Safer Together (The Safer Duet Book 2)

by Amy Rose

  A few moments later I hear footsteps outside the door and I look up. Elliot is walking toward me with two glasses of water in hand. I’m so happy that he is here. He didn’t leave at all. He is still here with me. “Here, I thought we should cool off.” He offers me one of the glasses. “I know why you stopped, Angie, and I respect you for that. I’m sorry about that, baby, that’s two nights in a row this has happened, but you unlock something in me I never knew existed and since I don’t fancy being put under a cold hose to cool off, I figured a glass of water would have to do.” He smiles up at me and raises his glass to his lips and drinks deeply. I do the same. The water is heavenly, the wet coolness slipping down my throat. After a few mouthfuls, I lower my glass.

  I look over towards this handsome man and without thinking I speak. “You unlock something in me, too, Elliot. Thank you for understanding and not pressuring me.” Elliot almost chokes on his water. I pat his back a few times,

  “Pressure you Angela? I would never pressure you. I want you so damn much that I just get carried away when we kiss, when you touch me. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t wait.” I laugh at his response.

  “Believe me, you’re not the only one who gets carried away, babe.” I sip on my water again.

  I place my almost empty glass of water down on the bedside table and stand up. “I’m going to get out of these heels and this dress and put on something comfortable. Where are my pajamas?” I walk over to where my bag is situated and kick off my shoes. Unzipping my bag, I locate my nightgown and pad into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. As I raise my hand to the zipper, I remember the lingerie I am wearing, along with the reason that I am wearing it. We may not be able to be sexually intimate with one another, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to try and look sexy for my man. I wore these for him to see.

  Before I lose my courage, I reopen the door and step out, walking with confidence and purpose, not coming to a standstill until I am standing before Elliot, “Would you mind doing me a favor? Could you please unzip me?” I lift my arm revealing the side zip.

  “Of course,” he replies, putting his empty glass down next to mine. He grasps the zipper between his thumb and forefinger and slowly pulls it downwards. I hear his breath hitch when he catches sight of the black lace of my bra. He continues to unzip me until it comes to a complete stop, just below my hip, revealing a peekaboo view of the matching underwear.

  I look up at his expression from under my eyelashes biting my bottom lip. Does he like what he is seeing? I attempt to take a step away, but Elliot doesn’t allow it, he throws his arm out and catches my forearm with his hand. He comes to stand in front of me, pulls my arm down gently to hang beside me body. He then pulls down the fabric of my dress from the shoulder of my left arm, then following suit with the right. He pulls the dress down all the way, the fabric slipping easily down my body. He ends up on bended knees before me, he looks up, emotion clouding his features, his stare boring into my face.

  “Angie, step out of your dress, you beautiful creature.” I lift my left leg out of the circle of fabric at my feet, and then my right. I step backward away from him; once I am completely free, he stands back up with my dress in his hands. He doesn’t look away from my body during this whole process.

  I suddenly feel self-conscious. I wore this for him, just in case he saw me, and now that I am brave enough, he has. I take a step backward and then another, followed by another, continuing to do so until I am back in the bathroom. Once inside the safety of the four walls around me, I close the door.

  I turn away from the door, just as I am bending down to pick up my nightgown, feeling the slippery satin material between my fingers, I hear the click of the door opening. When I turn around, there is Elliot standing in the doorway, his eyes looking at my body as though he is thirsty and I am a tall glass of water.

  “I had to come in.” His voice sounds husky, it calls to me, down in my most private area. He is attracted to me, praise the god. He loves the lingerie. I nod, and he commences to walk toward me so painstakingly slowly that I have time to take three full breaths. He reaches out his hands toward me. Once he makes contact with my skin, he runs his hands down my arms and then up again, the feel of his touch leaving a line of fire along my arms. As he makes his way back down, he stops in line with my breasts. He inches his fingers sideways, towards my bra; he continues to move, closer to the center of my body, until he is stroking the tops of the lace where my flesh is revealed. He ducks his head slowly and kisses the top of my left breast and then following suit with the right. He pulls back to his normal standing position. Looking at my body, he steps closer to me and slides his hands down over my breasts, across my stomach, finally landing on the top of my panties. He traces around the top with one finger leaving a trail of electricity in his wake.

  Once he completes the full trail along the edges of the lace, he kisses me on my forehead and retreats, taking a large step back.

  “You are so incredibly beautiful, my Angela. I am such a lucky man. Now, I need to leave this room, while I still have some semblance of willpower left. I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.” He turns on his heel and leaves the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.

  As soon as I am alone once again, I quickly get changed for bed, cleansing the make-up from my face and unpinning my hair, relishing in the feeling of no longer having pins sticking into my scalp.

  Once finished, I leave the sanctuary of the bathroom and return into the bedroom. Looking across at the bed, I notice Elliot waiting for me, sitting on the bed in his pajamas. A line of pillows has been laid down the middle of the bed, creating a wall. He jumps up when he spots me “I’ll just go brush my teeth and then, if you want to, we can hit the sack?”

  He walks directly into the bathroom and I hear the faucet turning on and then off again, the tell-tale signs of teeth brushing coming next. I sit down on the bed waiting for his return. A few moments later he is back in the bedroom. He stops directly in front of me and bends down, applying a soft, quick kiss on my forehead. He then continues to walk around the bed, flopping down on the other side.

  “You built a pillow wall?” I ask.

  He shrugs his shoulders “I know, it’s a pathetic excuse of a safety net for you, isn’t it?” he replies.

  I pull away all of the pillows and lay down next to him, snuggling into his open arm and resting my head into the space between his shoulder and chest, wrapping my free arm around his torso. “We’re both adults Elliot, we respect each other. I know I’m safe with you, baby, and a pillow wall wouldn’t stop me either”

  He kisses the top of my hair. “I’ll tell you something, you would be a hell of a lot safer if you didn’t wear that sexy lingerie, Angie. I think I almost caught on fire seeing you in that, but I assure you, you are safe with me”

  I feel him press his lips against the top of my head again. “Let’s go to sleep. After all we have Christmas shopping to do tomorrow.” I hear him chuckle in response. I lift myself off of Elliot, turning my body so I can reach the bedside lamp off. I click off the switch and then resume my position in his strong, muscular arms.

  It must have been a combination of the plane ride and all of the emotions felt throughout the night, but it isn’t long until I am fast asleep, dreaming of a future that involves wearing a long white dress and veil with Elliot Sands waiting for me in a tuxedo at the end of an aisle.

  ~ Chapter Eleven ~

  Elliot

  I’m lying here, the women I love enclosed within my arms, and I can’t help but smile. Her breathing is a soft, rhythmic sound beside me. She is relaxed, finally, after the night we’ve had.

  Inside I’m fuming. I’m so full of fucking anger. How did he pass my companies criminal check we perform on all employees? Unless he was already working or me when this happened? Tomorrow morning, I’m going to phone Dylan and sack him. But then again, that would be too simple, after what he did to this angel sleeping peacefully with me. He deserves to experien
ce something along the lines of the pain he caused her: a long, drawn out torture.

  The scar on Angie’s leg is large and unpretty, not from a slice, but from torn flesh. She mentioned a broken leg. The bone must have pierced through the skin. I’ve broken bones before in my life, and not once have they ever pierced my skin. This only happens from extreme pressure.

  Her injuries from that sack of shit are extensive. She listed broken ribs, fractured cheek, and many more. To think of my woman in any pain makes me sick, sick to my goddam stomach. For a man to lay a hand on a woman like that, he needs his head punched in.

  The smile on my lips turns from one of content, into satisfaction. A plan is unraveling in my mind. I should arrange a meeting with him at a building site, and then proceed to kick his ass from one side of the building site to the other, and then all the way back again.

  However, the rational part of my brain chooses this moment to let itself be known and tells me if I do indeed perform this act that I’m picturing in my mind, then it opens me up to a whole heap of liability, and what good does that do? For him maybe, opening me up to one hell of a lawsuit, and from the way she described Dylan, I could see him taking that opening with both hands and riding it all the way to the bank.

  I could afford it. I’m worth fucking billions of dollars, but that’s not the point. I have to be smart about this. One thing was for certain, though: he would never get the chance to see her, let alone touch her again. I would make sure of that.

  My arm tightens around Angie and she moves. Her palm comes up to rest on my chest, her bare left-hand clenching at the fabric of my sleep shirt. I reach down with my right hand coming across to sit on top of hers.

  She brings out a side of me that I want to lock away: possessiveness and protectiveness, that if unchecked, will get us both into a whole lot of trouble. I want to hurt anyone who even looks at her the wrong way. I want to keep her here at my side, never letting her out of my sight, and that’s nothing compared with how my libido turns on in her presence.

  Tonight, she asked me to unzip her dress; a simple request, you would think, until I saw my vixen wearing black lace underwear. I mean fuck, I almost creamed my pants seeing her standing there in nothing else. She excused herself to the bathroom and I couldn’t, or more so wouldn’t, leave well enough alone. I followed her in and allowed myself to touch that pale skin as soft as silk. She never trembled when I kissed her full breasts, or when I trailed my hands down towards her pussy.

  I would have given everything I owned to slip inside her at that moment and hear her call out my name in the throes of passion. But I’m holding onto a secret.

  I’ve let Angela believe that I’m fairly innocent and that I’m waiting till marriage out of some ill-guided ideal. I’ve told her I’m not a virgin, but she has no idea to what extent. For all I know she believes I’ve only ever touched one woman before. But that’s not the case. When my ex-girlfriend cheated on me, I flipped out. I went to a local bar and took some random girl home, planned to go the entire way with her, but stopped, just before slipping into her wet, waiting pussy. Luckily, she was so incredibly drunk that she figured we had gone all the way, thanks to my incredibly agile fingers.

  After it got around campus that I was single, I had women throwing themselves at me. And that was before I even cracked my first million dollars. I’ve taken woman to motel rooms from bars before, even gone home with someone on a blind date. But it never felt right. Sure, I got my rocks off, but what good is it when you feel nothing afterwards

  So, I vowed to wait. To wait until marriage, if I had to. Wait for the woman who makes me feel something. But, now with Angela, I don’t want to wait anymore. I want her to be mine, in every meaning of the word. And if all goes according to plan on Christmas Day, then she will be mine. For the rest of our lives.

  ~ Chapter Twelve ~

  Angela

  The smell of bacon wakes me the next morning. It invaded my dream just before I realize that it was, in fact, coming from the kitchen. I rub my eyes and slowly open them to find myself alone. I stretch out as long as possible, enjoying the immense amount of room in this king-size bed.

  I roll over into the side Elliot had occupied last night and I bury my head in the pillow. I can still smell his scent and it’s intoxicating. An alluring mix of musk, spices, and sweat, it is uniquely Elliot. No one else in the world smells the way he does. While greedily taking in his scent my mind drifts to last night. The way he looked at me in my underwear, the way he kissed me on the tops of my breasts and ran his hands down my body, the way he walked away knowing it was the right thing to do, he was such a gentleman.

  I am glad that I am alone, as I know that if he came in and looked at me now, I would look like a grinning lunatic. My mind then drifts to earlier in the evening and seeing Dylan. I clearly remember the look on his face. Confusion and shock were both written all over his features at seeing me, especially seeing me with his boss. I wonder for a moment what he thought? What else had he said to Elliot?

  Elliot told me that Dylan told him that we knew each other from high school. It was a lie. Dylan is a few years older than I am. We actually met at a local café, when I stopped in to grab a sandwich for lunch. He, too, was there, and we got to chatting.

  He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his boss that he had abused me or that he should leave immediately due to a legal document, knowing that I was there. Had he told him anything else about me? Maybe he made up lies about me to Elliot?

  I shake my head, trying to get away from this train of thought, instead remembering how proud I was of the way I handled myself. I was the one to walk away. I didn’t make a scene. In fact, I walked away and left my boyfriend to talk to my ex-fiancé. I roll over in bed to look at the ceiling and throw my arm over my eyes.

  I allow myself a few more quiet moments in bed before following my nose out to the kitchen in search of that delicious smell.

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk into the bathroom quickly checking how I look in the mirror. I pull a brush quickly through my hair and gargle with some mouthwash to freshen my breath. Sufficiently happy with the way I look, I leave the peace and quiet of the bedroom and peer around the corner of the door to see Elliot in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Considering he is a self-confessed burner of toast, my heart swells to twice its size seeing him in the kitchen.

  “Smells amazing,” I call out as I make my way through the main family area and take a spot at one of the barstools in front of the breakfast bar. “Pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. You sure do know how to spoil a girl” I smile up at him and can see a spot of flour on his cheek as well as on the apron he is wearing.

  “I wanted to cook you something special for breakfast, like you did for me last time you were here” he responds. He proceeds to then point out the bacon that is currently on a tray in the oven, keeping warm. “How did you sleep? I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asks.

  I answer straight away. “I feel like I slept well. The smell of bacon woke me, but that’s all right. I’m hungry! How did you sleep? Have you been up for long?” My belly decides to growl at that precise moment. I get up and open the fridge and withdraw a carton of orange juice. As I am finding a glass to pour it into, Elliot starts speaking.

  “I haven’t been up that long. Maybe forty-five minutes or so. And I had a beautiful girl in my arms all night, so I slept very well.” At the end of his speech, he turns away from a pancake bubbling in the frypan and kisses my cheek.

  I pour us each a glass of orange juice and pluck two knives and forks from the drawer along with two placemats and set our places at the breakfast bar.

  “Want me to help you?” I ask as he is concentrating on flipping the pancake. He just shakes his head in response.

  “Okay then. I’m glad we have a delicious brekkie coming. I’ve got some shopping to do today and I’m going to need my energy. Will you be coming with me?”

  With a successful flip under his belt he looks up a
t me and smiles, “I will be coming with you, but I’ll duck off and get a couple of items while you’re finishing your shopping. We can then meet up when we’re both done, if that works?”

  “Sounds perfect. It’s going to be busy being Christmas Eve, so hopefully we can get in and get out quickly” I’m mentally making a list of items I will need to purchase with my limited funds. Maybe it was time to transfer some money from my trust fund? After all, who knows if I will ever need to buy a millionaire a present again. A $15 tie won’t suffice.

  “Okay. Breakfast is served.” He passes the plate over to me. I must smile when I see that he has made a smiley face with the bacon on the pancake.

  “You’re adorable. You know that, right?”

  He chuckles, “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He rounds the island himself and sits beside me with his own plate. We drizzle maple syrup over our meal, and I dig in. It is incredibly yummy. I eat quite quickly, catching Elliot staring at me from the corner of my eye. A few minutes later I am mopping the plate with my last piece of pancake when he speaks again. “You look like you enjoyed that.”

  I place the piece of pancake in my mouth. “I did, thanks, baby. Remind me to thank Andrew when I see him next, for teaching you that recipe” I lean across and kiss his cheek, then slide off my chair and step behind him wrapping my arms lightly around the tops of his shoulders followed by a kiss to the top of his head. His hair is damp, it also smells freshly shampooed. It’s then that I notice he is already dressed for the day. I let him go, and wander into the bedroom, rifling through my suitcase to find a suitable outfit for shopping. I settle on jeans, a white long-sleeve turtleneck, and my black trench coat. I group it all together and walk into the bathroom to have a shower.