Taming Angelina: The Temptation Saga: Book Four

by Hardt, Helen;

  But oh, his kisses. He trailed his lips over her cheeks and neck, and he tongued the outer rim of her ear, her lobe, and then probed inside. She shivered. Her whole body quaked. His lips, his tongue, even the soft whisper of his breath sent blazes rippling over her.

  That amazing chest, that long hair falling in an onyx veil around her as he nibbled. Oh, so amazing, so good…so right.

  “Rafe,” she whispered. “Rafe, make love to me.”

  He slowly unbuttoned her blouse, unclasped her bra, and removed them both.

  “You are so beautiful.” His breath swept over her nipples and turned them hard. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful body, such a beautiful face, such a beautiful woman.” He closed his lips over one turgid peak.

  “Oh!” She sighed. “Yes, kiss my nipples, Rafe. Please.”

  “Mmm, any time, baby. So beautiful.”

  He tugged at the bud, tantalized her whole body. His fingers traveled up to the other breast and circled the other nipple. Flicked it. Pinched it. She spread her legs, urging him to dry grind against her.

  He obliged. She raised her hips to meet him, melding that sweet spot into him.

  “Baby, I’m so hard for you,” he whispered against the swell of her breast. “I want you so much.”

  “I want you too. Come inside me. Please.”

  “Mmm, not yet,” he teased. “I’m not done tasting you.”

  He let her nipple go with a soft pop and then worked her belt and zipper. Soon her boots, jeans, and panties were in a heap on the floor and his tongue was between her legs, caressing her wet folds.

  She shivered, she writhed. He tugged on her, sucked on her, flicked his tongue in and out of her wet heat. She raised her thighs and hugged his head with them, urging him farther and farther into her depth.

  “Rafe, that feels so good. God, I—”

  She almost said the three words. Not the time. She let her head drift back into the clouds as he pleasured her.

  “You taste great, baby, like fresh peach pie.”

  His words send tingles over her skin. His tongue and lips sent her over the edge. She reached forward, grabbed two fistfuls of his hair, and forced his face farther into her heat.

  And she soared to the highest peak in Colorado.

  As she drifted downward, his face appeared, his chin glistening with her juices.

  “Kiss me,” he said. “Taste yourself on me.”

  The most erotic words she’d ever heard. She pulled him to her and kissed him—a hard, possessive kiss that mingled their scents together and seared their mouths in white heat. They made love with their mouths, tangling their tongues, each letting out little groans as they meshed.

  Rafe ripped his mouth away. “God, baby, I have to be inside you.” He stood and made short work of his jeans and boxers.

  He reached into his night table drawer and grabbed a condom.

  No.

  The words were sharp in Angie’s head.

  No. Rafe. Only Rafe inside her.

  “Please,” she said. “No condom. I’ve been on the pill forever, and I promise I’m clean.”

  His black eyes widened and a smile crept to his face. “You sure?”

  “God, yes. I need you inside me. Only you.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m clean too, I promise.”

  He lowered himself and thrust into her.

  How complete she felt, how utterly in love. He started slowly, moving his hips in circles as he thrust, and every inch of her channel felt the sensation. The sensation of Rafe. Only Rafe.

  Her hands wandered over his sleek bronze shoulders, his strong back. Oh, the feel of him. Could the finest Asian silk rival Rafe’s skin? Never.

  His pistoning hips grew stronger, his thrusts harder. Soon he was plunging fast and deep, hitting a spot inside her that made her moan and writhe. The spasms started again, and the winds took her away once more.

  “Rafe!” she cried. “Harder, Rafe, harder!”

  He sank deeper into her, thrust harder in and out. “Oh, baby, I’m coming.” His voice was low and guttural. “God, I’m coming.”

  One last thrust, and he collapsed upon her breasts. Her fingers tangled in his locks, so soft and silky. “Amazing.”

  Had that come from her?

  “God, baby. Yes. Amazing.”

  Her heart yearned to say the three words it felt. They clogged her throat, itching to get out. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she knew he might feel the same way.

  “I should go,” she whispered, not wanting to at all.

  “Mmm, no.” He flipped to the other side of the bed and pulled her into his arms. “Stay.” He closed his eyes. “Stay with me.”

  She snuggled into that hard bronze chest. His heart beat softly into her ear.

  She stayed.

  * * *

  What a fantastic blow job! Rafe woke from the dream to find he hadn’t been dreaming at all. Angie’s dark head bobbed between his legs, her cherry lips around his hard cock.

  God, how good it felt.

  How long had it been since a woman had gone down on him? Too damn long, that was for sure. She nibbled along his shaft, kissed the head, and thrust her mouth downward and took all of him.

  Sweet heaven. If he died right now, he’d have no regrets.

  She continued her soft torture until he grasped her cheeks and looked into her emerald gaze.

  “Come to me, baby. Ride me.”

  She smiled, slithered forward, and sank her tightness down on his arousal.

  “That was the best blow job I’ve ever had, Angie.”

  She beamed, her eyes half-lidded. “You have a beautiful cock, Rafe.”

  Beautiful? A cock was beautiful? Maybe it was. She was sure beautiful down there, all glossy pink and purple folds, slick with peachy juices. Peachy juices that were slathering all over him right now. She moved her hips up and down, her beautiful breasts jiggling against her chest, her dark waves, tousled from sleep, drifting lazily over her milky shoulders. Those cherry lips were parted slightly. How he wished he could tug on them with his teeth.

  “Baby, you look so beautiful right now. Come here.” He pulled on her arms, lowering her to him. The tips of her nipples brushed his chest. He squirmed. She excited him like no woman ever had.

  “Kiss me,” he said.

  She attacked his mouth. They ravaged each other’s lips as she continued to ride him. He bucked underneath her, meeting her thrust for thrust. Her moans turned to panting, and she ground against his pubic bone. She groaned into his mouth, her heat clamping around him. What a turn on! Her orgasm felt almost as good as his own. Soon the spasms started at the base of his shaft and rushed outward, and he spilled into her warmth.

  So wonderful. He didn’t want to leave the warm glow of her, but she stood and went to the bathroom. In a few minutes she returned and snuggled back into his arms.

  “I think I’m going to be late for my lesson this morning.” She chuckled into his chest.

  “Baby, you’re so past late you’re not even in the same city.” He checked his watch on the nightstand. Seven thirty. “And so am I.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Chad.”

  “Are you crazy? I’m not having my girl make excuses for me. I have to get to work.”

  “But I wanted to talk—”

  “I wish I could, Angie, but I have to go. You want to come by here tonight? Tom’s working again, I think. I’ll cook you dinner.”

  Her sparkling green eyes lit up. “You’d cook for me?”

  “Sure, I’m a great cook. What do you like?”

  “Anything but goat cheese.”

  He laughed. “I think I can handle that.” He kissed her lips. “Stay as long as you like. Tom’s probably already up and gone. I’ll see you back here at six, okay?”

  “Okay.” She yawned and closed her eyes.

  If only he could stay here and look at her all day. Life would be darn good indeed.

  * * *

  His girl.

&nb
sp; He’d called her his girl.

  Angie smiled and wrapped Rafe’s covers more snuggly around her. Maybe he could love her.

  Her cell phone jolted her back to reality. Her mother. God. How had she almost forgotten what had led her here last night?

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Angie, you need to get back to the hospital. Things aren’t looking good.”

  Her heart dropped to her belly. “I’m on my way.”

  Should she shower? No. She gathered her clothes, got into them, and raced out the door of Rafe’s apartment. She violated the speed limit all the way to Denver. An hour later, she entered the hospital.

  Harper and Catie were already there.

  “Mama’s in with him now,” Catie said.

  “What happened?”

  “His heart’s giving out. He’s on machines right now.” Harper raked his fingers through his tousled brown hair. “He has a medical power of attorney. He doesn’t want to live like this.”

  Tears welled in the corners of Angie’s eyes. “When can we see him?”

  Their mother walked out, wiping her eyes. “He wants to see all of you separately. You first, Angie.”

  “Me first? Why?”

  “You’re the oldest,” Harper said. “Go on.”

  Angie trudged into the room her mother had exited.

  Her strong and robust father—the daddy who’d swung her high in the air and caught his little princess in his arms—lay motionless, helpless.

  “Oh, Daddy.” She sat in the chair next to him and took his hand.

  “My princess,” he said, his voice cracked and hoarse. “I want you to know, I didn’t—” He coughed.

  “Don’t, Daddy. It’s all right.”

  “I didn’t…change the will. I never would have.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. You wanted what’s best for me. I’ve been a spoiled brat. But I’m learning. I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t. You’re a good girl, princess. Good and strong. You can handle Bay Crossing. Harper’s needed here at Cha Cha, and it will be his one day. Catie will stay at McCray Landing with Chad. So though she’ll have an interest in Bay Crossing, it’ll be yours.” He coughed again.

  “You’re talking too much,” Angie said.

  “Yes, I’m afraid you are, Mr. Bay,” a nurse said as she entered. “Your monitors are going crazy outside.”

  “Daddy,” Angie said. “I know all this. Don’t try to talk anymore. Just let me say a few things.”

  He nodded, and the nurse left.

  “I love you, Daddy. No one could have asked for a better father. You think you spoiled me, but I’m okay now, I promise. I’ll handle everything that comes my way.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “And I have a secret. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

  “I promise,” he ground out.

  “I’m in love, Daddy. Completely in love for the first time, and it’s because of you. Because you made me see what a spoiled little brat I had become. So I started changing my attitude, and I found love.”

  His cracked lips looked like they were trying to smile.

  “Good, princess. Good. You deserve the best.”

  “I love you so much, Daddy.” Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her lips to his cheek. She wanted to stay, wanted to hold him to her forever. But Harper and Catie were waiting. There wasn’t much time. She blinked her eyes and steeled her resolve. “Goodbye, Daddy.”

  “Goodbye, princess,” he whispered.

  She hurried out of the room so he wouldn’t see her break down. He needed her strength. Her father was the strongest man she knew, but what he had to do now took the most courage anyone possessed.

  He needed the strength to die.

  Chapter Ten

  Three hours later, it was over.

  Angie drove home. In an ivory daze, she showered and put on some sweats. Then she lay on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

  She woke up to her cell phone. Didn’t bother looking at the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Angie?”

  Rafe.

  “I got your number from Amber. Are you standing me up?”

  Our dinner date. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I should have called but I fell asleep. My…my father passed away today.”

  Silence. Then, “Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was ill.”

  “I didn’t know either, until yesterday.” But I should have known. “He kept it from us. That’s why I came to you last night. I couldn’t be alone. And this morning I wanted to talk.”

  “I know. I should have let you talk. I should have talked to you last night. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”

  She let out a huff and shook her head. “You didn’t take advantage of me. I wanted you. I think that was pretty obvious.”

  “I understand. Making love is the ultimate sign of life. It made sense for you to want it in the face of death.”

  No, no. He had it all wrong! She hadn’t wanted to make love. She’d specifically wanted to make love with him. She loved him.

  Yet she hadn’t told him any of that yet. And right now, she didn’t have the energy to confess her love and face that he might not return her feelings. That would take more strength than she possessed at this moment.

  “Angie, have you eaten anything today?”

  “No.”

  “I’m coming over and bringing you dinner.”

  “But—”

  “No argument. I made some great stuffed pork chops and homemade applesauce. Good old comfort food. You’ll love it. I’ll pick up some wine on the way.”

  “Rafe, I don’t know. I’m a mess.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  Course he had no idea where she lived. Probably got that information from Amber too.

  Amber. She should call Amber. But she couldn’t find the strength to even press speed dial. Catie would let their friend know. She wasn’t as broken up as Angie was. Catie loved their daddy, Angie knew, but she wasn’t as close to him. Besides, she was married now. She had Chad. And their baby on the way.

  Who did Angie have?

  Harper. Harper was strong. He’d help her get through this. But he was her baby brother.

  She needed strong arms to hold her while she cried, a soothing voice to tell her everything would be okay, even when she knew it wouldn’t be.

  A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Rafe.

  The door squeaked open. “Angie?”

  His voice sent ripples through her. Even in her discombobulated state he affected her. “I’m up here.”

  Sounds came from the kitchen, and then the stairs creaked as Rafe ascended. She looked a fright, but she didn’t care. Either he loved her or he didn’t. Or he could grow to love her or he couldn’t. This was Angelina Bay at her worst. If he couldn’t take it, she’d be better off without him. Though she couldn’t bear that possibility.

  He peeked into her room. “Hey there.”

  “Hi, Rafe.”

  “Oh, baby.” He came to her, sat down on the bed and took one hand in his. “I am so, so sorry. You must have loved your daddy a lot.”

  The damn broke. She cried all the tears she’d tried to cry during the afternoon when all she could muster were silent weeps. She cried for her daddy, for herself, for any children she might have who’d never know their wonderful grandpa. She cried for her mama, for her loss, even though they hadn’t had a marriage of passion. They’d had a marriage of respect and deep friendship. She cried for Catie and Harper. But mostly she cried for herself and how no one would ever adore her the way Wayne Alan Bay had.

  She cried, and she cried, and she cried.

  Rafe’s black shirt was a mass of tears and nose drippings by the time she finally quieted.

  “It’s okay.” His voice soothed her. “It’s going to be okay, baby.”

  He held her then, held her and rocked her as she choked back the sobs that threatened to unleash again.<
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  Finally, he spoke. “Can you eat something? You should eat.”

  She shook her head. The thought of food turned her stomach. “Not hungry.”

  “Okay.”

  He didn’t push her, thank goodness. He’d made her dinner, and she loved him for it. For that and so many other things. For what a good man he was, his amazing work ethic, his devotion to his father, his devotion to the livestock he cared for at Chad’s. Mostly she loved him because he was Rafe.

  The man she adored.

  “Here,” he said. He arranged a few pillows and blankets and tucked her under them. Then he lay down next to her and gathered her in his arms.

  “Go to sleep.”

  And she did.

  * * *

  She awoke to Rafe still beside her. He’d taken off his jeans and shirt and wore only navy blue boxer briefs. She got up and headed to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror shocked her. What a freaking mess. How could he have stayed?

  But then, she loved him. She no longer cared what he looked like. She loved the Rafe inside. If he looked a mess she’d love him just as much. Was it possible he could feel the same for her? Would she ever have the courage to find out?

  She jumped in the shower. The water pulsing down her tired body soothed her aches. She closed her eyes and let the warmth coat her hair.

  “Like some company?”

  She opened her eyes. Rafe, naked and glorious, stood outside her shower, his hand holding the open door.

  She motioned him in. He’d taken his hair out of the ponytail, and it hung in glorious tresses down his back.

  “Here, let me help,” he said. He grabbed shampoo from the shelf and massaged a generous dollop into his hands. He spread it onto her hair and began to massage her scalp.

  Judy offered scalp massage for an extra ten dollars at the salon, and Angie took it when she had the time. But Rafe’s fingers were in a class all their own. He kneaded her head and neck and pulled the suds though her strands all the way to the ends. She savored the feel of his fingers, the warmth of his presence.

  “Now rinse,” he said, turning her toward the shower spray. He massaged the suds right out of her hair, squeezed conditioner into his hand, and stroked it into her hair. “Your hair is beautiful, Angie.”