Heaven's Most Wanted
Her Angels, Volume 3
Erin Bedford
Published by Embrace the Fantasy Publishing, LLC, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
HEAVEN'S MOST WANTED
First edition. March 12, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Erin Bedford.
Written by Erin Bedford.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
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Chapter 1
"ARE YOU SURE THIS IS what whipped cream is meant for?" Gabriel asked, holding the spray can in his hand.
We were in the back room of the Gotcha! Offices where we'd been taking our lunch break. And by lunch, I meant that I was showing Gabriel that food was not just for eating but also for other recreational needs. We'd already gone through the chocolate sauce which I had happily lapped off Gabriel's very lickable abs. Now it was onto the whipped cream. I only regret not having cherries to top it all off.
I propped myself up on the table by my elbows and nodded. "Oh, yeah," my voice came out raspy, a bit breathless from my last orgasm, and I took a moment to swallow and lick my lips. "Definitely."
"It doesn't say so on the can." Gabriel's green eyes sparkled as he shook the can at me. It really wasn't fair. Sure, he was an angel, but guys just shouldn't look that good. His light brown hair fell over his eyes, and trust me, it felt a good as it looked. Pair that with dimples that made my knees weak, and that mouth... God, that mouth. Lucifer gave the best oral, but I had to admit Gabriel was quickly becoming neck and neck with the devil.
I returned his lopsided smile with a quirk of my brow. "Sure, it does. Right there on the side." I gestured with my head toward the can as I grabbed the washcloth off the table where I was laid out, naked from the waist down.
Gabriel snorted, his eyes on the can's label. "You mean the part that says, 'Refrigerate after opening?'"
Hopping off the table, I snatched the can out of his hand and shoved it back into the mini fridge. "Yeah, after opening. Nowhere does it say what it has to be used for." I turned back around only to find myself caged between the counter and Gabriel's massive arms. Tipping my head back, I grinned up at him. "My ass is getting cold."
"Well, let me remedy that for you." Gabriel's hands slid down to my ass, cupping each cheek and pulling me close. Just when I thought I might be getting another orgasm before one o'clock, the chime on the front door went off.
"Ignore him," Gabriel muttered as his fingers dipped between my thighs to play with my folds.
My knees stuttered and a small moan escaped from my closed lips. I gasped, my head falling back his fingertip circled my clit. Rocking against his hand, my fingers curled around his biceps, but I neither pushed away nor pulled him closer as he thoroughly distracted me from whoever was waiting on the other side of the thin wall.
I felt more than saw the quirk of Gabriel’s lips against the side of my face when I parted my legs further for him. My fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants, desperate to touch him the way he was touching me, and I almost had him when a masculine voice called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
My hand stilled. Eyes fluttering open, I licked my lips and took in a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Gabriel wasn’t having any of it though. He pressed himself into my hand trying to bring me back to the moment.
Pulling back, I frowned at Gabriel. "Did you see him coming?"
Avoiding my gaze, Gabriel flicked my clit with his thumb which made me gasp before he scowled. That answered that question. He had. For an angel, sometimes he was low down rotten, especially when it came to me.
However, as much as I wanted to continue our competition to see who could make the other cum more, I had a job to do. I couldn't let my good name go in the dirt because I was too busy playing hide the pickle.
"Hello?" the voice called out once more even closer now.
"Hold on a moment," I called back, giving Gabriel a look before pushing him back from me. I grabbed my discarded skirt, pulled it back on, then shoved my feet into my flip flops before spinning around on the smirking angel. "Where're my panties?"
Giving me a cocky grin, Gabriel leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his bare chest he had yet to cover. "I don't know. Maybe you left them..."
"Uh, madam?" the voice from before rose with a bit of laughter in it. "I believe you might have lost something."
"Shit," I hissed under my breath, glaring at a far too amused Gabriel on my way out of the back room. My hands rushed to my head, smoothing and pulling as I tried to fix my hair which I was sure looked like a rat's nest had an orgy in it. When I was satisfied it was the best it was going to get, I put on my best professional smile and rounded the corner.
"Hello, welcome to Gotcha! I'm Jane, your resident psychic detective. How can I he... help... guh... you?" I gagged on my words as I caught sight of the boyishly handsome man holding my hot pink thong between his fingertips.
Standing at six foot two, he had loose blonde curls cut to brush his ears, big blue eyes, and a smile that would make even a straight man turn. He was like one of those naked baby cherubs you found on a cathedral’s ceiling, you know, if he had grown up into a massive hunk of man meat.
Damn.
"Are these yours?" He offered me the thong which was hanging by a string on his fingertip.
"Uh..." I trailed off, half mortified and half stunned by the man in front of me. I was jolted out of my brain fart when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.
Gabriel stood behind me, still shirtless, the show-off, and held a hand out to the stranger. "Thanks, I'll take those." The arrogance in his voice was unusual for the usually carefree archangel. I gaped up at him as the stranger tossed him my panties with an arched brow. Gabriel caught them and tucked them into his pocket before leaning over and kissing me on the side of the head. "I've got to go, see you later."
Still barefoot and shirtless, Gabriel marched out of the office with a bit more swagger than usual in his step. I blinked, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. What the hell had just happened? And where the hell did Gabriel think he was going like that?
The archangel couldn’t be corporeal without me, well, my blood more specifically, so him having anywhere to be while he had a good hour or so before he faded out of everyone’s view but my own was a mystery. Not to mention he was still half dressed. A part of me wanted to chase him down and make him put some damn clothes on. He was mine to ogle, God damn it. I put a lot of miles into that angel, and I wasn’t about to let some Botox-injected floozy on the strip where my shop sat fondle what was mine.
While I was having a good little hissy fit, the stranger cleared his throat, and I clamped my mouth shut. Giving my head a bit of a shake, I turned back to the gorgeous man. "I'm sorry about that, how can I help you?"
His lips curling into an amused grin, the man, who I now noticed was dressed in an expensive three-piece suit, offered me his hand. Rolex, nice. "Let's start over. I am Andre Belmont. And you are...?"<
br />
God, even his name was sexy. Andre Belmont. I bet it felt good to say out loud. It just screamed mouth orgasm. Maybe Mandy could use a pick me up? I hadn’t seen my bestie with anyone recently. I’d have shamelessly flirted with him if I wasn’t already involved with three angels. Three very possessive and domineering angels who would eat a guy like him for breakfast. Wait, did angels eat breakfast in heaven? I’d have to ask them.
Nutritional needs aside, I couldn’t have the man in front of me, so I might as well give him to my bestie. Besides, who could outdo an angel? That's right. No one.
Putting the thought away for later, I held out my hand. "Jane Mehr. A pleasure to meet you."
To my surprise, he didn't shake my hand but turned it over and brushed his warm lips across the top of my knuckles. "The pleasure is mine, of course."
Taking my hand back with a nervous chuckle, I resisted the urge to wipe it off where the tingles still lingered. He’s for Mandy. For Mandy.
"Uh, so." I clapped my hands together, fidgeting in place. "What can I help you with? Lost dog? Cheating spouse? Perhaps, a missing item of substantial value?"
His baby blue eyes widened slightly. "You really are as good as they say. I have recently lost a trophy made of pure solid gold. It's supposed to be awarded to the winner of my contest next week."
Ha. One point to Jane. I didn't even need the angels for this one, though naming off all the normal things rich people come to see me for hardly counted as being psychic. This guy was just easy to please it seemed.
Hopefully, the case would be just as easy to solve.
I hummed and moved over to my desk, pulling out a note pad to take notes. Gesturing a hand toward the chair in front of me, I said, "Take a seat."
Andre, God, that name, crossed over to my desk in two long strides and sat down as if he were liquid in human form, pouring himself into the seat. Lucifer would be jealous of this guy’s suaveness.
"So, how about we start at the beginning?" I told him, staring down at my paper so as not to stare at him too long. "You say you lost a golden trophy? And by lost, you mean stolen?"
It wasn’t a hard leap. No one just loses a trophy. Well, okay, so I have been known to lose things like that all the time, but normal people? Not likely. Hence someone had to have stolen it. Besides, why would they come to me if they had accidentally left it in their canary yellow Ferrari?
Andre shifted in his seat, his eyes darting around the room as he cleared his throat. He clearly did not like the subject I had brought up. "Yes, stolen. We keep it in a safe. It was there last Friday, but now, it's gone."
Okay. We had a timeline. Between Friday and today, Monday, their golden trophy was in a safe. Approximate time it was stolen? Within 72 hours.
"And why haven't you filed this with the police?" I looked up from my paper and focused on his nose. That was safe, right? It was just a nose. A perfectly shaped nose. One that would feel like Heaven sliding down my...
"Miss Mehr?"
Blinking rapidly, I placed my hands down on the counter and shook my head. "Sorry, I lost my focus for a moment." I gave him a silly grin accompanied by a nervous chuckle. "You know, visions. Never know when they are going to pop up." Fucking Christ, he’s for Mandy, not me. I should have let Gabriel finish me off before he left. All this left-over sexual tension was making my hormones go wacky.
Andre's perfectly pouty lips pressed together in half concern and the other half curiosity. "Do you have visions often?"
"Oh, yeah." I waved him off, crossing one leg over the other. My knee hit the underside of my desk, and I winced. I tried to save face by saying, "Happens all the time."
"And what did you see?" He leaned forward, his eyes intently focusing on me like was trying to see into my head. "Anything about my trophy?"
"Uh, no, not yet. Sorry. Sometimes the images are a bit fuzzy at first. I am getting something gold and shiny," I bullshitted to him as the eagerness in his eyes only grew. "Anyway, you were telling me why you didn't go to the police for this matter? Most don't come to me until they have no other options."
Andre sighed and rubbed a large hand over his face. "Police only complicate matters. If I tell the police, then it will be leaked to the press, and there would be a huge scandal. It would just ruin my reputation. No one would trust me to run the competition again."
That made sense. There were plenty of rich folks who came to me because they wanted to keep their issues on the down low. Like that pool boy who videotaped himself fucking the Mayor’s son, quite enthusiastically I might add. Hey, my job had to have some perks. While the free porn had been great, it had also been thrilling to hunt down the tape and all its copies as well as put the fear of God, or Archangel, into him so that he’d never do anything like it again.
God, I loved my job.
"So, what kind of competition do you run?" I moved my eyes over him, purely professionally, trying to decipher something to tip me off on what kind of work he does.
"Well, isn't it obvious?" Andre held his hands out to the side as if I should be able to tell from his body. Believe me, I was looking really hard. When I only stared at him, he huffed. "Fashion. I run a fashion competition. Hundreds of aspiring fashion designers from all over the country come and compete for the Belmont Award. It's been in my family for years. Except this year, I've blown it."
Fashion, huh? I would never have pegged it. I mean, he dressed nice enough, but I only knew enough about clothes to tell he liked expensive things. Sadly, his profession made me question if he would even like Mandy’s... equipment. He might bat for the other team.
Only one way to find out.
"Oh, don't think that way. I'm sure you did everything you could to keep the trophy safe," I cooed, placing a hand on the desk reaching toward him. I let my shirt tug down so that my cleavage was bare to his gaze. If he were gay, he wouldn’t look, right? "Things happen, but I'm sure I can help you get your trophy back without anyone being the wiser." I squeezed my arms against the sides of my breasts, really giving the girls a good push up.
And there it was. His eyes flicked down to my chest, and a slight heat slid across his gaze as his tongue darted out to wet his mouth. When his eyes moved back to mine, desire was clearly there in his dilated pupils. Bingo.
"Are you sure?" His voice took on a raspy, lower tone that made me wiggle in my seat. Mandy was a lucky girl, she just didn’t know it yet.
I stood and gave him a megawatt smile. "Positive."
He let out a large breath and placed a hand on his chest. "You don't know how much of a relief that is." Andre stood, his height towering over me.
I tried my eyes to stay north of the border, but I couldn’t help but notice the tent in his pants that had not been there before. Mandy was a very lucky girl. I dragged my eyes back to his face, forcing myself to pay attention to what he was saying.
"The trophy has been a hallmark of my family's legacy. I mean, besides the cash prize, a hundred thousand dollars."
My eyes bugged out of my head. A hundred thousand dollars? To design some clothes? I was not in the right industry.
Forcing my eyes back into my head, I offered him my best reassuring smile as I came around my desk. "Mr. Belmont, I will do my utmost to preserve your family’s legacy. You can count on me." I patted his chest without thinking.
"Call me Andre. And that's good. I'm happy to hear it." His eyes dipped down, the distance between us smaller than I had intended. If he got any closer, that python in his pants was going to be right up against me.
Putting a polite but closed off smile on my face, I took a step back from him and dropped my arm. "Uh, so this is my retainer fee, plus my hourly amount." I pushed my usual contract across the table. "Of course, I will need to be able to bill you for essentials, whatever I need to blend into your competition."
"Blend in?" He cocked his head to the side. "You can't figure out who did it from here?"
I laughed. "No, Andre. I'm good but not that good." I shifted some papers an
d didn't meet his eyes. "I'll need to mingle with your crew and the contestants, get a feel for their auras. See if I can pick up any lingering emotions or at least get a premonition, you know?"
"Ah, of course. Whatever you need." He took the contract and without reading it signed on the dotted line. "There, when can you start? Can you come now?"
My mind immediately went into the gutter. Stop it. Gabriel hadn't even been gone for half an hour, and already I wanted to jump the nearest guy. I was getting spoiled by all these hot guys giving me orgasms at the drop of a hat.
Glancing around for any of my usual company, I pushed a thought out. I need a little help here. Someone, anyone. Help. When no one appeared and it was getting awkward just sitting there, I gave up.
Grabbing my purse, I nodded towards the door. "I'm all yours."
Chapter 2
FOLLOWING ANDRE OUT of my office, I had a good feeling about this. I'd had an array of cases since I opened Gotcha! several weeks ago but none so exciting as this one.
A fashion designer contest. Man, Mandy was going to freak out when she heard. I held back a little squeal of delight. Be professional, Jane. Don't let the hot...
My thoughts trailed off as my eyes landed on two men standing across the street. Normally, random people standing around chitchatting wouldn’t bother me. However, these two were other worldly attractive and they were looking at me. They weren’t being very sneaky about it.
Angels. Great.
I knew they’d come for me eventually. It was only a matter of time. Uriel had given too many warnings to have them never show up.
Trying not to let them know, that I know they were watching me, I turned my attention back to the man with me and his... limo waiting for us. Fucking hell.
"What is it you do again, Mr. Belmont?" I casually asked, my head tilting to the side to get a better look at him.
"Please, Andre." He reminded me again as he let the chauffeur open the door for us. We both slid inside the limo, and I almost peed my pants in excitement.
Heaven's Most Wanted Page 1