by Mia Madison
I nodded. Maybe he was right. Or at least a little bit right. Maybe it didn’t have to be the prison that I’d imagined. Maybe I could at least end up feeling comfortable there. “Is there somewhere I can change clothes?” I asked, looking around. “And where should I put my things?”
“Of course.” He nodded toward the short hallway. “Follow me.”
He led me to a room that could have easily held two of my old bedrooms with space left over on each side. I sucked in a sharp breath as I took it all in.
The room was dominated by a four-poster king-size bed that was so tall I would’ve had to take a running jump to get into, and the rest of the bedroom furniture was just as big and bold and masculine. If the living room and the front part of the condo had been sleek and sophisticated, this part was big and heavy, old world and all man.
It didn’t take much to picture Angel lying in the middle of that big-ass bed, just like a king.
“There’s just the one bedroom,” he said, interrupting my little vision of royalty. “But you can put your things in the closet, and I can promise you there’s plenty of room in that bed.”
I wasn’t expecting that. Sure, I’d thought that I’d have sex with him at some point—that was a given. But to sleep with him? In the same bed… every night?
That hadn’t been part of my plan.
I could feel my face heating up from the direction my thoughts had taken, and I busied myself with opening my suitcase and rearranging the haphazard piles of clothes inside to keep from making eye contact with him again.
“That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
His voice made me jump and I fumbled with the clothes in front of me as I half-turned to answer him. “No,” I lied. “No problem. Could I just have a couple of minutes to change clothes, please?”
“No.”
It took a couple of seconds for my brain to register that he’d answered. Even though I had technically asked—had even said please—the fact that I needed a couple of minutes of privacy wasn’t really up for debate. It certainly wasn’t a request I’d expected him to deny.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, not sure if I’d missed something. Surely he wasn’t telling me I couldn’t change clothes…
“You can do whatever you’d like,” he said, indirectly answering my unasked question. “But I’m not going anywhere. If you want to change clothes, you can do it here. Now. In front of me.”
I felt my eyes widen for a second as I realized where he was going with his explanation, and then I nodded. If that’s how he wanted to play, that was fine. I’d take my clothes off for him, if that’s what he wanted.
Hell, I’d give him the best strip-tease of his damn life.
“Fine,” I said simply, shrugging out of the skimpy cropped shirt I’d been wearing and tossing my hair back as if that was what I’d been meaning to do all along. Then, remembering to smile, I added, “That won’t be a problem.”
I could feel his eyes roaming over my body, making me feel like I was completely naked even though I was only just getting started with what was supposed to be a sexy strip-tease.
What I hadn’t expected was the way that hungry look in his eyes would make me feel, and my fingers fumbled with the buttons on my jeans as I tried to remind myself that I was in control. This was my show, and I was just letting him watch it.
Angel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes tracking every move I made. His face was expressionless, like a statue made of stone, but his eyes. I could see in his eyes all the things he wanted to do to me, to my body. And if that wasn’t enough, I could tell from the growing bulge in the front of his dark slacks.
He wanted me. He always had. There was no point in either of us trying to deny it.
With that thought in mind, I felt more confident, almost one hundred percent back in control as I finished unzipping my jeans and shimmied them down past my hips until they were pooled in a heap at my feet. Resting one hand on the oversized bed frame, I carefully stepped out of those jeans and kicked them aside.
He licked his lips and I felt a jolt go through my body, as if his lips—and his tongue—had made contact with me. “Keep going,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
I was already reaching back to unfasten my bra, though. I didn’t need any encouragement from him—not verbally, anyway. His body had already told me what he wanted.
The black lace bra—my favorite one—fell away and I resisted the sudden urge to cover myself. Stripping in front of him felt more intimate, more real than I had expected, but there was no point in being modest now, and it was too late to do anything besides just keep going.
So that’s what I did.
I did my best to ignore the heat in his eyes, to ignore the way my already-sensitive nipples tightened and stood up under his hot stare, to ignore the warmth that was already beginning to radiate from my core as I hooked my thumbs in my panties and began sliding them down.
Only when my panties finally hit the floor and I was standing completely nude in front of him did I meet his gaze again. He was looking at me like I was fucking candy, and I bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud from what that look was doing to me.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and then I did moan, wishing instead that he’d put those big, solid hands on my body, that he’d let them roam over my breasts and down my stomach the way his eyes had. That he’d take those fingers and—
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice just a hoarse whisper. “I could look at you all night if you’d let me.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak. My mouth had gone dry, and all I could do was move closer to him, to hope that he’d read my mind and take pity on me, that he’d just touch me.
He didn’t reach out, though. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets. He didn’t move a muscle, in fact, until I was just a few inches away from him, ready to press myself against him, ready for whatever he wanted to do.
“Stop,” he said, his voice still quiet but firm.
I froze, unsure of what was going to happen next. As much as I wanted him to touch me, he wanted it more. I was sure of that.
“I only said I wanted to watch,” he said. “Not touch.”
I blinked. What? Had he gone crazy? Ever since the day I’d turned eighteen, Angel had been looking at me like he was down to fuck—whenever and wherever—if I’d give him half a chance. And now, here I was naked and trembling and my pussy practically reaching for him… and he was saying no?
“I don’t understand,” I said, simply. It was the easiest version of the truth, and the most direct. “What do you want me to do?”
“It’s not about what I want,” he said, shrugging. “But I can tell that you’re not ready. Not tonight.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a step back and finally reaching up to cover myself. “How do you know that? What if I am ready?”
He didn’t answer me. Instead, he gave me a hard, long look and shook his head slightly, then turned on his heel and walked back into the living room.
I let my arms fall back to my sides as I watched him go, wondering what in the hell had just happened, wondering—again—if I was really ready for what I’d gotten myself into.
Wondering if he just might break me before I could break him.
Angel
I hadn’t known what to expect when Bella and I made our little agreement. Having her stay with me hadn’t even been a thought in my mind until she’d suggested it, and then it had felt like something I needed.
More than money. More than food. More than air.
It had been four days since I’d walked her from her father’s condo to mine, but I still had to pinch myself every time I woke up and saw her there next to me, or every time she’d walk into the room and get me instantly hard with her coy little smile.
Just thinking about her had me hard, and I reached down to idly stroke myself through my pants, wishing it was her hand instead. But it was the middle of the day, and she was at class.
I l
ooked at the clock. She’d be back soon. Maybe today would be the day I’d give in to my desires and my cravings and fuck her—or at least touch her.
“No,” I said out loud to myself, reluctantly taking my hand away from my crotch as I inhaled and slowly exhaled a deep breath.
No.
I had to stay strong. If we were going to be together, it would be because she wanted it, because she needed it.
Not because she felt like she had to do it.
And when that day finally came, I wasn’t going to be the one to ask for it.
I heard the key jiggle in the lock and I immediately stood up and reached behind me to put my hand on the gun I always kept tucked away in my waistband.
It was probably just Bella, of course, but I hadn’t stayed alive for forty-two years by taking things for granted.
From where I stood in the living room, I could see around the corner into the foyer, but the person coming in wouldn’t be able to see me right away. If the person opening the door was a stranger, it would be the only advantage I’d need.
“Angel?” Bella’s voice immediately put me at ease, and I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as I took my hand away from the gun and shoved it in my pocket before she could come around the corner. “I’m home. Are you here?”
“In here,” I called out, grinning as she came into view and the last bit of tension left my body. “How was class? Learn anything useful?”
It was the same playful, teasing question I’d been giving her for years, and she rolled her eyes at me—just the same way she’d been doing for years.
She didn’t completely rise to the bait this time, though.
“Not really,” she said with a shrug. “It was kind of boring today, actually.”
I felt my smile slip a little, but I tried to hide my disappointment that she hadn’t given me one of her usual sarcastic, snappy comebacks.
“That’s too bad,” I said. “How much longer do you have to take those classes, anyway? Shouldn’t you have some kind of degree by now?”
“Another year, if I’m lucky. I might have to take a semester off after this, though. You know… money issues.”
I grimaced. We hadn’t talked at all about the reason she was staying with me—about her father’s money troubles, but I could tell just from her expression that it was weighing heavily on her mind.
It was a shame, really.
“Maybe you can qualify for some… grants? Or loans or something?” I offered, not really knowing what I was talking about, but I did know grants were a thing, and if someone as hard-working as Bella couldn’t qualify, then what were they even good for?
“Grants max out pretty quickly,” she said. “And you have to keep a certain grade point to keep them. This… situation… hasn’t exactly been the best for studying.”
I felt a sharp pang of guilt at her words, and maybe that was her intent… but even if she was trying to get under my skin or give me a guilt trip, I knew she was right.
“Look, Bella,” I said, opening my hands in a mock surrender. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. And it’s not… ideal. But I really do want you to be comfortable here. You might think I’m an asshole, but… I want you to be okay. Take the time you need to study, to do whatever. I won’t stop you from doing that.”
“I know. And… you’re not an asshole.” The corners of her mouth twitched a little—not a smile, but maybe something close. “Well, not a complete asshole, anyway.”
I snorted, but before I could respond, she had already turned away and was walking toward the kitchen.
“What would you like for dinner tonight?” She asked, opening cabinets and closing them again as she moved around the kitchen. “Pasta? Chicken?”
“You don’t have to cook for me,” I said, moving closer and watching as she started pulling things out of the fridge. “I appreciate the thought, though.”
She stopped and looked at me, her brows furrowed. “You don’t want me to? Or you don’t need me to?”
“Both, I guess?” I didn’t know what she meant, but… I didn’t really need or want her to wait on me hand and foot.
“Why did you bring me here, if you don’t want to sleep with me and you don’t want me to take care of you?” Her tone was accusing me of doing something wrong, but I could tell she was just as confused as I had been.
“I brought you here because…” I let my voice trail off because I didn’t know exactly why I’d done it, only that it had seemed like a good thing for both of us at the time. And I was pretty sure it could still be a good thing.
But not like this.
In the back of my mind, I kept hoping that she’d want to be there, that she wouldn’t keep doing these things that she felt obligated to do. I didn’t want her to fuck me because she felt like it would help her father’s situation. I didn’t want her to cook for me because she felt like that’s what I expected.
But I couldn’t tell her those things either, because I didn’t want her to pretend to want those things.
“I had my reasons for bringing you here,” I said, finally finishing my thought. “I don’t expect you to understand them though.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but I turned around and walked away before she could speak. I didn’t want to argue, and I couldn’t explain myself any further.
So, for now, there was nothing more to say.
Kimbella
The more I thought I understood Angel, the more he would surprise me.
I’d been staying with him for almost two weeks, and even though it was still kind of weird sometimes, it was also kind of… nice?
I felt a little guilty even thinking of it that way. I wasn’t there to have a good time, after all. But Angel—once again—had really surprised me with the way he’d treated me from the very first night.
Sure, he still looked at me like he might tear my clothes off me and fuck me real good at any moment… but he never acted on it.
Not when I’d lean over and give him a clear view right down my shirt. Not when I’d slowly undress for in front of him every night, just like I’d done on that very first night we spent together.
Not even when I’d accidentally brush up against him in that big-ass bed.
And after eleven days of all of that… I was getting horny.
Horny as hell.
I didn’t think I’d ever admit that I wanted him to fuck me—not even to myself—but I did want it. I wanted it more and more every day and every night.
I’d find myself in class thinking about that big dick that he could barely keep contained in his pants. I’d watch him as he moved around the condo, steady and methodical, confident, just like he always had been, and it only made me want to feel those strong steady hands on my body.
Even now, just sitting on the bus on my way back from class, I can’t stop my hand from wandering down between my legs and pressing against my most sensitive spot for just a little bit of relief from the constant sensitivity that I feel whenever Angel is on my mind.
And it seems like he’s always on my mind.
I got off the bus at the stop by his condo, hoping that maybe he’d be out doing some business, or doing something that would give me at least a few minutes alone to take care of the heat that had been building up inside me for damn near two weeks.
But when I walked though the door and found him standing there waiting on me in his usual spot, I couldn’t even pretend to be disappointed. I might not be able to get the privacy that I desperately needed at that moment, but seeing his eyes roam over my body in that familiar way and his mouth turn up in a smile as he asked about my day?
Yeah, that was worth not being able to touch myself for at least a little while longer.
“Hey, Bella,” his voice was deep and rich, and never failed to send a tingle up my spine. “How was class?”
The same question every time, but it never got boring to me. I usually tried to give him some kind of smart-ass answer, just
to keep him on his toes, but today was different. Today, I could barely think straight.
“Class was… good,” I said. Just thinking about you and your big cock fucking me all day. “I, um,” I swallowed hard, not sure what to say. I could feel my face heating up as he quirked an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side.
“You… what?”
He took a step toward me, then another, and I felt my knees go weak. Oh my God, I was going to have to move or sit down or do something soon, before I passed out from all the blood that was rushing to my head—and the heat that was rushing to every other part of my body.
“I just, um… I just… wanted—” I had been doing a good job of keeping my eyes locked onto his, afraid of where I might look otherwise, but then I couldn’t help myself. I glanced down—just a split-second—to take in the rest of him, his solid, hard body, that ever-present thick bulge that never failed to impress me as it strained against his tailored pants. And yep, it was still there in all its glory, making me horny and dizzy and fucking wet, making me forget whatever I’d been about to say.
I looked back up at him, my cheeks burning, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way I’d been practically undressing him with my eyes. The cocky half-smile that played across his lips and the look of pure sex in his eyes told me that he’d seen it all, though.
But more importantly, that look told me I wasn’t the only one in the room who was having a hard time keeping it together. I knew he wanted to fuck me. I could feel it. And I knew I was on the right track when I took a step toward him and heard him suck in a sharp breath as I finally closed the remaining distance between us.
I turned my face up to keep eye contact. His pupils were blown, dilated with pure heat, pure lust.
He bit his lower lip, and just the sight of it made me imagine his teeth grazing my lips, my nipples, my—fuck, I couldn’t help but moan, the sound escaping my throat before I could stop myself.
