The orgasm wracked through her. She bucked. He planted his palm on her belly and buried his face in her sex, shoved his tongue into her and tongue-fucked her until she peaked again and locked her thighs around his head.
He pried her legs apart, draped them on his chest, and guided his cock to her core. The force of his first thrust into her pressed Angel into the mattress. He wrapped his hands around her knees, lifted her so her butt was off the bed, and pounded into her. The angle change meant he rammed her G-spot on every drive.
One orgasm ran into another. Ecstasy had her boneless and pulsating everywhere. Her climaxes ratcheted higher and higher. His plundering cock went deeper and deeper until she swore she could feel him in her throat.