Angels & Assassins: BWWM Romance

by K. Alex Walker

  “Where did you learn to shoot a gun?” she asked. “The way you move, your obvious lack of ability to socialize…I’m going to guess former military.”

  “At some point,” he answered.

  “Australian Defence Force?”

  “In the beginning.”

  “Are you answering with short answers because I’m treading on territory that’s supposed to be considered classified?”

  He drew her into his chest. “No.”

  “So what’s wrong?”

  He ran his thumb over her wrist. “This is healing.”

  “Does that upset you?”

  “No.”

  “Gage, if you give me one more short answer, I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day.”

  “Why?”

  She pushed off his lap, picked up her plate, and went to the kitchen. He followed. Ever since her display with the gun outside, it was hard to imagine being too far away from her. It made him feel like he’d miss something else. Something even more interesting.

  She scraped off the plate, set it in the dishwasher, looked up at him and walked right past him without saying a word. He did the same and followed her to the front room. Ares, who’d been sleeping by the front door, looked up.

  “You were serious?” Gage asked.

  The doorbell rang, and without looking, she started for the handle. He crossed the room in a few steps and stopped her. When he looked out, the men from the construction crew were waiting on the porch.

  She whistled and Ares jumped up. “Come on, boy. Let’s go upstairs. Maybe I’ll read you a book. A nice long one. Anna Karenina.”

  He didn’t like whatever it was she was doing. Maybe it wouldn’t have bothered him much if she’d done it when they’d first met, but doing it now, when he was becoming more interested in her than ever, was pure punishment.

  “You really are going to ignore me?” he asked.

  She continued up the stairs. “Oh, how about War and Peace?”

  He watched her go, the nerves in his body beginning to awaken, ordering him to pace. He didn’t like this ignoring thing that she was doing. For reasons he didn’t understand, he itched to know more about her life up until the point they met and then, after that. He wanted to know if she thought about what life would look like after him and maybe even if he was somewhere in her plans.

  He opened the door to let the men in. When they asked where she was, he gave them an answer that, to his ears sounded like upstairs, but by their reactions appeared to come off as something completely different.

  The hardwood planks had been sitting overnight, so he would busy himself by laying those down. Tayler, he would deal with later. Ares he would win back the minute he popped open one of his food cans, but Tayler was a different story. She was a woman, and if Mo was any indication, she could prolong his sentence for days on end. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t intend to be in the proverbial doghouse for very long.

  *****

  By the end of the evening, the floors were placed and the kitchen cabinets installed. When the last drawer was fitted into place, the men had rejoiced with an uproar of excitement and rewarded themselves with boxes of pizza and beer.

  Tayler, true to her word, had remained upstairs all day. She’d tried to get one of the workers to sneak her a few slices of pizza, but Gage had immediately stepped in and took the plate to her himself. She’d continued to ignore him, pretending that she’d been more interested in her book and the pizza, but with everyone now gone, the sound of his shoes pounding on the staircase let her know that he’d had it with her game.

  Without knocking, he pushed in the bedroom door. She was sitting at the edge of the bed wrapped in a towel and smoothing lotion over her legs. She briefly glanced up at him before returning to her task.

  “Here.” He walked over and pulled a dessert plate from behind his back. “This is for you.”

  Her eyes fell to the plate, tempting her resolve. Strawberry pie was one of her favorites, and it wouldn’t surprise her if she’d mentioned it at some point and he’d remembered. However, she wasn’t talking to him. She also had to remember not to smile whenever he showed how frustrated her silence was making him.

  She reached for the plate, but he pulled it back.

  “First, you have to stop this shit.”

  She looked up.

  “I’m serious, Tayler.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, opened her mouth, but then turned away and pumped another dollop of lotion into her palm.

  He set the dessert plate on the nightstand, reached for the knot holding the towel together, and released it to pool onto the bed around her. She made no effort to scream or cover herself. Instead, she climbed to her knees on the bed, silently hoping that his darkening irises were a result of a direct surge of his libido. She wanted him. She’d wanted him. This moment was long overdue.

  He cupped her breasts. His fingers traced the outline of her areolas in tight circles until he closed in on the firm, aching nipples already eager for his touch. He was hesitant as he studied them as though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with them just yet. She hoped that from the options currently scrolling through his mind, he chose E for “all of the above”. She wanted his hands, his tongue, and his mouth. As a person, he was rough, but his mouth against hers was always gentle—like feeding on the very thing his appetite craved, but having that thing be exactly what he needed to savor.

  He motioned for her to move back to the center of the mattress, rolling her nipples between his fingers while she obliged.

  He joined her on the bed and she settled her hand against his zipper. Only when she looked up at him did he break his fixation on her breasts. His gaze landed on her mouth, which she bit in a way that likely hadn’t come across as sexy as it had been in her head. Then it moved up to her eyes. She squeezed him. With a groan, he bent.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders when she felt his tongue flick her nipple. He teased her, alternating between nibbling on the firm tip and sucking it into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue, and allowing it to pop from his mouth before he divulged again.

  Heat spawned between her legs. She grasped a handful of his hair and urged him closer. One of his hands snaked between her naked thighs and he made a low noise in the back of his throat when he felt her. She could feel it too. She was as slick as silk.

  “On your back.”

  Her body obeyed the command on cue, and she lay flat on the bed while his large frame hovered over her. He moved between her legs and nudged them wider with his knees. His eyes darted between her face and the area between her legs that she was sure was now visibly throbbing.

  “Close your eyes.”

  She closed them.

  He planted his hands on either side of her body and found her nipples again. Her hips arched against the roughness of his jeans in greedy anticipation of his swollen shaft, but he steadied the movement with his grip.

  “Not yet, love.”

  His fingers moved to her clit. Her chest went hollow, her breaths short. He slipped a finger inside of her sex, teasing a gasp that had dangerously sidled along the edge of crying out his name, but then he suddenly leaned back and cool wind rushed over the nipple he’d abandoned while doing so. She was about to groan in protest until she felt his tongue between her legs.

  He sucked her clit into his mouth in rhythm to the movement of his finger. The faster his tongue flicked, the faster his fingers slid. Pleasure racked her belly. Her fingers reclaimed the tendrils of his hair. Every nerve on her body had awakened, and the sensation of the silky strands in her palms went straight to her core.

  Oh God...

  She’d almost said it out loud. His caresses had nearly made her beg for the strength of what she’d felt hidden behind his zipper. She wanted him inside of her, stretching her while she traced every detail of the images inked along the right side on his body. First, with her fingers and then with her tongue.

  Tears sprung in her eyes when she fe
lt the familiar tug of ecstasy on the horizon. Innately, she knew that it wouldn’t be enough, but the surge was still strong, unrelenting, and powerful.

  Suddenly, everything stopped. His mouth was no longer on her body and the warmth of his flesh disappeared, rushing a stark cold over her skin. She opened her eyes and Gage was standing along the edge of the bed watching her, desire still evident all over his face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He tilted his head to the side. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Of course I’m talking to—”

  Her eyes flickered when she figured out what he’d been up to. She reached for a pillow and tossed it at him. He stepped aside, easily dodging it.

  “Will you eat your pie now?” he asked, green eyes gleaming.

  “Get out.”

  “Why are you upset, Tayler?” He tugged on her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed, and crouched until she could feel his warm breath where she ached for him. “You’re talking now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  His firm tongue jutted out, parting her, and he ran his fingernails down the back of her thighs while blowing cool air against her clit. Her body had picked up right where he’d left off, and she desperately needed him to indulge in her. The soft caresses and gentle blowing were only teasing her arousal.

  She pushed against him and he reared back, continuing to blow directly on the sensitive nerve endings. Then he gave her a firm lick before pulling away again in a never-ending game of sexual torture that was about to get his head trapped between her thighs.

  “Fine,” she groaned.

  “Fine what?”

  “You win. I’ll eat the damn p—”

  Before she could finish the word pie, he was finishing her.

  His mouth closed over her and he sucked at her with fury. Tears drained down the side of her face as she felt the orgasm approaching, a ball of electric intensity that spanned from her bellybutton to the dead center of her heat. His fingers slipped back inside of her body, stroking and caressing until his name erupted from her lips in a series of gasping cries. Her walls gripped the mischievous digits, extending her satisfaction into chaotic bliss.

  The movement of his fingers slowed, allowing her to float down from the height of ecstasy. He continued until she shivered, and then placed a kiss between her legs before pulling away.

  She looked up at him, hoping to see him shrugging out of his shirt and jeans. Instead her eyes met his back as he walked toward the bedroom door.

  “Where are you going?” she called after him.

  “To get you a fork.”

  -7-

  An entire week passed, each day traipsing behind the other with the acceleration of a sloth, and he’d yet to spend another night in bed with her. Tayler didn’t know exactly how she’d done it, but she had broken Gage.

  She’d assumed things between them had changed that night—the night she’d enjoyed the intimacy and the ability to feel close to him. His hands on her body.

  When he’d left to get the fork, she’d envisioned sitting on the bed and sharing the slice with him before giving into his diligent lovemaking afterward. But he’d simply taken an extremely long shower before going downstairs, leaving the door to her room open in the event that she’d need him for anything other than having him as a sleeping companion. He’d even placed Ares on guard in the doorway.

  His demeanor had also changed. Where before he’d been gentle with her, he was now sharp. Borderline crass. She’d gone from managing to live comfortably in a house that had appeared to nearly be complete, to grinding her teeth at the sound of every power tool working at a snail’s pace to finish a house that wasn’t as inviting as it had been a few weeks prior.

  She’d never before felt so dead. They’d been well on their way to building a friendship, or at least coming together somewhere on amicable terms, and her oversexed antics had ruined it all.

  “Have a good evening, Miss Diaz,” one of the workers said as he walked by her sitting on the deck.

  She looked up from her laptop. “You’re already taking off?”

  “Yes ma’am. Boss is letting us leave early. Mr. Wolfe’s orders.”

  He left with a tip of the hand against his forehead, and she returned to her computer screen to look at nothing. The wires for the internet and cable had already been run, but there’d been nothing on television or social media interesting enough to take her mind off what she’d caused between her and Gage.

  The minute the worker disappeared, Ares trotted out to join her on the deck, one of his squeaky toys between his jaws. The high pitched noise coming from the yellow rubber bone usually didn’t bother her, but today it was like a repeated jab to her inner ear.

  “Ares, you want a snack?” she said, hoping to distract him.

  “He just ate.” Gage stepped out onto the deck and placed a large brown paper bag on the table in front of her. “It’s a mozzarella and roasted veggie panini from the bakery café.”

  She peered inside.

  “And a brownie,” he added.

  The sweetness of the gesture radiated through the center of her chest. “Thank you, Gage.”

  “I’ve been shitty. I don’t like things between us this way.”

  She lit up even further when she realized that he was apologizing. “Why were you acting shitty in the first place?” she asked. “If you tell me what I did, I’ll do my best not to do it again.”

  He took the seat across from her. “There’s a serving for two in there.”

  She sighed, removed the two wrapped sandwiches from the bag and handed him one. Apparently, what had happened wasn’t up for discussion.

  “You didn’t do anything,” he finally answered. “I couldn’t find a way to sleep next to you.”

  “Just do like you did all the other nights.”

  He took a bite of his sandwich and shook his head. “It’s different now.”

  “Why is it different?”

  “I don’t just want to kiss you, Tayler.”

  Between her legs awoke with a start. “What else do you want to—”

  “Do you want something to drink?” He rose and returned with two glasses of water before taking his seat again. Then he continued, “I think about the positions that I want to put you in. The look of pleasure on your face. My cock inside you.”

  Tayler’s mouth fell open. She shifted in her seat as the newly impatient little button between her legs throbbed. “A-and why is this a problem again?”

  “How does your wrist feel?”

  She could barely feel her feet on the ground much less her healing wrist. “It’s fine. Tell me more about this cock inside me.”

  There was a faint hit of a smile on his face. “No, Tayler. It can’t happen. Not now. Not like this.”

  Although his tone was final, she wanted to know more. Hear more. But for the sake of not going back to where they’d been, she decided to change the subject. There’d been something else on her mind anyhow.

  “What brought you to Yearwood in the first place?” she asked.

  His shoulders barely lifted. “Drifted here. Had no real destination in mind. Just drank and traveled until I got tired.”

  “But since you made the decision to stay with me in the cottage, I haven’t seen you touch a drop of alcohol. What happened that night that got you to the point where I found you?”

  Nothing about his demeanor changed to insist that he’d been put off by the question.

  “I go dark sometimes,” he replied.

  “What does going dark mean?”

  “It means that sometimes I think about how death would be better for me.”

  A person thinking that their life was worthless was one thing, but a life without Gage? She didn’t even want to imagine it.

  “You asked me before if I was in the Australian military,” he added. “The Defence Force. It’s where I started. After a few years, I was promoted to a private, multinational black ops unit. A weaponized counterterrorism task fo
rce, so to speak. We weren’t necessarily centralized anywhere. The purpose of our faction was to remain completely covert and infiltrate terrorist sects where diplomacy wasn’t an option. My team consisted of six men from six different countries.”

  She’d never before heard of military collaborations, but then again it wasn’t as though she had drinking buddies that were a part of SEAL team six. What she knew was limited to the History Channel and conspiracy theory websites.

  “How does that work?” she asked.

  “The enemy of my enemy is my ally.” He broke off a piece of panini, tossed it to Ares, and then finished the remnants. “There was one mission we carried out where we defused a terrorist cell in Italy. I was on sniper recon. My job was to take out the member of an isolated extremist group that, based on the information we intercepted, was supposed to walk into Vatican City with enough C4 strapped to his chest to level a town the size of this one. We got in right under the wire, finding their meeting location the night before the intended attack.”

  “And did you miss your target?” she asked.

  He snorted. “I never miss, beautiful.”

  He’d said the term of endearment so casually that her heart had taken five whole seconds before it realized and started thrashing.

  “The mission was a success, but the missions weren’t the problem,” he went on. “Although we weren’t centralized anywhere, there was a single location that held some of our identifying information in the event next of kin had to be notified of a death. One of my teammates was in charge of the file security, but the intelligence gathering for our mission in Italy was so convoluted that an agent was given the responsibility for the duration. That agent had a mother who’d recently passed away from lung cancer caused by working in a US lab where she was exposed to the chemical beryllium. The government refused to pay for her care because the results were inconclusive; it couldn’t be determined that she’d been exposed at that lab. So when she died, he sold classified information as retribution. Our information. The guy I took out…his brother was one of the buyers.”