by Banks, Maya
“It’s not the same. I’m supposed to be the strong one. I’m supposed to take care of Hannah—you.”
Not responding, she circled him, remembering the last time she’d held the whip in her hands as she gazed at his tanned back. She remembered his soft plea not to go easy. He hadn’t known it was her, but he’d needed what she could give him. Now she would show him again.
She flicked her wrist, expertly sending the whip over his back. The crack was loud, echoing over the silence. He flinched as the red welt appeared as a diagonal slash across his flesh.
“Tell me how to please you,” she murmured as she stood to the side. “You see, Micah, you can still be in control. Tell me what you want. What you need.”
“Harder,” he said on a groan. “Cover my back. Leave your mark, Angel. Make it burn.”
She moved again and added an identical stripe just two inches lower than the last. His hands clenched and unclenched above him. The muscles in his arms bulged and rippled.
She worked down, leaving a row of neatly placed welts. She started light and added intensity with each additional lash. When she reached his ass, she worked back up, crossing the earlier marks until all lines were crossed, each one redder than the last.
“Harder,” he hissed.
Her brow furrowed in concentration because despite his command, she wouldn’t shred his skin. Tiny droplets of blood welled, beading the thin lines, but she held back. Never would she hurt him. Never would she go too far.
By the time she’d covered his back in an intricate design of crisscrossing marks, he was panting, his breaths coming long and hard. Sweat dripped from his face, and he hung his head as exhaustion crept over him.
She dropped the whip and walked around to face him. His head was lowered, but his eyes glowed with arousal, with excitement.
Her gaze went to his groin, and his cock pushed impatiently outward, stiff and erect. She fell to her knees and fisted it in her hands.
“Oh God, Angel,” he whispered when her mouth closed around him. “Don’t, baby. I’m too big, too hard this way. You can’t take me.”
Oh yes, he was aroused, and she was determined she’d take everything he had to give and more.
She relaxed her entire body, gripped his hips and eased him forward until he touched the back of her throat. She sucked in air through her nose and then forced him deeper, taking him all the way to the balls.
She fought the reflex to gag and focused her entire concentration on his pleasure. She eased back, letting him slide over her tongue until the head balanced delicately there. Holding him tight in her hand, she swirled her tongue around the flared edges, exploring the differing textures. Rough, smooth, puckered and silky.
He moaned softly when she took him all the way again. For a long moment she held them there, deep against her throat, until she was forced to relent and ease away again.
This time when she grasped him in her hand, she pulled her mouth away and tilted his cock up so she had access to the underside. She ran her tongue along the thick vein, following it down to his puckered sac.
She licked, kissed and nibbled, letting his balls roll over her tongue. She sucked one into her mouth, and he gave a hoarse shout. She cupped him, fondled him and made sweet love to him with her mouth.
A tiny spurt of fluid spilled onto her cheek where his cock lay as she played with his sac. Knowing he was close, she rocked back on her heels and guided him back into her mouth.
She took him hard and fast, working him with her hand, swallowing him with her mouth. She tightened her grip and clamped down around him as she sucked.
A hot spurt hit the back of her throat. Then another and still it kept coming. She swallowed and continued sucking him, taking him deep, allowing him to pour himself into her mouth.
When the last spilled onto her tongue, she eased up, lapping gently at him, her hand soothing now instead of hard. She cupped his balls and massaged as she finally allowed him to slide from the clasp of her lips.
He was spent. Exhausted. His entire body trembled and a sheen of sweat lay over his skin. She hurried to retrieve the chair, and then climbed up to untie his wrists. He swayed and took a step back, but she was there, tucking herself against his waist and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“Come with me,” she said quietly. “I’m not finished.”
“I hope to hell you are,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t take any more.”
She smiled and guided him quietly down the hall and into the bedroom. He started for the bed, but she pulled him in the direction of the bathroom.
He went willingly, and she left him long enough to start the shower. Hot and full of steam just the way he liked.
Despite his lethargy, one of his eyebrows went up when she started to pull off her clothes. She ignored him and pushed him toward the shower.
The spray hit them both, and he groaned as the water sluiced over his raw back. For a moment he leaned against the wall of the shower, his forehead resting on his arm. He closed his eyes and let the water wash over him.
She took a washcloth and lathered it well with the bar of soap. Then she began to wash him. Sudsy foam made a trail up his body, only to be washed away as soon as it appeared. She lovingly touched every single part of his skin. She bathed his wounds, caressed his hurts and followed each touch with a gentle kiss.
Her heart welled with love for him. Seeing him vulnerable had shaken her to the core. He was so strong and yet he had needs just as she did. She wanted to tell him he didn’t always have to be the strong one. He could lean on her when he needed to.
After washing and rinsing his hair, she turned the shower off and started to get out. He caught her arm. “But what about you, Angel?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Tonight was all about you, Micah.”
When he reached for the towel she held, she again shook her head and proceeded to dry his body, taking extra care not to abrade his tender back. She wiped all the way down to his feet and back up again. Then she had him sit on the toilet seat so she could dry his hair.
Through it all he watched her with a bemused expression, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what he thought of it all.
Tossing aside the towel, she held out her hand to Micah. For a minute he stared at her and then her hand, before finally sliding his palm over hers and gripping her fingers.
She led him into the bedroom and urged him onto the bed. After toweling her hair one more time to get rid of the wet, she crawled in beside him and pulled the covers over them both. His warmth reached out to her and she snuggled close, pulling him into her arms until his head rested on her breasts.
At this moment, everything was right in her world. Nothing could intrude. Nothing could ruin this moment.
They lay there in silence for a long time. She thought he’d fallen asleep, when he shifted onto his back and pulled her up so she was cradled in the crook of his arm.
“Tell me about Mama Rose, Angel. Why were you there? You were no novice with the whip.”
Her chest heaved with a sigh and she laid her palm over his chest. “I was there for you, Micah. Only you. I practiced because I’d never hurt you with my inexperience. I worked for hours with Mama Rose and one of the other girls there, but you were the only one I ever whipped. You were the only one I ever went there for.”
He swallowed and was silent for a long moment. She waited for the questions, but they didn’t come. She waited for the anger or outrage, but he lay still beside her as if processing what she’d divulged.
“Once a year,” she murmured. “It was the one time I could see you and be with you. I wanted to be close to you, but you weren’t ready. Your grief was still so deep. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it, but the thought of someone else giving you release from your pain was more than I could bear. I wanted to be the one to take care of you.”
A light quiver worked through his body and she felt him inhale sharply.
“That’s what I was missing with Hannah,” he said
in a low, pained voice.
She ran her fingers down the midline of his chest and back up again, her movements slow and soothing. She didn’t ask him what he meant. Just waited for him to continue.
“I was always the strong one. It’s what I wanted. It’s what she wanted. She had me and David to protect her, to take care of her.”
“But no one ever took care of you,” she said softly.
“No,” he agreed. “I didn’t think I wanted it. But now . . .”
She raised her head to stare down at him, her hair falling over his chest, still damp. “Now?” she whispered.
“You make me want. You make me want things I’ve never wanted. How is that possible? The idea of sharing myself so deeply with another person. Of trusting them to see me ...”
“Vulnerable?”
He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“I’m vulnerable too, Micah. Always with you. Only with you. Is it so wrong for you to be vulnerable to someone who cares so much about you?”
“Yes,” he said painfully. “I don’t want to ever give someone that kind of power to destroy me.”
She leaned down to kiss him. His hands gripped her shoulders and he pulled her closer, his mouth melting over hers in a warm, sweet rush.
It was she who took control of the kiss. She touched his cheek, in a loving gesture, stroking as her tongue swept over his, light and soothing. She inhaled deeply, holding his scent, letting it wash through her quivering nostrils.
Though he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t admit it, his actions screamed louder than the boldest of words. He cared. Maybe too much. Maybe not enough. But when he touched her, all she felt was the most exquisite rush of love. It filled her with hope, made her heart ache.
She rotated, sliding her leg over his body, her lips never leaving his. Only when she’d straddled him did she break away.
She slid back until his cock jutted upward against her belly. She stroked lightly, running her fingers up and down the steel length. Then she rose up and tucked it into place. Slowly, reverently, she lowered herself onto his erection.
Their harsh breathing filled the air. She trembled. He shook. He reached for her waist, holding tight. She fell forward, bracing her hands against his chest.
When she was seated fully, she traced a path down his chest with her fingers, touching, loving. So soft, as if she could instill a hundred years’ worth of love in just a few moments’ time. She rolled her hips, making sweet, slow love to him.
Through half-lidded eyes, he watched her, a glow emanating from his dark depths. Yes, he could say what he want, he could hide behind his fears, but his eyes didn’t lie.
She reached for his hands, pulled them together over her belly and then slid them up her body until she clasped them over her heart.
“I love you, Micah,” she whispered. “You may not want it. You may not need it. But you’ll always have it. It doesn’t come with any strings or expectations. It’s given freely.”
With an agonized groan, he rose up, gathering her in his arms. He buried his face in her neck as he shuddered his release deep into her body.
She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight to her. She soothed her hands over his skin and just held him as he held on to her.
“Don’t love me, Angel.”
She smiled against his hair. “That’s one thing you can’t control, Micah.”
CHAPTER 36
Micah sat on the edge of the bed watching Angelina sleep. She was sprawled indelicately across the mattress, the sheets tangled at her feet. Her hair spread in a disheveled veil across her pillow, and she looked completely at peace.
When had she managed to creep past his defenses? He almost snorted. What defenses? He didn’t seem to have any where she was concerned.
She loved him. It awed him and scared him shitless. He hadn’t wanted her to love him—she deserved so much better than him—but he wasn’t going to lie to himself. Her love restored life to parts of him that had died with Hannah.
An ache started low in his gut when he thought of Hannah. So young and beautiful. So full of life. His only comfort was that she hadn’t gone alone. David had been there with her, had gone with her. And Micah had been the one left alone.
And you left Angelina alone.
The thought was a fist to the gut. He’d spent so much time alternately grieving for and being angry at Hannah because she’d left him. And then he’d done the same thing to Angelina. Hannah hadn’t had a choice, but he had.
His cell phone rang, and he reached to grab it off the nightstand so it wouldn’t wake Angelina. He moved away from the bed as he flipped it open.
“Hello,” he said in a low voice.
“Micah, this is Chad. Look I have some stuff you need to see. Is there somewhere we can meet?”
Micah shook his head in confusion. “Where are you?”
“In a cab. I flew into Bush half an hour ago. I think I have our guy.”
Adrenaline surged in Micah’s veins. “You know who it is?”
“Yeah, I think so. Now we just have to find him. I brought all the information I could dig up on him with me. Can we hook up somewhere?”
“Yeah, sure. Look, give the cabdriver this address. Have him bring you here.” Micah relayed the address to The House. “Thanks a lot, Chad. I owe you one, buddy.”
“No problem. David was my friend too. I looked out for Angelina the best I could after he died.”
“Yeah, I know,” Micah said quietly.
He hung up and went back to the bed where Angelina was now propped up, her eyes sleepy and her hair falling in waves over her shoulders.
“Who was that?” she said in a drowsy voice.
“Chad. He’s on his way here. He thinks he knows who our guy is.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s great! I mean, I guess it is. Will you be able to find him?”
“Just having a lead on his identity will give us plenty to work with. We can track him then. Learn his habits, his quirks, find out if he has any connections here. If he’s used any credit cards. Yeah, we’ll get him, baby. Don’t worry.”
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You should probably get dressed. He’ll be here in half an hour.”
He got up and walked toward the door. “I’ll wait downstairs for you. Come down when you’re ready.”
She nodded and he went down the stairs to wait for Chad.
Angelina took her time showering and getting dressed. She was in a mellow mood today and her clothing would reflect it. She chose her most worn pair of jeans—her most comfortable—and a cotton T-shirt that had been washed until it was faded and soft. Not bothering with shoes, she padded down the stairs.
She heard voices from the front sitting room, so she ventured in there. Micah and Chad were sitting across from each other and both looked up when she entered.
Micah stood, as did Chad, and she went to stand next to Micah. It was automatic, and he pulled her into his side, a gesture that comforted her.
“Hi, Chad,” she said softly.
He smiled warmly at her. “Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?”
She nodded. “Micah said you’ve found him?”
“Yeah, we were just getting to that.”
Chad pulled out a folder and handed it to Micah. What happened next was a blur. One moment Micah was flipping open the folder, and the next Chad whipped out his pistol and hit Micah in the back of the head.
Micah went down, blood spilling from the wound on his head. Angelina’s knees buckled, and she dropped down next to Micah, her hands going to his shoulders.
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” she screamed up at Chad.
Chad pointed the gun at Micah, his eyes so cold she shivered.
“Get up, Angelina. Do it now.”
“What is wrong with you? I need to call an ambulance. Are you crazy?”
The realization was slow to come, but when it did, it hit her like a sledgehammer. Her gaze flicked to the open folder lying
next to Micah on the floor. It held empty sheets of paper. There was nothing there. It was all a trick.
She stared in horror at Chad. Nausea bubbled in her stomach. “It was you,” she whispered. “You’re the creep who’s been stalking me.”
“Not stalking. I never stalked you.”
“What the hell would you call it then?” she spit out. “You made my life hell. I lived in constant fear. I had to pack up and move in the middle of the night.”
“You should have come to me,” he said calmly. “I took good care of you. For a little while you leaned on me. You should have seen that I was perfect for you.”
Oh, sweet Jesus. He was insane. Out of his ever-loving mind, and now Micah lay on the floor with a head injury.
“Get out of the way, Angelina. I don’t want to accidentally shoot you when I shoot him.”
Terror blew through her chest, robbing her of breath. He was utterly serious. There was no emotion, no reaction in his eyes. He would calmly kill Micah without a second thought. Unless she could stop him.
She rose to her feet, careful to keep her body in between Chad and Micah. Her knees shook, her palms were sweaty, and if she so much as breathed wrong, she was going to puke.
“Please don’t kill him, Chad,” she said in her softest voice. “I’ll go with you. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. We can be together. I won’t fight you. But don’t kill him.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stared at her, but the gun never moved. “I’m supposed to trust you? After you betrayed me by sleeping with him? You’ve been holed up here acting as his sex toy for weeks now.”
“I didn’t know it was you. You should have realized what a crush I had on you. Why do you think I went to you for help? But you ignored me. You treated me like a kid sister. Like David’s sister. What was I supposed to think?”
“Why do you care what happens to him then?”
Angelina glanced down at Micah and prayed he was still alive, that she could buy him enough time.
“He was David’s best friend. And if you kill him, you’ll go to prison for murder. How can we be together then? You’ll leave me just like Micah left me, like David and Hannah left me. I’m tired of being left behind, Chad. If you care for me like you say you do, then you won’t leave me either.”
