A small laugh escaped her as Angel pulled back, resting her head against the shower wall. Brad dropped his head into the bend of her neck. “Angel, I love you,” he whispered, the words ragged with need and thankfulness.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, then firmed her voice. “Now fuck me.”
“God, yes.”
He grabbed the back of one knee and lifted, giving him complete access. His shaft lined up like it had a homing device. He nudged forward, met resistance, then drew back. Again. And again. Nice and easy, even if it killed him—which, judging by the way his heart was racing, it just might.
Angel wasn’t so easy; she dug her nails into his hips and pulled, forcing his shaft straight through her opening and in to the hilt.
Shit. Now he knew he was gonna die. The pleasure of her, so tight and so damn wet around his dick, stopped his heart, his breath.
“Angel?” He managed to choke out the word, though he wasn’t sure if he was asking for her forgiveness or for permission to keep going.
Her grip on his hips tightened even more as she did that grinding thing she’d done before. His eyes rolled back in his head.
Angel moaned. “Good—so good. More.”
Her plea cut the leash on his restraint. Need shot through his veins like lightning, charged by her breath and the sting of her nails in his skin and the look of sheer ecstasy on her face as he pulled back and thrust forward. His body demanded nothing less than every last bit of him inside every inch of her. When his pelvic bone hit hers and he ground that last little bit into her, she screamed his name.
“Again,” he growled.
He took her ass in his hands and lifted. Angel practically crawled up his body, her nails digging into his shoulder blades for traction until she got her legs wrapped around his hips. The move almost separated them, but Angel dropped back down and they both moaned at the pleasure as his shaft surged balls-deep inside. Brad repeated the maneuver, lifting and lowering, letting her drop to grind clit to pelvis, over and over and over as they both raced toward the finish line. Angel beat him there, finding her release moments later. Her body fisted him like a vise, and every ounce of desperate need mounded beneath his skin detonated harder than a nuclear bomb.
It was long minutes later when the water ran cold and they finally found the strength to draw apart. Brad turned off the shower, stepped out, and grabbed a towel to dry Angel. Only when she was warm and wrapped did he swipe hastily at his own skin. Tossing the towel on the floor, he took Angel’s hand to lead her into his bedroom. His heavy terrycloth robe swamped her, but it was warm. He wanted her warm and wrapped in the scent of him. Hell, if he could find a way to brand her with his name, he’d probably be doing it right this minute. Instead he took her face in his hands.
“Angel.”
All his longing and worry and pleasure and pain saturated the word. She was his everything. God, he loved her. She was the foundation of his life, and now he would be hers.
“We need to—”
Angel laid a finger against his lips, stopping him. “I know, okay? I know there’s a lot we still need to work out. But for tonight, I’m fine. I’m with you. I want you to take me to bed and make me yours all over again. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”
Hell if his erection didn’t perk up at her words. He stared into her eyes for a minute more anyway, making sure, determined to do what was best for her and not his dick. What he saw reassured him, though, so he led her to the king-size bed he’d dreamed of sharing with her since he bought it and climbed in, tucking her securely in the curve of his body before he began to make love to her all over again.
Chapter Six
She woke to the warmth of heavy blankets and naked skin. Smiling in the dark, she ran her hand along the hills and valleys of Brad’s chest. She’d dreamed of this, of waking by his side, sleeping in the same bed, but she’d never truly thought her dreams would come true. In fact, she wondered if this was just a dream, but the gentle rise and fall of his chest under her cheek, the scrape of coarse male hair against her legs as he shifted convinced her otherwise. Nope, he was all real—and all hers.
Brad shifted again, this time onto his side. His arms came around and pulled her even closer as he aligned their bodies, chest to chest, groin to groin. His groan was rough with sleep. “Why are you awake, beautiful?”
“I don’t know.” One of his feet tucked behind her knee to draw her leg forward between his. The rough hair scratched at her thigh, the wrinkled skin of his sac resting softly against her as he locked her leg in place. A growing firmness nudged her lower abdomen.
The distraction warmed her even more. Lifting a hand out from under the covers, she shivered at the icy contrast of the room’s temperature. Come to think of it, the soft whoosh of the central heat was missing. She didn’t hear any noise, in fact.
“I think the electricity is off.”
Brad nuzzled into the crook of her neck to claim what seemed to be his favorite spot. “That’s not surprising,” he said, voice rumbling against her skin. “There’s probably lots of branches down with the snow and ice.”
“Mmm.” Rubbing her lips along his collarbone sent tingles from her mouth to her now throbbing clit. But as much as she’d like to lose herself in the pleasure gently stirring within her, she had needs that proved a bit more pressing.
Brad actually moaned when she pulled away.
“I know,” she said with a little laugh. Using the scant light from the slits in the curtains to guide her, she nipped his bottom lip. He tasted of man and musk and sleep, a flavor she would hurry back to. “I have to pee.”
The flash of his white, even teeth was visible despite the dark room. “Better hurry then. Wouldn’t want that to interrupt us later.”
Angel shared his grin as she hopped from the bed. The floor on her bare feet was cold, cold, cold. She loved snow, always had, but she prayed she would never, ever again be as cold as last night. Ignoring her nakedness and the jiggling her body was probably doing, she jogged toward Brad’s bathroom. The impact jolted her bladder and jarred through muscles protesting all she’d put them through in the last few hours. She made it to the bathroom, though, leaving the door cracked so she wasn’t completely blind, took care of business, and shuffled to the sink to wash her hands. The faucet released a spray of frigid water. Her mouth went dry with thirst as she rinsed her hands, a reminder that the freezing temperatures she’d subjected her body to had probably dehydrated it.
After slipping back into the room, she crossed to the window next to Brad’s bed. The parting curtains revealed a dazzling white display. Reflected light off the moon was mirrored by the snow covering every surface, lighting the street like ten streetlamps never could. Angel parted the curtains even more, allowing the light to spill into the room and down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”
She headed for his door. Brad lifted on his elbow to eye her. “What do you need? I’ll get it.”
Her steps slowed until she found herself hesitating just inside the room. She tried to ignore the dark length of the hall before her, the sudden speeding of her heartbeat, the agonizing dryness of her mouth. But as she stared down the hall, the same determination that’d gotten her out of her apartment this afternoon rose now with equal strength. “No.” Turning back to Brad, already halfway out of the bed, she held up a hand to stay him. “I love you. You have been my strength through all of this…but I have to find my own. I won’t do anything foolish. I just want some water.”
He glanced at the darkened doorway, then back at her. She could see the knowledge of her fear of the dark, the need to do this for her, wrestling with the understanding in his eyes. Brad wanted her whole again too, though, and when he nodded despite his hands fisting in the covers at each side of his hips, she knew her smile was as brilliant as his had been when she left the bed. “I’ll be right back,” she repeated and stepped toward the hall. At the last moment she snatched up one of Brad’s T-shirts where it lay discarded on the floor and pulled it on like armor against her internal fight.
The first few feet of the hallway were well lit with the moonlight spilling from the window, but the interior of the apartment darkened swiftly. She’d avoided the dark since her attack, which wouldn’t surprise anyone, but with each step away from the bedroom, something deep down inside, something small and hurt and afraid, gradually grew stronger, more courageous. She made it all the way to the hall closet, where she retrieved a flashlight to guide her the rest of the way to the fridge. Her sigh of relief was twofold: one, because the light was a welcome addition to her trek, and two, because she’d pushed herself down the freakin’ black hallway and made it. If her steps turned into a little bit of a Snoopy dance as she continued on, well, there was no one here to laugh, was there?
The kitchen was still, no hum of the refrigerator or tick of the clock, just the crackle of her feet pressing against the cold linoleum with every step. No light flashed when she opened the fridge to retrieve a water bottle. Brad kept them stocked, knowing she preferred water cold and not from the tap. She didn’t even wait to walk back to the bedroom, just cracked the cap right there and took her first sip, the cold fluid flooding her cells with desperately needed moisture.
The bottle was half-empty by the time she stopped. Sixteen ounces would never be enough, so she grabbed a second bottle, juggling it and the first one, its cap, and the flashlight as she headed back to the bedroom. She was no more than a few eager steps from the hallway when a rough hand covered her mouth, jerking her back with bruising force against a hard male body.
“Not a sound.”
The words hit her ear at the same time the scent of alcohol, vomit, and unwashed skin hit her nose. She knew that combination of smells. Very well. Knew that slimy voice. The knowledge that the man who’d almost raped her in the alley outside Thrice was here, now, in their apartment, was almost too much to believe.
The man towed her across the room, away from the hallway and safety. The move forced her to stumble, loosened her grip, and the open water bottle hit the floor with a loud
plonk
. Icy water splashed across her bare feet and legs. Angel squealed into the man’s punishing grip. Her feet danced instinctively away from the shocking cold, forcing him to scramble to keep his hold on her body. A vicious curse sizzled against her neck before the arm across her belly tightened to agonizing intensity. Angel lifted on tiptoe to ease the pressure on her ribs, her lungs, the inability to draw breath, and the man took advantage, pulling her all the way to the living room windows in one rough haul.
He set her on the ground, his grip easing slightly. Angel jerked away. When his hand slipped from her mouth, she gulped in a greedy breath of air. Another scream welled in her chest. Before it could escape, his hand slapped back, stinging her mouth, grinding her lips against her teeth. The pain in her jaw brought tears to her eyes.
“Don’t even think about screaming.” The warning was hissed in her ear. A hard shake rattled her brain. “I can kill you and your lover fast, or kill you slow and make him watch. You choose. Be quiet and make this quick”—the arm around her abdomen dropped away, and the distinctive
click
of a cocking gun registered—“or yell again and make him suffer the rest of his sorry life. Either way, I’ll get what I want.”
Fear clamped her eyelids shut. Weakness whispered through her body. The thought of her attacker coming after her had terrified her for weeks; she’d never once considered that he’d hurt Brad in the process. Fear pounded in her veins now, not for her but for the man she loved with everything inside her. The man she would die for. No way in hell would she risk his life to prolong her own.
“Angel?”
Oh God
. Instinctively she shook her head, denying Brad an answer she couldn’t give him.
Please, please, please, stay away. Please
. She vaguely registered the opening of the curtains behind her, the flood of light washing across the living room just as it had in the bedroom, but with all her being focused on willing Brad away from them, she didn’t understand the significance until Brad walked into the room and the light hit him, shining starkly across his bare chest and the loose gray sweatpants he now wore. He might as well have a target on his chest.
The man behind her knew it too, because his triumphant laugh filled her ears as she stared into Brad’s confused eyes.
“WHAT THE HELL?” The spill of light from the window caught the glint of Angel’s hair but not much else—her shape was overshadowed by a bigger form. A form that shouldn’t be here, one that, though his features were obscured, didn’t bother to hide the clear outline of a gun nestled up to Angel’s temple. The weapon’s presence told him this guy, whoever he was, meant business. His heart pounded out a rhythm of
don’t shoot; don’t shoot; don’t shoot
even as he looked around for something, anything to use against the intruder. All he had, though, was the small flashlight in his hand, the one he kept in the drawer of his nightstand and hadn’t even remembered until he thought he heard Angel trip.
One step forward. Another. His foot landed in a wet puddle. He dared to look down, afraid he’d see blood, but a half-empty water bottle seemed to be the culprit. The man had surprised her, obviously. Brad ignored the mess, zeroing in on the woman he loved and the man he would kill with his bare hands if he had to.
“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in our home?”
The low, gravelly tone intimidated every smart drunk he’d served over the years, but not this man. He laughed, the sound high and uncontrolled. The gun he held wavered, as did Brad’s breath.
“Who are you?” Brad demanded again. Anything to get the guy to be still, to focus on a target that wasn’t Angel.
“You mean you don’t know? Come on, Brad; I’m crushed.”
He knew that voice, slurred as it was. It had been even worse earlier tonight. He couldn’t believe it, but he knew that voice, and as it unlocked the key to so many questions he’d had over the past few weeks, his stomach twisted into a knot that threatened to bring him to his knees.