Always Angel (The List #4)

by N. K. Love

  Out of the blue, Beth pulls up and away from me, getting off the bed. She swipes her finger through her pussy and sucks it.

  “Beth? What the fuck?”

  I’m laid out on the bed with a hard, wet dick, whilst my come makes a hasty retreat.

  “It’s not nice to be denied, is it?” My payback for denying her. I simply shake my head as Beth saunters towards the door, turning when she reaches it. “Or to be deceived.” And payback for buying these properties and not telling her straight away. Her devilish expression only makes me smile. She walks into the hallway and out of sight, then quickly steps back to add, “Oh, and I believe that’s 2-1! So when you said ‘we both know who’s gonna win’, you were talking about me—right?”

  With a sexy face full of pride and a cheeky slap of her own ass, she flashes me a little wink and then she’s gone.

  Needless to say, I no longer give a fuck about not coming. My girl is a fucking badass and I wouldn’t change her for the world.

  Chapter Ten

  Sunday 31st May 2015

  3:00pm

  Beth

  I drove into Central London after work on Friday night. It was a tedious, long drive, but replaying last Saturday night in my head certainly helped pass the time. I swear, when I hit him with my last line I just about lost my composure. The look on his face was more than worth it. I skipped, naked down in the hallway, fist pumping the air in celebration!

  Before going to sleep that night, we talked more seriously about why he’d bought the properties. He admitted that it’s his default way of dealing with things he doesn’t like; to conquer them. It’s like he has spent his life behaving in that way and now that overlaps into our relationship. The devil in me loves his possessive side, so I didn’t push too hard. It’s something we need to work on together, but for the time being, the night of rough sex followed by lovemaking, has made up for it.

  When I eventually allowed him to see my tattoo, he loved it and said I’d made a great choice. It’s pretty much a carbon copy of the vajazzle I had done with the angel wings. I’d shown Mink a photograph on my phone and he’d matched it to perfection. When I look at it, I can almost feel those beautiful kisses Jax planted all over those jewels that evening in the passenger seat of his car.

  Arriving at the convention Friday night, meant that I could get downstairs bright and early Saturday, to attend the ‘Welcome’ breakfast meeting. That was important for a first timer like me, because they gave a breakdown of the different lectures, workshops and Q & A sessions they’re holding. I needed to make sure that I was utilising my time wisely, because a lot of the sessions clash. With the help of one of the organisers, I went through the itinerary and plotted out my schedule.

  Having checked into my swanky hotel, I spoke to Jax for an hour and then managed to drift off into a wonderful restful sleep. The mattress is more like a cloud. Pure bliss. On both mornings I’ve woken up feeling surprisingly well rested. I just wanted to eat Jax for breakfast, but have settled for croissants and marmite instead. I took a leaf out of Wills book and Skyped him last night. After telling him how much I’d enjoyed the weekend so far, his tempting body had me cutting myself off and flirting with him instead. He was in his bedroom, looking drop dead gorgeous wearing just shorts. He’d been doing some core exercises in his gym and was about to jump in the shower. I swear I could almost taste the sweat shimmering on that toned up torso of his.

  Then Jax teased me with ‘Wish – 14’, wishing I’d play with myself for him. He’d already splashed out on eleven silly wishes in the week, messing around, playing games with me. But I’ve wisened up a little now and use them to my advantage. I cunningly countered by telling him to set up the screen on the basin, so that I could watch him take a shower.

  Angling the showerheads away from the shower door, he left it open for my horny viewing.

  Lord have mercy on my kinky soul—it was five star masturbation material at its finest. We touched ourselves whilst watching each other and it was incredible. He lathered his body, skimming up and down his erection until my inner goddesses were stunned into silence, drooling.

  Partway through, I had to turn off my preview window—not because I didn’t want to see how I pleasured myself—I just found it distracting. He watched the screen to his left side, with his right hand spanned over the tiled wall, his strong hand fucking his glistening cock and then the sound of his groans echoing around the bathroom—I was spiraling into orgasm without a care in the world.

  Keeping my hand still, enjoying the sensation of my tingling body, I watched him come as he pressed the top of his head onto the wall and you’d better believe that fucking chain was in his mouth too. A few seconds later and he turned to the screen, confidently squaring his solid shoulders. He just shook his head slowly, showing me his beautiful white teeth in the biggest smile. I blew him a kiss and closed my laptop, figuring there’s no need to say goodbye after that.

  That man has given me so many sexual memories, ones that get me wet at the mere thought of them.

  Yesterday, at the convention, I focused more on the logistics. I went to a Bookkeeping and Accounting workshop and one about Budgeting and Personal Finance. I decided to forgo the Negotiation and Assertiveness Training as Jax has promised to be my one-to-one mentor on that topic!

  The convention today has given me more food for thought with regards to my next steps. I have been considering buying another shop, but it’d mean investing some of the capital gained in Next Chapter. Following a two hour seminar I attended yesterday afternoon, I was left thinking that it’s not the wisest of decisions and Jax agrees. Instead, I’m leaning towards my second idea, which is to capitalise on my current location. Firstly, I want to link in with the local University again to help students and secondly, I want to start running late night book clubs. I’ve spoken to an expert today about licensing as I’d need to extend my opening hours, but I’d also love for people to be able to consume alcohol on the premises too. I can just visualise the seated area filled with people chatting about their latest book boyfriends, whilst enjoying a glass of wine and some nibbles.

  Being swallowed up in a jargon filled nightmare of licensing regulations still hasn’t deterred me. I’m left feeling excited about exploring the possibilities. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this afternoon’s guest speaker will hold more answers and give me a better insight. Apparently they’re an expert in making floundering small businesses flourish. Not that my shop is floundering, I could comfortably continue living off its income. But my itchy feet are urging me to try something new.

  Armed with an extra-large coffee, I nabbed a seat on the front row an hour early and read over my notes. I have met a few nice people so far, but most of the attendees here are so business driven and straight laced, they’re not really wanting to rub shoulders with little old me! When chatting amongst ourselves, I find that as soon as I answer their ‘What brings you here?’ question, they subtly move the conversation on to the next person. I may just be paranoid, but with all the networking going on, I’m politely discarded once they’ve determined that I’ve got nothing to offer them.

  The only time I’ve actually laughed today is just now, when I was talking to Wills on the phone. She’s still stressing about what to do with her money and said she’s started questioning everything her dad does, thinking he has ulterior motives for everything. I gave her a verbal shake of the shoulders and told her how lucky she is to have a dad like hers. He made a mistake, he’s sorry and he loves her—end of. I know she thinks the same as me but, in order for her to believe it, she needs to hear it from somebody other than herself.

  After giving her a good talking to, she repaid me by talking ridiculously inappropriately about her and Peter’s recent threesome. She knew exactly where I was and by that point I was sandwiched in a particularly lacklustre threesome of my own—only mine consisted of a man on my left, married to his laptop and another to my right, talking loudly on his phone about profit ratios, obviously t
rying to keep up appearances, but I just thought he looked like an ignorant dick.

  By the time I came off the phone from Wills, she’d teased out my naughty side, which was persistently egging me on to stand up and bellow ‘I love cock’ or something similarly improper.

  Having drained my coffee, I now need the ladies, but the first speaker of this session is now being introduced. I look around like a meerkat and the room is predictably packed. I don’t even think there’s any standing room left. So I cross my legs, cursing myself for loving coffee so much.

  For the next half an hour, we listen to a lady talk about self-motivation and staying driven, something I was struggling with recently. Although, my remedy didn’t include any of the things this lady has recommended. But, then again, I don’t suppose the room would be filled if she just stood up and told everybody to go and find themselves a nice piece of ass. Except me of course—I’d be there, fist pumping the air, whilst giving her a standing ovation!

  As she starts to wrap up her segment, I decide that I can’t wait any longer for the toilet. If I do, I’ll risk missing some of the main talk, which is the whole reason I’m in this room. So after plucking up the courage to ask Mr Laptop to save my seat for me, I crouch down and scurry out.

  When I return, I notice something is playing on the projector so they’ve dimmed the lights. Thankfully that gives me the opportunity to sneak discreetly back into my seat on the front row. I quickly mime a ‘thank you’ to Mr Laptop who nods curtly.

  I’d grabbed another coffee on the way back in because there wasn’t much of a queue, which means I’ve missed the introduction. When the short film finishes, it’s replaced by the speaker’s first slide, entitled ‘Be Proud, Not Satisfied’. The room stays dimly lit so we can focus on the slides and his voice. All that’s being said feels as though it’s being spoken directly to me. I think, at some point, I’ve experienced everything he is describing.

  As he effortlessly talks his way through the slides, I become more and more inspired. I don’t want to sit back and be satisfied, living off what my family handed down to me. He is right, I should have aspirations that scare me and I shouldn’t be afraid of failure—which I’m not. I want to try new things and learn from my mistakes. I want to learn from Jax’s success and truly achieve something that I can be proud of. And, yes, I know my goals may be minuscule in the eyes of most of the audience here. But, for me, they’re another stepping stone into achieving fulfilment.

  Glued to the slides, absorbing every word, the time flies by. This speaker is utterly captivating, I didn’t even touch my coffee—Yes, I didn’t touch my coffee! He. Is. That. Good!

  The presentation ends and the lights go back up gradually. The speaker takes his place at the lectern and my heart skips a beat. It can’t be…

  It is. It’s Jonathan Carter. Jax’s brother. Oh my God. How did I not know? He takes a drink of water, clears his throat and goes on to talk about the journey his company has been through. I’m frozen to the spot. I don’t want to make eye contact with him in case his incredible brain can read minds, which is ridiculous, but right now, I’m definitely not thinking straight.

  I busy myself drinking disgusting cold coffee, whilst I try to rein in my thoughts. There is absolutely no way in the world that he knows who I am—he doesn’t even know where his brother is. Jax can’t be upset about this. It’s not like I planned it. Neither Carter Corp. nor Jonathan Carter was mentioned anywhere in the information pack. So, there’s nothing to worry about. I should just enjoy the turn of events and then tell Jax later.

  Knowing who he is now, I’m even more fascinated by what he’s saying. Looking into those telltale gorgeous Carter eyes, I naturally feel connected to him; I don’t know if it’s because he reminds me of Jax, or because I know we both love him. The similarities are all there, his jawline, his eyes, that powerful aura that commands the attention of the room. He doesn’t have a big frame like Jax, but he can definitely hold his own. Tall, dark and handsome. The slight accent in his voice is there too, but I think the microphone is distorting it a little.

  Once I’m over the shock, I relax and enjoy listening to him talk about his empire, especially knowing that Jax is a huge part of it. Who knows when, or even whether, I’ll see this man again? This is actually a golden opportunity. It’s fate. So, when Jonathan opens the floor for questions, that deviant side in me raises my hand. Ooops.

  A couple of questions are chosen, but I keep putting my hand up high each time with confidence. That is until he picks me and I immediately want to cower in my seat and let someone else speak. What am I doing?

  “Yes. The young lady here, on the front row.”

  Jonathan gestures for the runner to hand me the microphone. Fuckity fuck fuck.

  “Hello, Mr Carter. Thank you… I’m not a financially driven person.” Mr Ignorant Dick on my right, huffs quietly under his breath. “But, I am ambitious. I’d like to know, what motivated you to ‘be proud and not satisfied’?”

  “Thank you…”

  “Bethany.”

  “Thank you, Bethany. Well, there’s only ever been one driving force in my life and that’s my family. Being successful doesn’t derive from being financially driven alone. People who think that, are obviously measuring success differently to me. My ambition was instilled in me from a young age. If you are ambitious and willing to put in the blood, sweat and tears to achieve your goals, I’ve no doubt you will be successful in the end. Personally, I am only successful when my family is happy…” Everybody turns into nodding dogs around me. “Thank you for the question.”

  As Jonathan casts his eyes over the audience to pick his next question, the runner reaches to take the microphone from me.

  “And are you?”

  Jonathan looks back over to me.

  “Sorry?”

  “Do you consider yourself to be successful?”

  The crowd scoff and mumble, evidently disgruntled at what I’ve asked the millionaire business tycoon addressing us this afternoon. The runner is apologising, whispering to tell me it’s one question only, but I don’t hand back the microphone.

  “In business, of course I—”

  “No… I mean personally.”

  Stopping Jonathan in his tracks, he regards me with curiosity rather than the disdain I’m feeling from the men either side of me. After a pause the room falls silent again as he leans towards the microphone on the lectern and simply answers.

  “No.”

  Moving swiftly onto the next question, it quickly dawns on me that I got carried away. With the attention drawn to the other side of the room, I make a sharp exit. It’s one thing telling Jax about this coincidence, but it’s a whole other scenario telling him I introduced myself.

  The plan was to have dinner with the other guests and then attend a meet and greet session with the speakers afterwards. I was heading back in the morning, but after that little piece of drama, I just want to get home to Jax.

  Ordering dinner at reception, I ask for it to be brought up to my room so I can make a start packing up. When my food arrives, I tuck into my spaghetti bolognese to satisfy my rumbling tummy, which hasn’t seen any proper food since breakfast.

  I sit in silence, thinking about Jonathan and that answer. I want nothing more than to help reunite Jax with his family. In my eyes, nothing else is holding him back now. He felt like a failure when he hit rock bottom; consumed with guilt, taking drugs and drinking heavily. I know he is ashamed of that. But, when he joined the Unit, he convinced himself that that was his way of making up for his mistakes. The fact that he is so determined to punish Chloe’s killer, tells me that he is still ridden with guilt.

  Now that he has agreed to put Samara behind bars, will that put an end to it? If Samara is ever found, will Jax be able to finally let go and move forward? I really hope so, otherwise we’re screwed. The sooner this Samara situation is handled, the better.

  Something that I can’t get out of my mind, which probably haunts me more is
that Jax will always feel like he has let his family down regardless.

  Pushing my half-eaten meal to the side, I take a shower and freshen up in readiness for a laborious drive home. I finish packing and wheel my suitcase to the elevator.

  6:08pm

  The hotel is buzzing when I enter the lobby. The hot buffet must be over with because the large dining room has been cleared and opened out so that it overflows into the reception area. There are groups of people chatting in swarms around me. The meet and greet is what a lot of people come here for. They network their shameless asses off trying to impress, wanting to exchange contact details with influential people and companies.

  I negotiate my way across the floor and wait at reception to check out.

  “Bethany.”

  With Jax’s name about to leave my mouth, I swing around quickly and come face to face with Jonathan. Up close and personal. Shit.