by Kent, Julia
Chelsea walks beside me as we head back inside. “Tell everyone to go home, we’re closing down early tonight.”
She looks like she wants to say something, but then she nods.
I take the steps in the hallway two at a time, conquering them in long strides, angry that they’d dare wait between us. The only thing that matters now is getting to her side.
When I step into my apartment, Dougie stands and gives me a wary look. “Are the cops on the way?”
Angel’s huddled under a blanket on my couch. Her eyes snap open. “No cops!” Her chest heaves beneath the blanket as she struggles to sit up.
I don’t think I can make it across the room fast enough. The speed of light wouldn’t be fast enough.
I sit on the other end of the couch and pull her into my arms. As soon as I touch her, she shudders, then begins to sob against my chest.
“Do you think we should take her to the hospital?” Dougie asks.
Angel shakes her head, and I translate. “No. She’s coming out of it pretty fast. It was probably ketamine.”
“Fucking bastard. Guys like that don’t deserve to walk the earth.”
I couldn’t agree more, and I honestly don’t think I would’ve shed a tear had I killed the guy. It’s bad enough that he drugged a girl, but Angel is my girl.
“How do you feel now?” I stroke her hair, smoothing it against the back of her head.
“Tired. A bit sick to my stomach. But not as dizzy.” Her words slur slightly.
“Want me to get you some crackers from downstairs?” Dougie asks, sounding eager to be helpful.
“Yes, please,” Angel says, licking at parched lips.
“Do you need some water?” I ask, and she immediately blanches the palest shade of white I’ve ever seen.
She manages a watery half-smile. “Ginger ale.” Her lips move as if in slow motion, like she has to work to form the words.
“Be right back.”
Dougie disappears out my door, and I pull Angel closer. “Want to tell me what happened?”
She sighs, and for a moment, I think she might have blacked out, but then she finally starts to speak. “It’s my own fault. He’d been an ass at the bar when I wouldn’t let him buy me a second drink. He said he was sorry he offended me and offered me a bottle of water. It looked full and like it was just one of the bottles Chelsea had in stock behind the bar. I took it to shut him up then went to the bathroom. He grabbed me when I came out, and I freaked out. I think I passed out from fear.”
Fury zings through me, and I wish I could go hit the guy some more. “More than likely it was from the drug than fear, but it could have been either one.”
“I tried to call for help, but it was like my brain disconnected from my mouth.” Her lower lip trembles, and she lifts her fingers to it as if willing her body to settle.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m so sorry, I should have been there.” I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if I hadn’t looked up and seen him carrying her out at that moment.
“You can’t protect me every moment. And I’m the idiot who took a drink from a stranger.” I hate the way her voice is filled with such misplaced self-loathing. At least it seems like speaking is coming easier for her again.
Chelsea comes through my door, and she must have heard Angel’s last comment. “No, I shouldn’t have pushed you to let him buy you a drink. I’m so sorry. Forgive me?”
Angel sighs as if the effort of answering questions is too much. “Of course.”
Dougie enters with crackers and soda in hand, and Angel’s hand trembles as she reaches out to take it from him. The way she’s shaking, I think she might drop it. After she eats one and sips some of the soda, I take it from her, putting it on the end table.
“Are you sure you don’t want to call the cops?” I ask, because I don’t know how to help her. If we do call them, there’s a good chance I’d be spending the night in jail as soon as they see the guy’s face and my fist-prints on it, but I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes to help her heal, and I’ve heard it’s good for girls to confront their attackers. No clue if that’s true or not, but it sounds like it makes sense.
“I’m sure. Besides, you saved me before anything could really happen, and I’m already starting to feel better.”
It’s been a long night, and I want to strip her down, put her in a hot bath, and then hold her all night long. “Dougie, can you make sure Chelsea gets home? I doubt that guy hung around, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Of course.”
Dougie and Chelsea say their goodbyes, and then Angel and I are left alone with the weight of what almost happened between us. She ran away from Nick without confronting him—not that I blame her; I think she did the right thing. Now she doesn’t want to press charges on this guy, which is just another form of running. I can’t help being afraid that all the progress we’ve made will be undone tonight as she realizes how close of a call she had. I’m not sure if my heart can take it if she runs from me, too.
“Will you stay here with me one more day? After this… I don’t think I can stand having you almost an hour away. I need you close for at least one more day.”
Twenty Eight
Angel
Arion is waiting for my answer, and I keep my head tucked against his chest while I think. The truth is, this is not at all how I expected our last night together to go, and I wouldn’t mind a do-over. It’s a shame we don’t get extra lives in real life, because I could definitely use one. “Okay.”
I try not to let his breath of relief worry me. Part of me is tempted to stress that one more day part, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, but I just don’t have the energy to risk an argument. It will have to wait.
“How about I run you a steaming bath, and you can soak. I’ll even wash your back.”
Before my disastrous trip downstairs tonight, I’d been trying to think of ways to move our relationship into the territory of ‘more.’ Maybe, despite my nerves, part of tonight can be salvaged. “From in the tub with me?” I lift my head so I can look at him to judge his reaction.
His Adam’s apple bobs for a moment, then he slowly tilts his head down to meet my gaze. “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
My smile is my answer, and he hands me the plastic cup of ginger ale. “Drink a little more, if you can.”
I take a small, cool sip as he heads into the bathroom. It’s amazing how much better I feel now compared to when Dougie brought me upstairs. The fog is still there, at the corner of my mind, but it’s rapidly clearing.
Tears well in my eyes at the thought of it. I was so stupid. I—of all people—know better. I know the dangers more than most. If Arion hadn’t been there…
“Hey. Don’t cry.” Arion comes out of the bathroom and kneels on the floor in front of the couch, taking my hand in his. I set my glass back on the end table then softly stroke his face. His cheek is slightly rough, with just a bit of stubble. He leans into my touch and lets out a soft sigh. I squeeze his hand in mine, wanting to give him a sign that I’m all right, and he winces but doesn’t draw his hand away.
Bruises are forming on his knuckles, and dried blood is smeared on his palm and there are even a few drops splashed on his wrists. “You did this because of me,” I whisper.
Arion’s hazel eyes are so deep and dark, I could fall into them and be lost forever as he says, “No Angel, I did this for you. I will protect you, always.”
I trap the sob that’s trying to fight free in my throat and rise unsteadily to my feet. “You’re definitely getting in that bath with me.”
It’s only when we reach the bathroom that I realize that, for him to get in with me, we both have to be naked together. I have no qualms about seeing Arion. I’ve seen enough of him to eagerly await the chance to see all of him. But I’m not as confident about him seeing all of me.
Heavy moist air, tinted with the lightest hint of something flowery and feminine,
wafts around us, rising from the steamy water gushing from the tap. The blood rushing through my ears is nearly as loud as the water, and I take a deep inhale, letting the mist attempt to soothe me.
“Are you sure about this?” Arion asks, and that husky rasp I love has found its way into his voice. The sound is rough and raw and weaves through me, leaving me tender and aching, craving him like a beggar craves a fire on a cold night. He is my salvation.
“Yes,” I whisper breathlessly. And I am. Almost.
“First, we need to go over the rules.” His hands lightly cup my shoulders, keeping me at arm’s length.
Wait. What? “Rules?”
“Yes, Angel. The rules. You know I always play by the rules.”
“What are the rules then?” I’m still trying to decide if I want there to be rules, and if I want to let him set them.
“I am not going to have sex with you. Not tonight. Our first time will not be like this.” He smiles down at me as he lets his hands trail sensually down my shoulders.
“Why?” I ask, even though part of me is relieved. I’m not sure I could handle that tonight, although the other part of me desperately wants to find out.
A growl radiates from Arion’s chest. “Because you didn’t have a choice with Nick.”
His name snaps into me like a flyswatter, annoying but effective at centering me back into reality. I cringe involuntarily, and the fog of yearning I’ve been floating in disappears. Now instead of trying to push toward Arion, I’m forcing myself not to pull back.
“And everyone deserves a chance to have their first time making that choice be magical, and special, and right. I can give you that, but not tonight.”
His words are a promise, one I can’t wait to hold him to. With one, sweet moment, he tugs me back into the realm of desire. I can do this with him. Maybe not right now, but I can. And I will. His eyes drink in my reaction.
I nod, trying not to think too much. “Are there other rules?”
His words are an undeniable command, with no room for dissent. “If you become uncomfortable at any time, you have to tell me. Immediately.”
“Okay.” I lean toward him, wanting to conquer the space between us.
“Promise?” He quirks an eyebrow as he cocks his head to the side.
“Yes,” I vow, impatient. With every word, he’s given me the confidence that being with him will be nothing like I’ve ever experienced before, and I want it. Now.
Arion slides his hand under my dress and peels it slowly upward. At the start of tonight, I thought this dress was beautiful. Now I just want to throw it away so I don’t ever have to look at it again.
I shiver, but not from the cold, as Arion drops the dress in a puddle of fabric at my feet.
“You’re beautiful,” he says as he starts to slide my underwear down my legs. I know he can see all of me, but the breathy tone in his voice tells me just how much he likes what he sees so I don’t feel as nervous as I did a few minutes ago.
When he's stripped the clothes from me, like plucking the petals from a rose; all that's left is my heart. I've never felt more exposed. No one admires the center of a flower, it's the petals that matter. But the way Arion is caressing my skin, I even feel beautiful.
Another shiver rakes its way through me. The way it makes me feel as his hands glide along my thigh are nothing like the way it felt when Slimy Guy gripped them, and all thoughts of tonight begin to recede from my mind.
“If you start to feel afraid, I want you to remember one thing.”
I can hear his voice, but I’m sinking in a whirlpool of sensations that make it hard to focus on his words or speak. “What’s that?” My shoulders heave as I let out a long, contented sigh. My hips are gravitating toward him of their own accord, but I have no inclination to halt them.
“You have all of the control. All you have to do is say the word, and I will stop whatever we’re doing. That goes for tonight and every night.”
Emotion floods through me, and tears spill over. Arion is so good to me. I have no idea what I did to deserve him. I tense briefly as he lifts me to help me into the tub.
“Lean back,” he says as he begins to take off his shirt. “I want you to lay there and relax while I strip for you.”
With his shirt out of the way, I can stare openly at his washboard abs and the perfect, chiseled shape of his hips. He undoes the snap on his jeans, and I feel heat throbbing between my legs that has nothing to do with the luxuriously warm water.
He slides one finger under his waist band and tugs then stops.
I groan in aggravation, disappointed and excited all at once. My eyes are hungry for the rest of him.
A satisfied smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes.
I’m so eager for him, and I don’t care that he knows it. Not much, anyway. I can’t help gasping as he steps out of his pants, leaving only his briefs to contain the bulge that’s steadily rising. I spare a quick thought of amusement that he sleeps in boxers, but wears briefs, before my attention is captivated once again by him freeing himself of all clothing.
Arion stands before me, gloriously naked and not at all ashamed. Of course, with a body like his, I can’t imagine why he would ever be.
His tub is huge, and there is plenty of room for him to lower himself into the soothing water in front of me.
“I thought you were going to wash my back?” I’m pouting like a chastised child, not because I want his hands on my flushed skin, but because with his back toward me, I can’t see as much of him.
“I will, but first you can wash mine.”
The invitation to touch him sends a thrill through me that’s indescribably good. Arion pours silky purple bubble bath beneath the running faucet and the scent of lavender and vanilla wafts around us. My fingers tingle in anticipation as he turns off the water then scoots back. His outer thighs press firmly against my inner thighs, and it’s exquisite torture. He tosses me a bath poof, and I dunk it into the water above his leg then lift it over his neck, letting sudsy water drip over him in iridescent rivulets. His back is smooth and divinely sculpted, just like the rest of him.
Arion tilts his head down, releasing a soft moan that nearly makes me come undone. I want to make him moan like that over and over. Abandoning the poof, I scoop up a handful of suds and spread them over his broad, tanned back. He doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him and toned muscles flex beneath his skin as he leans into my touch. Once I’ve covered him in soapy water, I begin to massage my fingers around his neck and shoulders, as if hoping to wash all of his tension away. Which I am.
I suddenly realize what Arion has done. I’m so focused on relaxing him that I’ve relaxed infinitely more than I would have if he’d just gotten into the tub and began to touch and bathe me. His touch makes me nervous despite how much I want it, but touching him is heaven. With him in front of me, I feel completely safe and in control, and I’m enjoying this more than any bath I’ve ever taken before.
Feeling bolder, my fingers spread around his ribs, and I’m essentially hugging myself to him as I wash his chest, still delighting in the soft sounds of contentment I’m eliciting from him.
“That feels so good, Angel.”
I grin. Score one for me. My fingers linger over his chest, lightly raking through his sparse chest hair. His body is incredibly smooth with hardly any hair, just enough that he feels manly and perfect. Do I have the courage to wash lower? I steady myself with a deep breath and start massaging his thighs.
My fingers inch inward.
“Angel,” his warning is a plea and protest all at once. He shudders as my fingers graze against his length. “Not tonight.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” Insecurity seeps over me.
“Oh, God, baby, I do. I really, really, do. But I’m not confident how much I can control myself if you do that, and tonight is not the right night.”
His words soothe me as I realize he isn’t rejecting me, he’s protecting me. Walls are collapsing
inward with the enormity of everything I’m feeling, and I’m afraid I’m about to fall apart. I’m confronted with the very stark realization of how much Arion has come to mean to me again and just how much he could hurt me.
“My turn, I think.” Arion stands up, then turns to face me, and I gasp. He’s so hard and right at my eye level, and if I lean forward a little bit, I could take him between my lips. I’ve never done that to a guy before. Nick’s always disgusted me. If he’d tried to make me do that, I would have bit him.
Before he can talk me out of it, I scoot up and plunge my lips around him. I’m not sure if his gasp is shock or pleasure.
“Fuck, Angel!” Then he moans again, and I know it’s pleasure. “The rules, the rules, the rules,” he repeats so fast the words blur together.
I pull back and look up at him. “You said we weren’t going to have sex tonight. I’m not breaking that rule. You didn’t say anything about me not sucking your dick.”
I take him into my mouth again without giving him a chance to respond. He’s fully hard, but softer than I expected. My lips are able to press in just slightly, and I like it. I can feel his vein pulsing as my tongue glides over it. My lips stroke up and down, up and down, and his chest heaves each time I near the tip.
Arion braces one of his hands against the wall behind the tub, and the fingers of his other hand wind into my hair.
A bolt of terror arcs through me, and I release him. “No.”
His hand disappears immediately, and I can’t look at him, afraid I’ll see disappointment or hurt in his eyes. “I need you to not touch me while I do this,” I beg as I lean forward, drawing him back in with my mouth.
“Okay,” he whispers.
I hadn’t expected the fear, since I haven’t done this before. I thought it would be a safe first for us, but the moment I felt him on the back of my head, it was like my barrier against Nick slipped and it was all too easy to imagine Arion not letting me pull my mouth away if I wanted. I know he wouldn’t, logically, but the fear is there.