His Angel: The Wounded Souls Series

by Leah Sharelle

  “Baby, it’s happening. Oh, sweet mercy, Creed.” I curled my toes and dug them into the mattress as pulses spread through me. I ground my pelvis up, my inner wanton sex goddess in full flight. My hands were in his hair, holding him in place.

  “Fuck, Memphis, you taste like the sweetest honey. Come, Angel, come on my tongue.”

  That was all it took, a few dirty words, and I was done for. Pleasure the likes I had never felt before took over, and I came hard, my pussy throbbing, pulse after pulse, as my orgasm ripped through me. Over and over, Creed lapped up my cream, and it was too much. I tried to pull away from his devouring tongue, but he pulled me down further over his mouth.

  “Creed, it’s too much. I can’t.”

  What the hell am I saying! This was the greatest thing I had ever experienced, and Creed and I had been experiencing a lot in bed.

  “Fuck me, Memphis.” Creed groaned. Suddenly, he was on top of me.

  My hands reached for his back, and I found him free from clothing. When did he get undressed?

  I was about to ask him when his tongue licked at the seam of my lips, and the musky smell of my arousal filled my nostrils.

  “Taste yourself, Angel.” Creed panted against my mouth, and without another thought, I swept my tongue across his top lip, tasting what he did, and then I did the same thing to his bottom lip. His tongue touched mine, and I tasted that, too.

  Our groans mingled as our tongues clashed, and our lips collided in a passionate kiss.

  “Ready for more, Angel?” Creed’s deep voice vibrated against my mouth.

  “Always,” I answered. My hands slid around his neck, the stubble on his cheeks rough against my palms. He kept his stubble to hide his scar, but there was no need to hide it because that scar was a tribute to his bravery. I was proud of the soldier, the biker, the man Creed was.

  “Always. I like the sound of that, Memphis.”

  If I could see my face right then, I knew it would have the brightest smile on it.

  “Me too, Creed,” I whispered happily. “I think I’m ready for another one now.”

  I shimmied my lower body so it was in line with his thick shaft. He was hard and long and… really hard. I squeezed my inner muscles, and yep, I was definitely ready for another one.

  “Yes, ma’am. Anything for the love of my life.”

  My heart soared as tears welled in my eyes. I was the love of the sexiest man on the planet. Yay me!

  All conversation stopped as Creed pushed slowly into to me.

  ———

  “Can you reach over to the bedside table?”

  My arms were trapped under Creed’s body, not that I was complaining mind you, but I had a surprise for my husband—well, another surprise. We were basking in the afterglow of amazing lovemaking, and neither one of us wanted to move.

  “Hmmm,” Creed answered lazily.

  “Creed, on the bedside table,” I prompted.

  I was anxious for him to see what I had been working on for the last few weeks. Mia and Charlotte had helped with the artwork for the cover. It was difficult getting a photograph of Creed and me together without him seeing, but Mia had come through for me. She said it was perfect and that he would love it, and I hoped she was right. I asked her not to tell me anything about the photo because I wanted Creed to do that part. My editor had arranged for the proof copy to be delivered here at the compound, and it arrived the day before Rogue killed … before that horrible day.

  “Yes, Memphis. I can reach the table. What am I getting?” His body lifted off mine briefly, and instantly, I missed his heat.

  “There is a—” The rest of my sentence was cut off by a gasp from Creed.

  “Memphis, oh, my God, that’s us,” Creed whispered. He moved me around so we were sitting up against the headboard, and one arm wrapped around my shoulder, holding me tight to his side.

  “Tell me,” I demanded in a low voice as I trailed my fingers over the deep ridges of his washboard abs.

  “It’s a picture of us. We are outside near Stella’s garden and are facing each other with my hands on either side of your neck.” His voice was deep and thick with emotion as he described the cover of my book to me.

  “You’re smiling at me—fuck, Memphis, you look so beautiful. The sun is setting behind us, and your hair is shining like golden honey.”

  I smiled at the vision. I remembered that day. As Creed and I took a walk around the compound, we talked and talked about the baby and our fears of becoming parents. He told me he loved me so many times during that walk it was a wonder I didn’t float around instead of walk.

  “Are you smiling in the picture, baby?” I pressed a soft kiss to his pec and waited for his answer. I didn’t need to ask because I already knew he was.

  “Yeah, Angel, I am,” Creed said, his voice full of emotion. “Your fingers are touching my lips gently doing that thing you do. I remember that day, and here it is for me to see forever.”

  I smiled at that word. Forever. It was fast becoming our favourite.

  “What is the title of the book, baby?” I asked in a hushed voice.

  I was suddenly flipped. Creed was underneath me, my legs on either side of his torso and his hard dick between my folds. Creed placed his hands on my neck and brought me down until his lips rested against mine.

  “His Angel by Memphis Stephens,” he said with awe.

  All my other novels were written under my pen name, but this was different. It belonged to Creed and me.

  “Yes, I am.” I breathed out and then kissed the man of my dreams with all the passion the moment deserved. Minutes went by as we drank from one another, then I slipped my hand between our bodies and positioned his dick right where I wanted him, and slowly, I sank down, taking him deep inside me.

  “Forever,” Creed whispered against my swollen lips, and again, all talk stopped.

  Everything I had prayed for since being a small girl was finally all mine—a baby and the love of a man who had suffered loss, battled darkness, and who’d had the strength to come out the other side, to live and smile.

  For me.

  Bonus Scenes

  Deck & His Sweetness

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe as I watched Charlotte in silence.

  I couldn’t take my eyes from her as she performed a dizzying display of spins across the wooden floor. Watching my wife dance was one of my favourite pastimes. She had a mesmerising way about her every time she took to a dance floor, and I could spend hours staring at her.

  Today, however, I had another reason for being at the dance school. Charlotte had snuck out of the compound two hours ago. I had no idea she’d left, and now she was going to tell me why.

  Two months ago, our son came into our lives in a blaze of glory, typical Johnston fashion if I did say so myself. My boy was a brute, born after twenty-seven hours of labour, weighing in at just over nine pounds. Charlie, refusing any kind of drugs or a caesarean section, pushed our son into the world with such strength. The whole labour I had been a fucking nervous wreck, flashbacks to Shiloh’s birth gripping me with fear every time Charlie had a contraction. Even after he was born and the doctor handed my son to me, I never let my eyes leave my wife. So scared that what happened to Zoe was going to happen to Charlotte that I even forgot to look down at the miniature version of myself in my arms. All that mattered to me at the time was my sweetness. She was the love I never thought I would have, the light to my dark, the fucking air I breathed. Which was why, when I found out she had left the kids with Ford, I got on my bike and hightailed it to the dance school. I wanted my wife back and not just at the compound. I wanted Charlie, the woman who used to crave my touch, the woman who couldn’t go more than an hour without kissing me. I wanted the woman who was desperate for me to be balls deep in her because that woman was gone.

  Ever since we brought Sebastian home from the hospital, Charlie was distant—no, that wasn’t quite true. She was the perfect mother to Shiloh and Bastian. In
fact, she was a fucking dynamo at the job. Our daughter was flourishing after Charlie helped her through her grief of losing Darth months ago. She made up a game for Shiloh, which she called ‘What we loved about Darth.’ Once a day, Shiloh would come up with something that she remembered about the big man, and then Charlie would ask Shiloh questions about that memory. She then helped Shiloh write down the memory and put it in the bright pink jar beside her bed. That idea was the best thing to help Shiloh overcome the horror she saw that day.

  If only her swearing was that easy to remedy.

  Yep, my wife was amazing with the kids. It was me she was keeping her distance from. Three days ago, we hit the six-week mark, and I expected to burn up the sheets that night. Instead, Charlie spent the night sitting in the rocker with Bastian in her arms, claiming he had a fever, but I knew better. She was putting off making love with me, and the thought that my wife didn’t want me anymore made my heart ache. Since the baby, Charlie hadn’t initiated any kind of intimacy—hell, she didn’t even take off her clothes in front of me. Whenever she used the bathroom, she locked the door behind her, she got dressed in our walk-in robe, and, if that wasn’t heartbreaking enough, she avoided my touch all the time. In the kitchen, if I pressed my front to her back, she made some kind of excuse and slipped away from me. Just yesterday, when the compound was quiet and our kids asleep, I put some music on, dimmed the lights, then held out my hand and asked her to dance with me, but she shook her head and mumbled something about folding laundry. What the fuck! Bloody laundry was more important to her than me? I was losing her, and that was not an option. My sweetness was going to talk to me and tell me what was going on in that pretty head of hers. And she wasn’t going to leave me—that was for goddamned sure. Enough fucking said!

  I let out a low growl as the shit going on in my head pissed me off. The noise startled Charlie, and she stopped dancing.

  “Deck, salt and pickles, you frightened me.” She gasped, pressing her hand against her chest.

  I was annoyed at my carelessness. She was handling the memories of what Rogue did in the next room, but on occasion, she still got a little jumpy.

  I pushed away from the door and stalked to my woman with one purpose in mind.

  “Deck, what are you doing here? Are the kids okay? Who is watching them?” Charlie questioned me, her eyes following my progress.

  With each step that took me closer to her, she stepped one back. I smiled my cockiest smile at her retreat.

  That’s okay, Sweetness. I will follow you wherever you go.

  “They are with Ford, and they’re fine.” I answered two of her questions. The other one I would answer once she did the same for mine.

  “Have you stopped loving me, Charlie?” I ripped off the bandage with one question.

  Charlie instantly paled and stumbled, but I quickly rushed forward and grabbed her, pulling her into my arms. Her long, slender arms wrapped around me tightly, and her sexy dancer’s body trembled in my embrace.

  I took in a hit of her sweet scent. There was nothing that calmed me more than the fragrance that was all Charlie.

  Reluctantly, I pulled back. I moved my arms from her waist and angled my head so I could see the beautiful green eyes that always held my truth.

  “Have you stopped loving me, Sweetness?” I asked again, the question tasting bitter on my tongue.

  Charlie’s eyes widened as her hands fisted my shirt at my back.

  “Deck, no! How could you think that? I could never stop, honey, you are my world. I love you, Deck,” she cried frantically.

  My heart skipped a beat at her admission. Thank the fucking Lord. There was still something she wasn’t saying, though. Charlie had a tell, and she was chewing on her bottom lip so much it practically disappeared behind her teeth. Ignoring the desperate need to bite that lip myself, I continued on.

  “What else can I think? You don’t want to touch me. Other than posing for photos since our son was born, just now is the first time you have held me. What is going on with us, Charlie? I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me,” I said softly.

  “Oh, Deck, I am so sorry. I have been so lost in my head that I didn’t think you were hurting,” Charlie whispered, pressing her soft hand against my cheek.

  Greedily, I kissed it, savouring the warmth and jubilation that my wife was touching me again.

  “Lost how? I know you are struggling with something. Is it the kids, are you taking on too much with the dance school and looking after the babies? Because, Sweetness, I can take some of that off your shoulders. I try all the time, but you push me aside, and do it yourself. This is our family, Charlie. I don’t want to be on the outside looking in. I am here to help, to take some of the load, but I also need some of that attention, too. I feel like I have done something wrong and that I am in the way.” I laid it all out for her. I had been a hands-on dad with Shiloh. There was no choice with me being her only parent for three years, and having our son was no different.

  “Deck, no. Oh, God, I am so stupid.” Charlie sobbed brokenly, and tears streamed down her face, gutting me. Being a soldier, I could face just about anything and have, but my wife’s tears brought me to my knees.

  “You aren’t stupid, Sweetness. Never say that.” I growled at her. Charlie had grown into herself since I first met her. She used to be timid and unsure of herself, her family making her that way, but since I brought her into my family and made it hers, she’d flourished. Her place in the flock, this new school she and Rainn started, and the club had all helped her be a stronger, more confident woman.

  “But I am, Deck. I have been so worried you wouldn’t want me anymore I unintentionally made you feel at fault.”

  What the fuck? Not want her! I nearly laughed at the thought. Fucking hell, I practically walked around all day, every day with a semi hard-on. Not wanting Charlie was like the stars not shining in the night sky—it just would never happen.

  “You better explain that ridiculous statement, Charlie, before I put you over my knee and spank your sweet arse.” I watched as desire pooled in her eyes, and I could feel her legs twitch against mine. Instantly, my cock got hard, or should I say harder since I was already halfway there just from watching her dance.

  “Deck, please, can we just forget—”

  I cut off her plea with a hard kiss to her lips. Fuck, it would be so easy to slip my tongue in and continue this talk later. Charlie’s moan vibrated against my mouth. I knew my woman better than she knew herself, and she wanted me. Despite the exhilarating feeling, I kept my tongue behind my lips. Talk first, then pleasure, and what pleasure it was going to be.

  I tore my mouth away. If I didn’t stop, then all my good intentions were going to go right out the window.

  “Talk.”

  “Deck, my body has changed. Carrying Bastian was hard enough on it, but the birth was something else. Things aren’t, well, you know… as they should be. My breasts are bigger and heavier, there are so many red marks on my stomach Creed could use it as a road map, and my… special place… he was a big baby, Deck. How can it be as tight as it used to be? I do my pelvic floor exercises, but it isn’t going to be the same for you, Deck,” Charlie rambled. She refused to look me in the eye, probably because she knew what she was saying was fucking dumb as shit.

  I shook my head once, not quite believing what she was saying. Surely, this was not the reason. She was worried about a few stretch marks? Her tits were a work of art, filled with milk that nourished my child, and what the hell was that about her, what did she call it, her special place? My God, even after all the time she spent around the guys at the compound, around Shiloh, she still refused to use crude words.

  “Sweetness, you could birth ten kids, and I would still want in there. So you think that’s all I love about you, your body? Fuck, I must be a bad husband if you do.”

  “Don’t you ever say that again, Deck Johnston! You are the best husband a woman could ask for, and I am the lucky one here. You’re a great father
to our kids, and I love you more every day. Just waking up next to you makes me so hap—” Charlie stopped and looked at me, her eyes narrowing.

  I couldn’t help the smirk that played on my lips—got her hook, line, and sinker.

  “Very sneaky, mister. I see what you are doing. Okay, honey, I get it.”

  “You better, woman, because the last six weeks of not having you in my arms at night or watching that sweet body all naked and sexy as fuck while you shower ain’t happening again, hear me?” I said with a deep growl.

  “I promise, and I promise to talk to you about any more silly concerns I might dream up,” Charlie said as she rubbed her belly against my hard cock.

  When I came in before, I made sure to lock the main door, not because I was worried about security because that shit was well and truly over for the club now. No, it was because I knew I was going to end up making love to my wife today.

  “I love you so fucking much, Charlie, always believe in that,” I whispered as my hands trailed down the tight leotard she wore whenever she danced. I had to admit, though, her breasts did look fucking huge in the tight material.

  More for me to suck on, I thought wickedly.

  “I will, honey. Now, will you do that thing with your mouth and tongue, you know, when you growl into my… special place?”

  “Absolutely, Sweetness, enough said.” I took my woman down to the floor, and for some time, nothing else was said. My world was righted again—thank fuck.

  Booth & His Honey

  “That’s it, Honey, in and out, deep breaths,” I encouraged my wife quietly as another contraction hit her. For the last eight hours, we had gone through the same routine. Stella’s waters broke, and then all hell broke loose. I was probably behind most of that hell, but admitting it aloud, that wasn’t happening.

  “Booth, baby, I am so tired. Please, I just want to go home. Can’t I go home and be in our bed,” Stella pleaded with me as sweat poured from her forehead. Fuck if she wasn’t a shade paler than normal. Her cries tugged at my heart.