His hands were on the car by her hips, anchoring himself as he sank into her body. She reached down and wrapped her hands around his wrists as she simultaneously wrapped her legs around his waist. He froze, their gazes fused. A bead of sweat ran over his nose and dropped, splashing on her nipple, burning her like a bead of molten rock. “I’m doing this all wrong,” he panted.
He slid deeper into her. Inch after thick…fat…inch. Oh god. She tightened her hold on him. “No. S’good.” She moaned as he fit deeper, her body too tight and small, but trying all the same to swallow him with all the greed in her heart.
“There are rules.”
“No there aren’t.” She bit the words out when he rolled his hips.
“Yes.” His voice was guttural, unrecognizable. “You make me forget everything.” When he bent his head and slurped one of her nipples into his mouth, Angel gasped.
He’d grown larger.
He’d gained height and weight and—ye gods!—even his cock was more massive than it had been moments before.
She recoiled in sudden fear.
Otto sensed the change in her a half second before she felt it.
His thoughts were just as storm-tossed as hers. He knew he was mucking everything up, confusing them both, making their glorious union a clumsy and turbid affair. Angel didn’t understand what was at stake, and he wanted to ignore the compulsion that had brought him here. Wanted to say to hell with what he was and what she was to him and just attack her. Tear her apart with his sex and his lust. He wanted to throw himself into her, body and soul.
But he couldn’t. She deserved better. She deserved the best he had.
This should be fun and exciting for her, just as it was for him. He wanted her to scream with the thrill only he could provide.
This was Angel—his Angel, for he’d claimed her in their first incredible kiss. She was special. The fact that she was here tonight while the moon was full was an unfortunate trick of fate. But it needn’t be a disastrous one. He could still salvage the situation for them both, he just needed to tamp down on his more devilish instincts.
Instincts that screamed take her. Take all she has to give and then demand more!
She struck him dumb with her beauty. Splayed out before him like an offering of flesh and seduction, the moonlight revealing all her beauty in gilded silver. Her nipples were dark and plump, long and taut on the crest of her apple-sized breasts. Her belly was flat, the skin pale and soft. Her legs were incredible, long and shapely and stronger than he could have guessed, squeezing him about the waist like vise grips. And her sex, her beautiful, soft, wet pussy, was so tight, so slick with her desire, he could hardly keep a thought in his head when he felt the rose-colored folds of her flowering desire squeeze his cock.
But he must find control or it would be over too soon.
He wanted more.
Wanted to give her more.
Her pulse, an echo of her heartbeat, caressed the length of his shaft and thrummed against the crown of his cock. Otto groaned, feeling the pressure build at the base of his spine, tightening his balls, electrifying every nerve ending until they screamed for release.
“No.” His ragged denial echoed in the near ferocity of the wind. Angel’s aquamarine eyes opened wide with surprise. He couldn’t quite meet her gaze, not now, or all would be lost. He pulled back, feeling her denial in the tug of her slick sex as he retreated. He pulled her down the hood of the car and turned her, so that her features and her all-too-seeing eyes were faced away from him.
Yes.
This was perfect. Her heart-shaped bottom was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen. He found himself on his knees behind her, pressing a kiss to the center of each deliciously taut cheek. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he let his tongue run up the length of her spine, pulling the flavor of her into his mouth. He licked her shoulder blades and her neck. He drew the lobe of her ear into his mouth and suckled.
But he could play no longer. There would be no more hesitation, no more awkwardness. He couldn’t bear it.
Otto rose, fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her head back so that she was arched like a beautiful sculpture in his arms. “Say this is for me. That you’re giving this to me and only to me. Say it.” He felt the words grate in his mouth, felt the animal in them, and knew she heard his savagery.
“Otto,” she begged. “Please.”
He parted her legs and surged into her, forcing the last inches of himself into her incredible tightness with a roar he couldn’t bite back. Her sharp cry was snatched away by the wind, but he heard it all the same.
“Say it.” Otto lowered himself over her and took the flesh of her shoulder in his mouth, anchoring them both. His hips rocked back and forth, his arms around her, crossed over her chest and holding a breast in each hand. He squeezed and tugged gently at her nipples, loving the gasps that exploded from her swollen lips.
She was soaking wet, soaking him too with her silky need. He wanted to touch her more deeply, crawl into her and live. Because he knew that his entire existence had led him to this night, this woman, and nothing short of an Apocalypse could keep him from her now that he’d found his Angel.
“Baby,” he rasped into the curve of her ear. “Tell me this is what you wanted. Just this.” He lowered his left hand, rubbed the soft flesh of her belly teasingly before seeking and finding her pussy. “It’s all I ask for.”
He parted her labia and massaged tiny circles into the wet tenderness he found there. The swell of her clit was a pearl and he treasured it, thumb and forefinger rolling it, pressing it, flicking it every so gently.
“I need the words,” he panted. “Just give me something.”
Angel groaned and shifted, as if to move away.
Smart girl.
But Otto wanted her, needed her. She would never escape him. He swore and bit her neck none too gently. The walls of her sex closed around him like a powerful vise and he couldn’t restrain himself one second more.
He ground his weight into her, pumping his hips between her spread legs endlessly, until the car rocked with their rhythm. Angel was keening high in her throat, her skin breaking beneath his teeth so that the salt of her blood scorched his tongue.
Angel felt the world shrink to a singularity. There was nothing but the two of them. All the fear and confusion she’d felt but minutes earlier were completely gone, replaced with a ferocious need for release that drove every coherent thought from her mind.
She felt something like a hot fist reach down into the center of her, reach and find what it sought. Felt it rip her climax out with savage greed. She sobbed, then screamed as her legs gave and her universe centered on the throbbing pulse radiating out from her sex.
Otto reared back and let out a howl that sent her heart spiraling into her stomach. Then came the hot, scalding splash of his seed deep inside her. It further lubricated them both, so that now he moved like lightning, slipping inside of her fast and sure, only to withdraw and repeat the movement. He was tireless and ferocious. She could hear their sex, hear the tug of her body, the shove of his, and knew it to be a most sinful yet absolutely perfect union.
They collapsed, panting, gasping for air. His weight was crushing her, the hood of the car hard under her. But Angel had never felt so satisfied. So comfortable in her own skin.
“No.”
It took several ragged breaths before Angel understood what Otto was muttering.
“No. No. No. This was all wrong.” Otto’s tongue laved the wound on her shoulder, a love bite that had perhaps marked her more fully than she would like, but a mark of their passion nonetheless.
She moved, turning to see his face, only to find it hidden in the shadows. “What’s wrong?”
Otto’s hair was a wild mane and it shook with his denial. “This can’t be.”
Angel felt her eyes go as wide as saucers. Most of the heat of their union left her and she felt an iron-cold gate close down over her heart as it fled. “What?” Her
voice was flat.
“Angel. Baby. I’m sorry.” He sounded tormented, his words choked. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
Angel’s temper flared and she had no sympathy for him in that moment. “Well it did.”
“I know. I don’t understand how to explain, but I need—”
“Oh shut up, Otto.” She lashed out, shoving him away from her. Her hair blew in the wind and the cold bit at her naked flesh, but she didn’t care. “I’m not going to ask you for a commitment or anything. Jesus!”
“Don’t say—”
“Shut up, I said! Look at you, so worried I’ll want something more from this. I know how men like you are—you’re good for a quick fling and then you move on. You don’t have to search for any excuses with me.” He gaped at her and she found herself laughing, heard the anger and some dark, seething emotion beneath that. “If you could just see yourself, Otto. So scared of a little ol’ thing like me. Well don’t be. You didn’t promise me anything. We just f-fucked.” She tripped over the word, hating the crassness of it, hating herself for saying it. “Hell—call it payment for fixing my car if you want.”
“Angel, you don’t understand the situation here…”
Otto’s shoulders slumped and she heard him let out a long sigh. Was it relief she heard in that breath? God. Her heart twisted, robbing her of breath. Was he really so worried she might expect something more from him after this…the most incredible—and disturbing—encounter of her life?
Damn him.
How could he hurt her so easily? So quickly? And further, how could she let herself be so vulnerable? Angel tried to force some sense back into her stunned brain. What was she thinking? Standing naked out here where anyone could happen upon them, giving herself so completely to him even as her head swam with confusion and delusion. Had she gone completely mental? What was wrong with her? She wasn’t like this. She was Angel Twardowski, a woman in full control of her softer emotions, a woman who didn’t just swoon into the arms of every man she met. She was a grown woman, strong and stoic and independent. She didn’t need or want anything more than what Otto was willing to give her.
Right?
Right. So why then did she feel so wounded, so confused, a paper cut on her heart and a taste like charred ash on her tongue?
It didn’t matter. It was clear Otto dreaded what he viewed as any post-coital clinginess on her part. For once this night let her be the one to confuse him, confound and upset his senses. “Get lost, Otto. I got what I wanted from you, just as you got what you wanted from me. See ya around. Maybe.”
Where were her clothes? Angel couldn’t see them anywhere.
Fuck it.
She didn’t care to stop and search for her stupid clothes, or deign to ask Otto if he knew where they were. Angel had no memory of shedding them—but it didn’t matter, she swore to herself. Without a second glance in Otto’s direction, she threw open the car door and got into the driver’s seat, naked and enraged. She revved the engine once, loving the loud, low roar, satisfied when Otto jumped back out of the way as she pulled away as fast as the Diablo would carry her.
The image of him in her rearview mirror would stay with her for many days; his long shadow slicing a black wound through the crossroads as she sped away, naked and dazed behind the wheel of her old car, wishing with all her heart that she’d bought a new car years ago so that this need never have happened.
It was the weirdest night of her life. And she totally blamed the car for it.
Chapter Four
“There’s something different about you lately, Angel. Are you doing okay?”
Angel paused, the wineglass inches from her lips. “What do you mean?” She tried to keep her tone light and sipped delicately when she wanted to gulp the fermented grapes.
“Hey, don’t snap my head off. And you obviously know what I mean. The whole damn restaurant heard you, geez,” Robin hissed.
Angel took a deep breath and blinked the fatigue from her eyes. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”
“You’ve been pulling long hours at the shop for those racers, I heard,” Yancy added.
Angel tossed her head back to hide from her friends’ watchful eyes. “Yeah. And we just got three customs in too, plus the normal flow of repairs to deal with.”
“Is that all?” Robin asked, knowing her friend too well to let it go after Angel’s uncharacteristic outburst. “Nothing else going on?”
Angel rolled her eyes and thought quickly. “I’m just feeling weird. Maybe it’s the flu.”
“Maybe.” Yancy didn’t sound as if she agreed. “You look great though. I love what you’ve done with your hair.”
Robin nodded. “It’s a great look on you.”
But Angel hated it. She’d had her hair cut on a whim, the long layers giving her the look of a fey anime character when she felt more like a cave troll, malevolent and cranky. She should have shaved her head, then let her friends lie and say they liked her new look.
Wait a minute. She forced herself to erase that last thought.
What the hell was wrong with her lately? Her friends were her center, her pillars of strength. How could she be so grumpy? What kinds of thoughts were these, and why was she having them with increasing frequency and at the most inappropriate times?
“Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” She attempted a smile and was relieved when her friends smiled back and the awkward moment passed like a banished specter.
It was their bi-weekly Wednesday dinner and even though Yancy was a newly affianced woman, she hadn’t missed it and so neither could Angel, though she’d thought long and hard for an excuse to bow out tonight. Truth was, she didn’t feel much like socializing with anyone.
Truth was, she felt more comfortable around strangers lately than she did around the people she’d known and loved most of her life.
Truth was, she didn’t really know herself anymore.
Truth was, she was unnerved by the stranger who stared back at her in the mirror every morning.
And even more unsettling was that there was something different about her. Angel didn’t understand it. But she knew it had a name, and that was enough to keep her seething.
Otto.
No matter how hard she tried—and she did struggle valiantly—she couldn’t get him out of her mind. From the time she rose each morning to the time she retired to her bed, every thought she had was centered on Otto. On that moonlit night two weeks ago when she’d lost her head and inhibition with a man she knew absolutely nothing about, when she’d become someone else. Someone no longer afraid of the dark things in her imagination, yet more inclined to reflect on those dark things and, well, revel in them.
A tiny shadow darted at the corner of her field of vision, distracting her.
She was easily distracted these days. It was weird.
“So you’ve chosen the flowers, now for the catering. For the reception, you should pick stuff you won’t mind eating as leftovers for a few days after the wedding. What do you suggest, Angel? Angel?” Robin snapped her fingers. “Earth to Angel, do you read?”
She started and reached for her wineglass, only to find it empty. “How about those little bacon roll things from the 819 Cafe? I can eat those ’til I puke.”
“Ooh, good idea.” Robin seized on the suggestion. “In fact, let 819 cater the whole thing, they had awesome food at the Jansen-Calburgh wedding.”
Yancy nodded, jotting in her notebook. “So we do a chicken or beef choice for dinner and just little pastries and finger foods…”
“Any vegetarians coming?”
Angel drowned them out and the tiny shadow darted at the corner of her eye once more. Without a second’s hesitation, she darted her hand out and caught the dangling spider in her hand.
The silence that descended on their table weighed two hundred tons.
“What?” Angel frowned as the two women gaped at her.
“Gross.” Yancy shivered, eyes wide on Angel.
Robin
swallowed visibly. “Honey, you know you just caught a spider with your bare hand?”
“Yeah?” Her frown deepened. “So?” She laid her hand, the one holding the spider, against the soil of the nearby window box and gently, deliberately opened her fingers. The spider hesitated then crawled forward until it found the safety of the dirt and shadow of the green leaves then raced away, out of sight.
“So, you’ve been terrified of spiders ever since we were twelve when that daddy longlegs fell on your face.”
“It was in my basement, that time we were looking for a wrench so you could raise the seat on your new bike,” Yancy prompted.
“Oh yeah.” Angel breathed out. “We never found the wrench, did we?”
Robin and Yancy both exchanged worried looks that Angel noticed. She gritted her teeth, knowing the questions would start pouring out at her.
“Honey, are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting really strange.”
“I’m fine, Yancy, honestly.” But she wasn’t. Angel was tired and she was antsy. But it was more than that. A stranger had slept inside her these past few weeks and now it was awake, now it was eager. “But, you know, I am pretty tired. I think I’ll head home now, if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” Yancy assured her. “Get some rest, okay?”
“Call me when you get home so I know your car made it in one piece.”
Angel managed a laugh at Robin’s tentative jest, and almost told her the car had been running like a dream for the past two weeks. Almost said that the Diablo hadn’t even backfired once since she and Otto had—
But she couldn’t tell her friends that. Not only would it sound implausible, it wouldn’t even register on the radar once her friends heard that she and Otto had been horizontal after just two meetings. Some things were best left unsaid, even amongst the best of friends.
Rising tall in her heeled shoes, Angel swept the folds of her butternut leather coat around her.
“That silk skirt does wicked things to your legs, Angel,” Robin complimented.
Sexy Beast Page 3
