Forever My Angel Part 4

I really don't want to think about that question. If he's coming for her again, I will not stop until he is eliminated. I can't let him hurt her again, and I can't let her live in fear.

Kevin's tone is clipped. "I can't say, but I'm inclined to agree it wasn't just kids causing trouble. Everything is too deliberate. The cleaning stuff? The alcohol? If I had to wager, I'd say that was to cover the tracks of what they were really after and make it look like a break-in. A smokescreen, if you will. The cops will focus on that and not bother to look deeper."

Ware stands. "Your guy here is right. I've been that kid causing trouble; there's not much else to do in tiny backwoods town other than screw, get s.h.i.+tfaced, and cause trouble. But this, this doesn't feel right."

No one asked for his opinion. I stand too, ready to be done here. "I've got to get Tess home. Don't say any more than you have to about this in front of her. Can you stay here tonight to make sure Chel is safe? Hopefully Lexi won't mind too much." Just thinking about Lexi and Kevin together makes me growl deep in my throat.

Kevin looks like he wants to refuse, but I pay him d.a.m.n good money to handle s.h.i.+t like this for me.

Chelsea tries to diffuse the situation. "That's not necessary. I'll be fine."

I'm about to tell her that I didn't ask her if she'd be fine. I want someone staying with her, end of story. Before I can, Ware volunteers. "I'll stay."

Him staying with her is the last thing I want, but Angel asked me to try to be friendly. "Fine. But if something happens to her, I'm holding you personally responsible."

The ride back to the townhouse is far different than the ride to the bar. This time, Angel holds my hand the entire way, occasionally tossing me small smiles. I'm eagerly antic.i.p.ating taking her to bed.

As soon as we get home, I go in the bathroom to change, thoughts of burying myself in Angel occupying my mind. But when I come out Angel's already curled up on the bed, fast asleep. I pull the covers up around her shoulder, smiling as I notice how peaceful she looks.

At least one of us is.

Chapter Eight.

a-aa- "Longest. Hour. Ever." I shut the door behind Chelsea and Ware the next morning after we finish going through the townhouse, making an itemized list of things that are missing. I've been up since six this morning, reviewing upgrades to our security plan with Kevin. I thought our system was good, or at the very least adequate. But apparently it was more than a little outdated, and obviously it failed us yesterday. That changes immediately. Kevin is going to oversee getting an updated system installed not just in the bar, but in the apartment upstairs and here at the townhouse. I'm more than a little p.i.s.sed that he hadn't already identified the weakness, but I'm trying to remind myself that his proficiency isn't in technology. I've suggested he bring someone on immediately who does have that proficiency. My girls will be safe. I won't fail them again.

I'm turning back toward our small living room when a pillow whacks me in the side of the head. Angel giggles. "Come on now, he isn't that bad. He seemed a bit nervous, but who could blame him? Otherwise, I think he's nice."

I don't think he's nice. In fact, I don't want to think about him at all. "I didn't think they would ever leave." I hold the pillow in between my hands, waiting for a prime opportunity to toss it back at her. No way am I letting her whack me with it without retaliation.

"In that much of a hurry to clean up?" She begins gathering broken picture frames from the floor while keeping her eyes on me. I have to fight the urge to growl, all thoughts of goofing off with the pillow fading.

"Stop, before you cut yourself. You're not even looking at what you're doing."

She sucks in her lower lip. "Maybe there's something I like looking at more."

I cross the room in large, purposeful strides, the pillow falling abandoned to the floor. She takes my offered hand, rising to her feet. "Don't worry over the mess, I'll call a cleaning team to come in and put the place back together."

The playfulness fades from her eyes. "A..."

"Later, Angel. Let me take you back to bed."

"I'm not tired."

My eyes light up as desire pools in my stomach. "Neither am I." Sleep is so not on the menu.

She sucks in a sharp breath.

Keeping my eyes locked on her, I scoop her into my arms, holding her close against my chest with her legs draped over my arm. I have to watch my step to make sure I don't trip over any overturned drawers or their contents, but in mere moments we're in the bedroom.

"How do you want it, Angel?" I ask, laying her gently on the bed. Some days she still needs it slow, with her in complete control, to be comfortable. Other days I can't see any remnants of the frightened creature who first showed up on my doorstep, and she's more than happy to let me take the reins. I'd be surprised if the shock of having the place we live invaded hasn't stirred up her fears. I want to be what she needs me to be, but f.u.c.k, I just want to bury myself in her.

"Don't hold back," she whispers, looking up at me with a hint of shyness.

My breath hitches. "Are you sure?"

"Completely. I need to know that I'm still okay, that no one will be able to come into our lives and send me right back to who I was without warning, whenever they want. Show me I'm better. Show me we're untouchable."

Oh, she's very touchable, but only by me.

I can't get out of my clothes fast enough, but then I realize she's eagerly watching, licking her lips in antic.i.p.ation as I unzip my pants, my s.h.i.+rt already having been discarded onto the floor. I force myself to slow, lowering the zipper with agonizing care, then peeling the denim away from my hips an inch at a time, one side, and then the other. She's practically panting as she watches me, and that only encourages me to go slower. I love watching her savor this.

At last I slide my jeans free of my hips and let them drop in a puddle around my feet. I step free, then hook my thumbs in the waistband of my briefs.

"Wait," she says, causing me to instantly freeze. Has she changed her mind? "Let me," she offers, her eyes blazing. My breath catches in my throat. I step closer to the bed as she sits up, her hands replacing mine, her slim fingers ducking beneath the elastic, driving me wild.

"As beautiful as you look in my t-s.h.i.+rt, we need to get you out of it," I remind her.

A sharp tug at the waistband of my briefs catches me by surprise, and I step forward to keep my balance, bracing both hands against the edge of the mattress. My face is inches from Angel's, staring into her wickedly delighted eyes. "Patience," she scolds. Her tone encourages me to be a lot of things, but patient isn't one of them.

She scoots forward until her hands can reach around to my a.s.s. I groan in impatient pleasure as she slides my underwear down my b.u.t.t, leaving me just barely covered in the front. When she cups my b.a.l.l.s in her hand, letting me feel her warmth through the cotton, I can't take it anymore. I stand and remove the d.a.m.n underwear, then grab her by the waist and hoist her up on the bed. Then I'm leaning over her, one foot still on the floor, the other knee pressing into the mattress, my length pressing firmly against her as she lays back, staring up at me.

"This, off. Now." I lean the weight of my hips against hers, leaving us balanced precariously on the edge of the bed as my hands glide up the smooth skin of her stomach, taking the t-s.h.i.+rt she stole from me this morning with them as they go. It's pinned behind her in the back and she has to lift her hips to free it, grinding against me in the process. My vision blurs with wanting.

After stripping her of her gym shorts, and discovering she isn't wearing anything beneath them, I revel in us both being naked. Our flushed skin presses together as we kiss. I slide us both up onto the bed, our legs momentarily tangling together.

"I'm ready, A." Her voice is breathy, and I know she's going out of her mind, just as much as I am.

I gently stroke her with my finger, loving how wet she is. "Ready for what, Angel?"

"You." Her one-word answer sends a bolt of fire arcing through me.

"You have me." I flex my hips against her, removing my hand and sliding it behind her back, keeping us as close as possible. I don't know which of us is going to break first.

Her eyes are wide, begging me. "All of you."

I can't resist her any longer. I enter her with one strong thrust, causing her head to dip backwards as she sighs in pleasure. Being in her is like coming home, and I never want to leave.

I can never get over the feeling that our lovemaking is a gift, and it's one I don't take for granted. After everything she's been through, I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to be touched again. But rather than letting Nick take another moment from her, she gives herself to me completely, and that's something I'll be eternally grateful for.

The heat of our joined bodies is building, and I'm close, so close. It takes all of my self-control not to lose it right now.

Angel moans, meeting me thrust for thrust. Just as I begin to see stars behind my eyes, she gasps and digs her nails into my back, clinging to me like a life preserver as the waves of her o.r.g.a.s.m capture her in their current. Her walls press in on my c.o.c.k and I shudder, then thrust as deep as I can, giving myself over to my own release.

Afterward, we crawl under the covers, spent. Feeling Angel's leg draped over mine, her hand curled lightly on my chest, her breathing slow and even, I decide this is heaven.

Then she sighs, and it isn't one of the good, aI'm completely content' sighs. No, this is one of those 'I have something to say, but I don't know if I want to' sighs that us guys fear. It's the equivalent of, awe need to talk.'

I s.h.i.+ft my hips, tucking her closer under my arm and turning my head to study her. A dark tendril of her hair is laying across her face; I gently brush it back, tucking it behind her ear. "What is it, Angel?"

She keeps her gaze turned away from me. She rarely meets my eyes when she's nervous. I tilt her chin up, not letting her hide.

"I don't want you to call a cleaning company."

That? That's what this is about? My chest instantly lightens and I have to fight the urge to laugh. "Okay..." I'm sure there must be more. There's always more.

"What?"" Her nose crinkles.

"Nothing. I just thought this was going to be a bigger deal than just you not wanting to hire cleaners. Though I'll admit I don't understand why."

Her brow furrows, and I worry I've misspoken. "That's just it! I'm here all the time, unless I'm hanging out at the bar with you. I have nothing of my own. I do nothing on my own. And I do nothing for us."

What the h.e.l.l is she talking about? Is this what she was getting at on the ride back from the farm yesterday? "Angel, you do everything for me, just by breathing. Don't you understand you're the air I need to survive?"

"But I need to feel like I'm contributing. Like we're equals. You have all this money, and you own the bar, and some day you'll own the farm. I might as well be Vanessa. If we get married someday, everyone will think I'm just a gold-digger, the trophy on your arm."

They wouldn't dare. I don't give a s.h.i.+t what anyone else thinks, but if it bothers Angel, then it bothers me. "We aren't equals, Angel. You rule me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Whatever you want, whatever you need, if it's in my power to give, it's yours."

"That's another thing. Stop putting me on a f.u.c.king pedestal! I don't want that, any of it. I just want us to be equals who appreciate each other."

I have no clue how to fix this.

"Think about how it makes me feel. I'm here with no responsibilities, and instead of expecting me to help you clean up the mess that's overtaken our home, thanks to those a.s.swipes who broke ina" her dark eyes flash with hatred "ayou want to hire it out to someone else. It's like you don't think I'm capable of handling anything!"

What?" "No, baby, it isn't that at all." I cup her cheek. "I was just afraid that thinking about them invading our home would scare you."

She sits straight up, shrugging off my arm. "Of course it scares me!" she snaps as she climbs out of bed. "It f.u.c.king terrifies me. But what scares me more is not mattering. That twenty years from now I might look back and realize the only thing I've ever accomplished was being the broken girl who somehow became yours."

She s.h.i.+mmies into her shorts and shrugs my s.h.i.+rt over her head. I'm alone in the bed, sitting in the mess of sheets, afraid to open my mouth and make things worse.

"Tell me what to do. How can I help you? How do I fix this?"

She looks to the ceiling as if answers will be written there. I wish they were. "To start with? Go to the store and get us another box of trash bags." She looks at the mess around us. "We're going to need a lot of them."

I took today off from the bar hoping to spend it in bed with Angel, but if my girl wants trash bags then I guess I'm going to go get trash bags. Even if I do think she might have lost her ever-loving mind.

Chapter Nine.

a-aa- By the time I get back, trash bags in hand, I think I understand better. When I took over the bar from my old man, one of the first things I did was remodel, add the second bar, and start booking more entertainment, making it a more relevant spot for the younger college crowd. I was desperate to prove that I was competent and capable in my own right, that I wasn't simply my father's son. Angel wants to be my wife, but she wants to be respected for her own talents too, not just the family we're both expecting her to marry into.

"You know," I say as I sit the box of trash bags on the counter, looking around. She's already made a big dent in the mess while I've been gone. "Enrollment for the spring semester at the university opens this week. We could register you for cla.s.ses. If you want to, that is."

She stares at me silently, her hand frozen midair, still clutching a book she was about to put back on a nearby shelf.

"...Or not," I offer meekly. "It's whatever you want, Angel."

She lowers her arm to her side, still holding the book as she sucks her lip in between her teeth. "Do you think they'd even accept me after I dropped out of ASU?"

I know I'm treading on dangerous ground here, but I don't want to give her anything other than complete honesty. "Most likely. And my checkbook tends to open doors that are otherwise closed."

When she frowns, I'm not surprised. "That's exactly what I want to avoid. I want to stand on my own merits."

"But?" I prompt.

The left half of her mouth curves into a tentative smile. "I do like the idea of finis.h.i.+ng my degree."

"I think you can do most of the application online, but I'll pick you up some brochures when I head over to the bar tomorrow afternoon."

I cross the room to pull her against me, relis.h.i.+ng in the feel of her breathing warmly against my chest. There are times when I just have to touch her, to remind myself physically that she's here, and alive. She wasn't the only one who was damaged by Nick attacking her. That day...my heart was ripped right out of my chest and smashed into the ground. Some days I can't close my eyes, unable to get the images of her at his mercy out of my head. I press a kiss to the top of her head, determined not to let today be one of those days.

The therapist she sees said something at one of our joint sessions that's stuck with me. He said that aokay' will mean a different thing to each individual person. Angel says her definition of okay is that she can recognize her urge to look over her shoulder for what it is, a remnant of her past, rather than part of her present. She says that accepting her fears as part of her makes her feel like she's in control of them, rather than them controlling her. That's her okay. My okay? It's doing everything in my power to keep her safe and happy. It's replacing the memory of her at his mercy with as many as we can make of her giving herself to me completely. As long as she's mine, she'll never be his again. He can't have a single moment of her future, because I claim it all.

Her arms find their way around my waist. I wonder what sort of chance I have of convincing her to abandon the cleaning and go back to bed? That reminds again me of what she said yesterday, coming back from the farm. "For the record, while I will always support you in your dreams, no matter what they are, I kind of like the idea of you waiting at home for me, barefoot and pregnant, your waist swelling with our child."

I hear the sharp intake of her breath. "Not anytime soon." She shoves playfully against my chest.

"No," I concede. "Probably not anytime soon."

She lifts ornery eyes up to mine. "Definitely not anytime soon."

I just smile, skimming my hands up her waist, rubbing the little spot at the small of her back that she likes.

Angel licks her lips. "I suppose it might not hurt to practice now."

h.e.l.ls yeah. Back to bed it is.

Chapter Ten.