Flawed Angel (The Fall Book 1)

by J. J. Dean

  Eli leans closer, parting my legs to stand between them while I take a long pull of the hot liquid without a care that I've probably burnt a few taste buds in the process. He takes a sip of his own drink before hooking a strong arm behind me and lifts. My legs wrap around him reflexively, one arm wrapping around his neck while the hand holding my coffee tightens with an iron like grip so as not to spill my drink.

  The shock must be evident on my face, but he only laughs again, holding his mug in one hand and his other cupped under my ass to keep me in place. He carries me like it's nothing, no strain or struggle, and walks to the bookshelf, randomly picking books from the very many that lines the shelves and putting them back when they don't take his fancy. Once he's happy with his choice, he moves us back to his abandoned seat on the couch and gently settles us down, arranging me so my side is leaning into his chest and the book rests in my lap at an angle we can both read at.

  What's going on? He's a lot more touchy feely than normal, not that I'm complaining. He can be as touchy feely as he likes. But curiosity rears its head, and I'm intrigued as to what's shifted to the point where he's carrying me around like he doesn't want to part with me. I stare suspiciously at him for a moment, but he chooses to avoid the look, focusing on the cover of the book he picked out.

  "Okay, what gives? Why are you carrying me around and being cute?" I cave and ask him upfront, never once looking away from his face.

  Asher is lying on the long couch again, watching a movie it seems. I can hear the shower going, so I'm going to assume Noah is in the bathroom and Devon sits on the other end of the couch from me, seeming to be as engrossed in the movie as Ash. I feel like I've entered the Twilight zone. Things feel normal. Too normal. What's going on?

  Eli doesn't answer, so I decide to freshen up. Lifting myself from his lap with a huff, much to his annoyance, I place my mug down on the coffee table and make my way upstairs to my bathroom. I take a quick shower, relaxed under the hot stream of water. Once I'm done, I wrap a fluffy towel around myself and I brush my teeth while glaring at my new hair color in the mirror above the sink before brushing the silver locks until they’re untangled and rest on my back, stopping just past my waist. I don’t bother blow drying it, because it’ll dry unnaturally fast and will sport the loose waves I prefer. I bypass makeup and head into my room and straight to my closet where I drop the towel and shimmy on fresh underwear and matching bra. I'm halfway through pulling a pair of black leggings up my legs when there's a knock at the door.

  I call, "Just a sec," but my visitor mustn't have heard me from my closet. I hear the door open and just as I'm pulling my leggings over the round curve of my ass, Devon's face pops into view. When he spots me in my shirtless glory, no doubt catching the end of my accidental show, he comes to an abrupt halt.

  His eyes rake over my shirtless torso, his gaze lingering on my lace covered breasts a little longer than appropriate. Although, the way his pupils have dilated and the hunger in his gaze, I'd say he's passed appropriate.

  I have no qualms about being partly naked. I gave up with being shy a long, long time ago, so I stand there with my hands on my hips, waiting for him to finish his languid perusal of my body while I look on in amusement. For someone who acts like he doesn't much care for me, he's taking his sweet ass time looking over every inch of exposed skin and the tight fabric around my legs.

  "If you're done checking me out, want to tell me what you need?" My voice breaks him out of his staring match with my nipples that are visible through the wine-colored lace that covers them.

  His eyes snap up to mine, and I don't even try to hide the cheeky grin and amused look on my face. I'm blessed with a blushing Devon when he realizes he spent an indecent amount of time raking his eyes over my half-dressed form.

  "S-sorry, I thought you'd be clothed," he stutters while my amusement notches up a few pegs. I think this is the first time I've seen Devon flustered. It kind of makes me want to make it my mission to get him in a stuttering state more often and brand it my new form of entertainment.

  "Well, I am partly. I did call out to give me a sec, but clearly I didn't call out loud enough," I tell him with a shit eating grin that I really can't help.

  He clears his throat, and does so again, until he can talk without a rasp that I suspect is desire. Hm, interesting. He rubs a hand over the back of the neck while he continues to blush, so I take pity on him, turning my back to him and search for my favorite sweater.

  I hear Devon sigh in relief when he's no longer exposed to my girls, and I snicker under my breath. I find my cream-colored sweater and pull it on over my head. The neckline is large enough that the left side falls off my shoulder, displaying my tattoos in bold fashion. They stand out more underneath the light-colored fabric and I show them off proudly. The rest of the sweater is loose and baggy and stops just under my ass cheeks. If I twist quickly, the material will flare out around me. It's the comfiest thing I own.

  When I turn back around, Devon has busied himself looking through the clothes that line the one side of my closet. He looks back to me when I move closer, making him shuffle backwards until we're both outside the closet and standing far too close to one another.

  His breath catches when I move closer to shut the door behind me, my chest just a mere inch from touching his. I've no idea why he doesn't move further back. Another interesting development.

  "So, what did you need?" I ask, still sporting a smile that's showing off my straight pearly whites.

  "Right. I wanted to, uh, ask if you've felt any different since whatever it was that happened last night. If anything else has changed or if something feels... off?" he asks, slightly unsure of himself but determined to push on as though he didn't just barge in on me mid-dress.

  "Nope," I tell him with a pop at the end of the word. "I feel the exact same as I usually do. Nothing out of the ordinary. But I'll tell you as soon as it does."

  He eyes me wearily, narrowing his stunning green eyes at me as though he doesn't trust me to tell him as soon as something doesn't feel right. To appease him, I lift my hand and draw a cross over my chest, and tell him, "I swear to tell you if I begin to feel different or if anything changes with me."

  He watches the glow fade into my skin, and he seems happy enough with my promise, nodding and giving me another unusual smile. What's gotten into these guys today, seriously?

  Shaking my head with a bemused smile, I squeeze myself from between Devon and the door to my closet. I walk out of my room, the confusing Angel close to my heels. We both make our way down the stairs and split up at the bottom. He heads to the spare room while I shuffle my way towards Eli and ungracefully throw myself onto his lap like I did the day we went to Frenchie's together.

  His breath leaves him with an oomph that has me snorting, but he just hooks his arm around me and gets me to settle into him until I'm comfortable. He picks the book from beside him and plonks it in my lap expectantly.

  Before I open the book, however, I innocently tell him, "You're going to have to tell me why you're being even more touchy feely than normal and all adorable and shit or you'll find yourself with another set of blue balls. I won't be so gracious this time, and leave you hanging worse than before."

  Asher muffles his surprised laugh into the cushion underneath his head, and even with Noah's face flaming red, he snickers into his hand.

  I turn to face the Angel now glaring at me like I'm the Devil, and I give him my best smile that has him trying to stop his from forming.

  Check mate.

  Luna

  “I don't think my actions need to be questioned at this particular moment in time," he tells me, shoving his face in my neck and blowing raspberries on my bare skin.

  I snort, because one: that tickled, but I'm trying to get him to explain what's going on, so giving him the laugh that had been building in my chest is out of the question. Two; his actions very much need to be questioned. Don't get me wrong, I'm on board with this Eli who can't seem to keep h
is hands off me, but I'm curious by nature. I mean, hello? I Fell and landed my ass on Earth because of my goddamned curiosity.

  “You're not going to tell me?" I ask him sweetly, batting my eyelashes at him and pursing my lips, hoping my sad, pathetic look will make him cave and spill his secrets. It backfires. Instead, his eyes flick to my lips that I've over exaggeratedly pushed out. With my back resting against his chest, I feel the quick inhale he takes. I see his pupils dilate and a look of hunger flashes in his eyes.

  I must make a noise of some sort, because his eyes move back to mine. After a moment of staring at each other, he leans his head closer and closer until his nose brushes mine and his breath whispers over my lips with seductive secrets.

  He hesitates for only a fraction of a second, but he must be taking my normal 'fuck it' approach and before I know it, his soft lips are on mine. Gone are our surroundings, the other three Angels milling around the room, and the curiosity. It's just Eli and me for the delicious moment.

  His kiss is slow and deliberate, while his hand creeps up towards my hair to hold me in place, tilting it at an angle so he can deepen the already toe-curling kiss. His tongue glides over my lower lip, asking an unspoken question and I'm all too eager to allow him entry. My lips part and our kiss becomes hotter, causing a quickly becoming familiar ache at the apex of my thighs.

  Sadly, things don't escalate further. An obnoxious cough sounds from just behind the couch where Eli and I sit, and I know the sound all too well to know that Devon the Dick is causing a clit-o-ference. Some people are incredibly inconsiderate at times like these.

  "If playing tonsil tennis at this particular moment will gain answers to your magical hair color change, by all means, continue. But I can't imagine you're going to find answers with your tongues halfway down one another's throats. So, if you'll be so kind to knock it the fuck off so we can figure out if we should be worried or not, I'd be eternally grateful," the jackass berates, a little too snidely for my liking.

  I begrudgingly move away from Eli's intoxicating mouth to glare at the Angel that had the nerve to become my personal version of a road block for my vagina. When my aggravated gaze meets his, I'm greeted with eyes that hold three prominent emotions: desire, frustration and irritation. The first of which disappears quicker than a flash, and I don't have the mentality to question it right now. The frustration and irritation remain, however, even with the annoying smirk that's made itself onto his face. Why the Hell is he frustrated? You don't see me cockblocking him!

  "How can you tell? Maybe Eli's lips hold the answers to the mystery of the silver hair," I mock, because being a taco blocko deserves sarcasm and smartass replies.

  "You're not funny." He deadpans, not even a twitch to indicate that he's secretly harboring his amusement. I've seen him accidentally smile before, so I know it's there. He's just being an asshole for the sake of it.

  I can feel Eli's body shaking, and I look over to see him suppressing his laughter which causes me to grin like I've just won a trophy. "Ah, quite the contrary. Eli finds me hilarious, because he's turning red from bottling his laughter right now."

  Devon rolls his eyes, but he doesn't back down. Brave man. Or stupid?

  "I find it hard to believe he's laughing because you're funny. He's probably just humoring you so he can get into your pants." Oh, low blow, sir. Low. Blow. Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?

  “Green really is your color, but this particular shade of jealous doesn't suit you." I smirk, which has his eyes narrowing on me dangerously. "But regardless of the status of my pants, I happen to be a humorous Angel. And you know why, Devon dear?"

  His eyes narrow that little bit more until I can barely see the whites of his eyes, but he takes the bait. "And why would that be, Princess?"

  "Because I don't have a mighty big stick lodged up my ass," I explain, smiling sweetly at him. My grin widens triumphantly when he curses under his breath, shakes his head and moves towards the kitchen, I claim my victory with a middle finger salute while he walks away. My pettiness knows no bounds.

  "You're going to piss him off to the point that he explodes, peaches," Asher warns halfheartedly from where he's lying on the couch again. He's moving around more, but still keeps pressure off his back because I know those wounds are still tender.

  I nod and tell him, "I'm sure I will, but I'll do it on principle alone at this point."

  Eli snickers and gives me a kiss on my bare shoulder before speaking. "We really should get to the bottom of your hair change, though."

  He grins at my long, suffering sigh, but he's hustling me off his lap before I can protest.

  "Why am I being evacuated from your lap if we're trying to suss out my silver hair? Weren’t we going to read?" I ask with a small pout. I was comfy, damn it.

  Eli blesses me with another dimpled smile and I almost forget the conversation at hand. He walks towards the door where the shoe stand sits to the side, slips his black Vans on while leaning on the wall before returning to stand in front of me.

  "Because we're going on an adventure." I try not to laugh, but it's a futile attempt. His English accent is nothing short of terrible, and his Bilbo impression is even worse. I roll my eyes at him with a smile before facing Asher, who's already sitting up on the couch and sliding his boots on.

  "Should you be going on adventures with us what with your back?" I move towards him while he finishes tying his boots. He braces himself to haul his body up from the couch, but my hands shoot out almost as though they have a mind of their own. Asher looks at them curiously before he realizes I'm offering him a hand, or in this case, two.

  His hesitates for a brief second but places his large hands in my smaller ones, his fingers wrapping securely around my knuckles, and he braces himself again. Before we heave the giant out of his seat, I hum softly under my breath, sending calming emotions through the tune and feel Asher relax almost immediately. When I feel like he's prepared, I pull while he pushes from the couch. We manage to get him standing with only a small groan, but I'm calling it a win.

  As soon as he's standing, he cups my face and kisses me gently. He whispers, "Thank you, peaches," across my lips before placing his mouth on mine again. I might whimper a little when he pulls away, but I shake my head of the lust filled fog these guys manage to cause.

  "In answer to your question, I'll be fine. I'm just sore and achy, but I'll live."

  I give him my best unimpressed look, but I'm interrupted when Noah walks into the room freshly showered, hair slightly damp and fully clothed. His t-shirt fits snugly to his lean frame, and his jeans hug his thighs in the best way possible.

  "Quit drooling," is whispered in my ear, and I face Asher with another roll of my eyes.

  "Shut up," I grumble, and not so subtly wipe my mouth in case I had been drooling.

  Looking at Asher, I realize he didn't sound the least bit jealous with his teasing words, and it has me questioning how we haven't discussed what the hell is going on with him and Eli. Neither one is jealous of the other, and both have displayed affection for me, sometimes right in front of each other. I haven't pointed it out because they've never seemed to give any hostile reactions to the other kissing me or having me sitting in their lap. Curiosity killed the cat, or whatever, but I'm suddenly intrigued as to why they don't seem affected with whatever is going on with our merry band of misfits.

  "I can hear the gears turning in your head, peaches. Talk to me," he gently requests.

  I pause before deciding that blurting the first thing that comes to my mind is the best course of action. "Why aren't you jealous when Eli kisses me or vice versa?"

  He looks stunned before a beautiful, rare smile blossoms over his face. My breath catches and my heartbeat stutters like it does when Eli grins at me with those damn dimples of his.

  Leaning in as though he's going to tell me the secret to the universe, he whispers, "We like to share."

  It's my turn to look stunned when he leans back with a smirk. Because my finess
e has fucked off somewhere far, far away, I continue to blurt, "What the shit?"

  He tries to cover his smirk with a wipe of his hand over his mouth, and when he's composed enough, he tells me, "We've always shared. Comes as natural as breathing. We've never shared with anyone else, but I don't mind adding one or two more to the club."

  His eyes drift to Noah, who's pulling on a zip up sweater and gives me a cute smile when he spots me staring. I return his smile before I turn to face Asher, who's looking at me with knowing eyes.

  When I can't think of anything to say, I repeat, "Shut up," before walking towards my black Converse by the door with his deep laughter trailing after me. What the hell is he talking about? Two? If he means Devon, then he's still delusional. Poor guy.

  I shove my feet into my shoes, snatch a black scarf from my coat hook and pick up my black purse from the entry table. Turning to face Eli who's leaning on the back of the couch watching me, I ask, "So, where's this adventure?"

  With one word, he has me grinning like an idiot and raring to start our journey.

  "Frenchie's."

  ***

  We arrive at my best friend’s coffee shop in no time, despite our efforts to walk slow for Asher's sake. We decided the best way to get from point A to B was by the use of our legs. I didn't think Asher would be keen on folding himself in half to fit inside my car, so walking was the next best option.

  Devon decided to join us, so all five of us clamber through the door to Ms. Frenchie's store and out of the cold air that has me mentally kicking myself for forgoing a jacket despite Devon repeatedly suggesting I take one. I refuse to give him the satisfaction that he was right, however, and have hidden my shivers from him. If the tiny smirk he's worn for the last half of our journey was anything to go by, I didn't hide it well.

  "Francis, I've missed you and your cookies! Reign down on me with your sugary treats and wise cracks about whatever takes your fancy today," I call across the room when I spot Ms. Frenchie's head rising from behind the counter, gaining a few unpleasant looks from the customers quietly sipping their beverages or reading.