“Keys!” Oh, he was so busted. And he’d totally upstaged her joke.
“No, no, tell me what you were going to—”
“The keys are in your pocket.” She smacked the bulge and folded her arms across her chest.
He gasped. “I had no idea.”
“You just wanted me to talk dirty to you.”
Daniel chuckled and dug out the set. “Can you blame me?”
“Yes.” No, not in a million years. “You will have to make this up to me, Mr. Flynn.”
“I will, I will.” He fit a key into the door. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you how.”
“Well.” She pretended to consider, thinking that this kind of teasing silliness had been a big part of her family life and completely absent from her relationship with Tom. What had made her think she could find happiness with him, with his family, in that totally foreign environment? Being with Daniel felt like coming home again. “I guess you could do that.”
He escorted her inside the building and they climbed the carpeted stairs in silence that was full of promise, full of unexpected emotion. Angela had no need to fill the quiet with chatter as she always had with Tom. She and Daniel had gone from silly teasing to this totally different kind of intimacy easily and with mutual understanding.
Bonnie was right. She was falling for him. Hard. Yes, too soon, yes frightening, but by now undeniable. And if Daniel turned out to be a jerk and crushed her heart, so be it. She’d live to love again.
She would.
That fact was probably obvious to most everyone on the planet, but for her it was a lightning bolt of realization. She didn’t have to have power over Daniel. That had been the wrong place to focus, the wrong way to approach him, with gloves on, hands up in strong defense.
She’d always had and always would have power over herself. And that was all she needed.
They entered his dimly lit apartment; he closed the door behind them. “Do you want anything? A drink? Something to eat? Glass of water?”
“No. Thank you.” Angela walked to him, feeling more whole and sure than she ever had. “Just you.”
He wrapped her in his arms, took her mouth with his. She responded, and without warning or preamble they caught fire, immediate, blazing and disorientingly hot. They devoured each other’s lips, pulled at each other’s clothes, greedy for the feel of skin, then stumbled through the living room and tumbled onto the couch, not even willing to go a few yards farther into his bedroom.
“Daniel.” She gasped out his name, grabbed his shoulder to pull herself on top of him.
“Wait.” He stopped her.
Wait for what? What was he doing? She pushed hair out of her eyes and saw him rolling on a condom. Thank God he had enough of his brain working to remember.
“Now.” He spoke urgently, pushed himself against the back of the couch and opened his arms.
“Yes, now,” she whispered, and climbed onto him, grasped his penis eagerly and guided it just barely inside her.
Ohhh. They made the sound together, gazing into each other’s eyes. She lifted off, let her weight drop again. Another half inch.
Ohhh.
Up again and down, another inch that time as he stretched and filled her. Brief pause, then next time down nearly all the way, loving his hissed intake of breath, the way his eyes narrowed into fierce enjoyment of her movement. Up so he was almost free, another pause then she sank deliberately until he was all the way in, both of them gasping at the pleasure. Angela rested there, listening to their breaths catching, feeling more beautiful and desirable than she could ever remember, and more comfortable in her own body, knowing that Daniel wasn’t thinking of the woman he wished she was, but of her, Angela Loukas, naked and crazy about him.
The urge to move became strong; she used the muscles in her thighs to lift and lower in a regular rhythm, dropping her head, eyes closed to savor the feeling. She took it slowly, landing with him deep inside her, circling her hips to stimulate her clitoris, delaying gratification of her need to ride him harder. She wanted to be in this moment as long as possible, to be aware of Daniel and her feelings for him. Now that she was no longer afraid of them, no longer in denial, she wanted to take them out and examine them in as much detail as she could.
Up…and down. Up…and down, feeling him, feeling for him, until Daniel grasped her hips, urging her on. Angela gave in, increasing the pace and the arousal, throwing her head back, parting her lips, giving herself over to the delicious thrust and pull. His hands left her hips, arrived on her breasts, warm palms caressing her.
The touch sent her even higher, she used more strength, wanting him in and out faster, harder, keeping awareness of Daniel over her body’s animal need for release until that need took over and she panted his name, clutching his hard shoulders, tipping her pelvis forward so her clitoris ground against his pubic bone on every thrust.
Yes. Yes.
Her breaths grew shorter, her muscles threatened to cramp. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t interrupt the sensation of being entered over and over, the slow and perfect rise to ecstasy.
Seconds before her climax hit, she opened her eyes, and found him watching her, his jaw tight, muscles taut with his own pleasure.
“Daniel.” She barely got his name out, felt her body flush. She was close. “I’m going to come.”
“Angela.”
“Right now.” She arched back, let the wave burn over her, felt him grab her and work his hips in a wild loss of control that bounced her up and down.
“You are so sexy.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “You’re making me insane.”
Oh, Daniel. If she was sexy it was because he made her feel that way, every minute she was with him.
“Good,” she whispered. “I want you insane. And I want you to come inside me.”
He did, with a brief shout of ecstasy that tensed his body and flooded his skin with color. Joy swelled her heart and her throat. This man…
His eyes opened, bright blue, sated and happy. He pushed hair from her face, leaned in to kiss her, then brought her back against the couch with him and kissed her some more. And then more, and after that, more—long, sweetly passionate kisses.
Ohhh, she loved this. Amazing sex with an amazing man. And look at her. Angela Loukas was okay, blissfully okay, and still in control of herself and her emotions.
“I’m really liking the take things slow angle.” He stroked her hair, her arm, her back. “I wasn’t so sure the last times we went out, to the museum and so on, but yeah, right now I’m a total convert.”
She rolled her eyes, head resting against his shoulder. “Um, that’s great, Daniel.”
“Seriously. This is the best platonic date I’ve ever had. You were absolutely right that it would be better if we took things slowly until—”
“Okay, okay.” She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “So that didn’t work.”
“It couldn’t. It’s too strong between us.”
She lifted her head, feigning confusion. “What is?”
“Uh.” His eyes narrowed; he looked supremely uncomfortable. “You know. ‘It.’”
More laughter. “Chicken.”
“Yeah?” He poked her shoulder. “You define it then.”
“I will.” She snuggled in again; his arms came around her, making her feel protected, delicate and small. She was none of those things, she was a tough Amazon warrior princess, but right at this moment burrowing safely against a large, warm male body felt perfect. “That’s easy.”
“Yeah? Tell me. What draws us to each other?”
“All that platonic lust.”
“Really.”
“Uh-huh. Nice and simple. I want you, you want me, we do it platonically, and then it’s over. That’s why when we finished, I immediately climbed off you, got dressed and left.”
“Ah. Good. Okay, then. Thanks for explaining that.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled against his skin, inhaled him shamelessly. “Anything else?�
��
“I was thinking…”
“Mmm?” His hands were absolutely delicious, spreading and kneading the muscles of her upper back and shoulders. She wanted to hire him as her personal masseuse. And sex slave.
“Maybe we should keep on using each other like this. You know, many more totally platonic dates where we screw and then leave each other right away. What do you think?”
She kissed the swell of his pectoral, happiness fizzing away inside her. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not sure I feel that platonically about you.”
“No?” She blinked in surprise. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. In fact.” He held suddenly still, which made her breath stop instinctively. “Angela…”
She waited, on a thin edge between hope and apprehension. “Yes?”
“I’m falling for you. You’re…I mean when I’m with you, I…I’ve never felt…” He let out a breath of frustration. “I’m a guy, sorry.”
“No, no, I heard you.” She felt suddenly completely calm. This was right. She was falling for him too and that was completely okay. “You said, ‘Angela, when I’m with you the world is a better and brighter place, and I’ve never been able to feel so myself and at the same time so connected to someone else.’”
“Wow.” He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s exactly what I said. You have excellent hearing.”
“I feel that way, too.” She did. Crazy about him and also strong and intact in herself.
His laughter faded. He put gentle fingers to her chin and drew her mouth near; they kissed again, but with a different kind of passion, the passion of two people who know there is nothing in the world more important or right at that moment than kissing each other to seal an emotional bond.
So she kissed him in that beautiful, sweet…
Um…sweet…
Ooh, not so sweet.
“Angela?”
“Mmm?” She was suckling the skin of his neck, brief bites of total abandon.
“I think we’re about to get platonic again.”
“Oh, yes.” She made her way back to his mouth. “I think so, too.”
“Not here, though.” He invited her off his lap, then led her into his bedroom. “Here this time.”
She looked around curiously, clinging to his hand. “Oh.”
“It’s not much but it’s home.”
“No, no, it’s really nice.” She rushed to reassure him. “Like a cozy…jail cell.”
“Wait, really?” He appeared dumbfounded, eyes dancing. “White-on-white-on-white isn’t your thing?”
“White-on-white-on-white with gray bicycle.” She pointed to it, leaning against the wall, then did another slow spin. “You should get Bonnie to do up an arrangement of silk flowers.”
“Flowers?” He squinted at her in disbelief. “I’m a man! You forgot this soon after I was inside you?”
“Hmm.” She moved over to the bed, climbed on and tipped her head to look at him, thinking she’d never had this much fun in her life. “Remind me?”
“I guess I better.” He grabbed a condom from his bedside table drawer and settled beside her; she welcomed him with hands leisurely stroking his chest, then his abdomen, down to his penis, which began to swell under her touch. Daniel knelt beside her, so strong and male, while his eyes watching her fingers were lit with warmth. She loved that dichotomy, his powerfully masculine physical presence, and his sweet, funny and kind nature.
He was growing hard, solid and tempting under her fingers. “Ohhh, yes. I’m remembering now. Male. Right.”
“Glad to hear that.” He rolled on a condom, then moved over her with typical grace to suckle her right breast, doing his Daniel-magic, getting her desire to lift its head and say, Ooh, goody, again?
Yes, yes, again.
Her left breast was next, honored and lavished with adoration that made her hips gyrate in anticipation of what was to come their way.
Except what came their way first was his mouth and his tongue, probing with gentle, wet touches that ratcheted up her breathing and made her body squirm with impatience.
Another sweet nip from his lips, then a long warm trail from the base of her opening up to her clitoris, setting nerves alight along the way.
“Oh. My. That is…” She closed her eyes, basking in the sensations. “Wonderful.”
“You taste so good,” he whispered.
His tongue again, touching, probing, leaving unsatisfied places here, then there, increasing her torture, and her desire. “Daniel.”
“Mmm?”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
A deep chuckle, another light flick of his tongue across her clit. “Good.”
“No, not good. I want.” Her voice sounded odd, urgent, her hands scrabbled over the covers. She was slightly disoriented, and wasn’t sure she should be. “I want…more.”
“You’ll get it.” He kissed her reverently. She didn’t want reverence. She wanted carnal, she wanted wild, she wanted the full length of his tongue, or his cock inside her. “In a minute.”
She whimpered. “That long?”
His fingers joined in, teasing the outline of her sex, passing over her labia, spreading them, then tracing her opening while his lips barely tasted her clitoris, again and again.
Angela was going to scream. She was going to open her mouth and scream bloody murder. She hadn’t ever been made this hot with so many teases, so few touches, so little certainty. She loved it and she hated it. She wanted him to stop and she wanted him to keep going.
“Please.” God, she was begging. She’d never begged. Where was her power now? What had happened to keeping herself—
“Oh!”
Daniel pushed a finger inside her at the same time he lowered his mouth and worked her in earnest.
Angela’s hips lifted off the bed by themselves. She heard herself making guttural, foreign sounds. Her hands reached to clutch his hair; her body writhed. She couldn’t hold back. Whether she wanted to or not, he was going to make her—
“Oh!” Again she cried out, the orgasm slamming into her, second one always more intense. Over and over the waves came and she lost control, lost herself. “Daniel!”
A cry for help, as if she were going to drown in the feeling, which it seemed she might.
Then his weight on top of her, his lips on hers. Angela opened her legs instinctively, still pulsing with pleasure, pleasure that increased as he slid inside and moved urgently, almost roughly. She tilted her pelvis to take him in deeper, wrapping her arms around his upper body, breaths coming out nearly as sobs. His thighs slapped against hers with each thrust, his shoulder muscles strained. When he climaxed he whispered her name.
In answer came his name, followed by those three terrifying and important words, shouting so loudly inside her head, it was all she could do to keep from saying them out loud. She’d seen the edge coming and had been unable to resist, had gone sailing over without any means of slowing or stopping herself.
Daniel, I love you.
13
ANGELA STARED AT her baking schedule for May, hand poised over her mouse. Lavender éclairs should come out of rotation; they were labor intensive and hadn’t been selling well. If they’d been a new recipe for cookies or bread, they would have been history weeks ago. She’d kept them on for two reasons. One, because new products sometimes needed an extra nudge and she’d like to give them a chance. And two, because she was stubborn and determined, and they’d come to symbolize her dreams for A Taste for All Pleasures’ future.
That was probably laying a little too much responsibility on an éclair.
She used her mouse to highlight the text: lav-en-der é-clairs. Time to be brave, sensible and practical.
Click. They were gone. See? Easy.
No problem. She was proud of herself.
Urgh. She put them back.
Apparently it was
an indecisive day.
Angela had woken up after uneasy dreams in which Daniel had made love to her, smiling, then shoved her off the bed and shouted “done,” which ushered in the next of what turned out to be a line of sexy, naked women curving around his block. The relief when she realized she’d been dreaming had faded while the queasiness remained. Daniel hadn’t called all day, and her message on his cell had gone unanswered. She knew it didn’t have to mean he’d gotten sick of her already, but…
The office phone rang, making her jump. Flynn, Daniel on the display. Hmph. Apparently he’d finished the line of women.
“Hello, Ms. Loukas.”
“Hello, Mr. Flynn. How goes the day keeping Slatewood safe from the forces of evil?”
“Complicated. An employee turned off her virus software to download something yesterday and forget to restart it.”
“Uh-oh.” Angela cringed. “Anything happen?”
“Yup.” He sounded exhausted. “The forces of evil accessed our central data bank.”
“Oh, no! Oh gosh.” Angela immediately felt tenderly protective of his company’s data. No wonder he hadn’t called. Though really, he could have… “Can you do anything?”
“Ha!” His tone was worthy of Captain America. “You doubt my power?”
“No! No, of course not.”
“We caught it in time, in fact, the security systems in place worked just the way they should have, and our department got a big pat on the back. But it’s been hell getting there.”
“I’m sorry. But that is wonderful, congratulations.” She swivelled her chair away from the computer. “I bet that woman is relieved.”
“Rebecca?” He chuckled. “You might say that. We’ve been glued together all day.”
Angela swallowed, not loving that image, and hating that she immediately associated a woman with why she hadn’t heard from Daniel all day.
Calm down, Angela. Her dream meant nothing. As did the fact that Tom’s affair with The Princess had started this way, with innocent mentions of how closely they worked together. Tom was not Daniel. And vice versa. Rebecca was not The Princess. Angela hoped. “Glued why?”
“She’s terrified for her job.”
“Right. Of course.” She tried to sound sympathetic and thought she’d done a good job. Sort of. “What will happen to her?”
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