Heaven's Most Wanted

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Heaven's Most Wanted Page 2

by J. A. Cipriano


  I hadn't been in a limo since... well ever. Sleek black leather seats covered every wall but the doors and a black box. When Andre opened it and pulled out a bottle of water, I about had a heart attack. The limo was big enough to freaking live in and had a mini-fridge to boot.

  Okay, so it didn’t have a toilet, but I could pee outside. Not like I haven’t done it before.

  Before I could reminisce more about my outdoor adventures, I took the water from him and leaned back in my seat. "So, your job?"

  Andre sat beside me, not so far away that it was weird but close enough that I could feel his body heat. "Well, it's a bit hard to explain. It's certainly nothing as exciting at solving crimes or being a psychic."

  “It’s not that exciting, though I do like being my own boss.” For the most part, I giggled to myself thinking about my demanding angels and took a drink from the water bottle as my eyes shifted to the window. The limo had started to move, and the world passed by at a glacial pace. Traffic in this part of town was brutal, I'd be surprised if we made it anywhere within the hour. Good thing I had the rest of the day clear.

  Andre’s eyes crinkled at the corners, clearly amused by my answer before he continued to explain. "I own several clothing franchises which requires me to vet out the next big thing. It's all very drab when you think about it. Lots of numbers and calculations. I have to factor in the risks and rewards of taking on a new line. However, it has made me quite rich, so I can hardly complain."

  He said it all so nonchalantly that it was a bit hard to believe. However, I wasn’t the type to have more than a few dimes to rub together, so maybe once you have so much money you don’t know what to do with, it becomes obsolete. I certainly wouldn’t mind it.

  I hummed to show him I was interested and tilted my lips up slightly. So, he was in the billionaire range. At least, I didn't have to worry about him not being able to foot the bill. I took another drink of my water and was about to ask him another question when a large blonde Adonis appeared on the other side of the limo, one long leg crossed over the other an annoyed look in his hyper-observant gaze.

  Water caught in my throat and I covered my mouth, coughing repeatedly.

  It was Michael.

  "Are you alright?" Andre asked as he came over to me, his large hand patting my back.

  I waved him off, my eyes watering and lungs burning. "Yes. Sorry. Wrong pipe."

  Forcing my eyes to stay on Andre even though I could see Michael out of the corner of my eye, I asked, "So, picking clothes? That sounds interesting. I have a hard enough time figuring out what I like, let alone what the rest of the world wants."

  Michael snorted and shook his head slightly. Pieces of his hair fell over his eyes, eyes that smoldered with dominance and impatience. He wanted me to pay attention to him.

  Well, he would just have to wait.

  Concern still on his face, Andre gave me a short nod. "It can be challenging. However..." His voice trailed off for a moment, the corner of his lip quirking up. "I don't think hot pink thongs will ever go out of style.”

  Flushing deeply, I ducked my head and turned my face away from him. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about that."

  I could see Michael's brows shoot up to his hairline, his blue eyes quizzical. His eyes on me made me shift in my seat, and I felt like I should explain what Andre was talking about, but the billionaire beat me to it.

  “Was that man your... boyfriend?” The subtlety to the way he asked almost made me smile, but then I reminded myself this one was for Mandy. I had enough dicks on my hands already... figuratively speaking... and one of them was already there staring holes into Andre like the angel wanted to smite the man on the spot.

  I gave Michael a warning look before I glanced back to Andre. “Uh, yeah. Gabriel. I guess you could call him my boyfriend.”

  Michael made an amused sound, and I resisted the urge to look at him. I couldn’t talk to invisible angels in front of clients. It tended to put a damper on their confidence in me.

  “He seemed very protective of you,” Andre continued, not knowing we had an eavesdropper. His brows crinkled and his head jerked slightly. “And bold. Was he aware he was only half dressed when he left?”

  I laughed and waved a hand in the air. “Oh, yeah. That’s Gabriel. He’s a bit of a free spirit. One of those guys who’d rather feel the ground beneath his feet.”

  Andre nodded as if he understood. If only he knew.

  Letting out a relieved breath, I chanced a peek at Michael. Dressed in a dark blue sweater with a white strip across the chest, he had one long leg crossed over the other. His black slacks inched up at the ankle, showing he had once again decided to forgo socks with his loathers.

  Speaking of a weird fashion sense.

  “You let this human see your underwear?” Michael asked. His voice filled the limo to make it substantially smaller.

  Staring him down, I didn’t answer him. He knew I couldn’t... or wouldn’t, anyway. Thankfully, I didn’t have to pretend not to see or hear him for very long before the limo stopped, and the door opened on Andre’s side first.

  As soon as he was out, I shot my eyes to Michael and muttered, “Ask Gabriel. I’m working.”

  “I can see that.” The condescending tone in Michael’s voice really grated my nerves.

  I flipped him off and climbed out of the car, taking the hand Andre offered me. We walked across the parking lot of the large building they used for basketball games and concerts. I actually remembered seeing some kind of advertisement for this contest now that we were here. When we entered the building, Michael appeared next to us, not at all deterred by my rude gesture.

  “I already spoke to Gabriel,” he intoned seriously. “He had other business to attend to and asked me to take his place since your new client made your arousal spike and you are currently pantiless.”

  I made a strangled sound in my throat which caused Andre to give me a concerned look. “Uh, do you have a bathroom?”

  “Oh, yes. Down there to the right.” Andre pointed to one side of the entrance area. “I’ll wait for you.”

  Nodding, I quickly made my way to the bathroom with Michael hot on my heels.

  Once inside the bathroom, I checked the stalls and thankfully found them empty. Spinning around, I locked the door and then pointed an accusatory finger at Michael.

  “What the hell?” I whispered harshly. “I'm with a client. Don't bring up personal shit while I’m not somewhere I can talk to you about it. Even more so when you are in-fucking-visible!”

  Michael's eyes narrowed, and the air in the bathroom thickened. He never did tell me how he did that. The archangel was incorporeal for the most part but could still affect the air around him. So much so that when he got upset, he could shake the whole building.

  Hoping I wasn't about to have to listen to the Hand of God have a hissy fit, I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot. “Well, out with it. We're alone now.”

  Marching over to where I stood, Michael came so close that had he been corporeal I'd have been able to feel his breath on my face. “You forget yourself, Jane. We are doing everything in our power to keep you safe and away from those who would take advantage of your delightful nuisances. Uriel is throwing a fit all over heaven because we even come down here to see you, and yet here you are, complaining because I’m doing my job.”

  “So, I’m just a job to you?” I couldn't help the hurt in my voice. I know, I know. I'm a fucking hypocrite. I bitch that he's here and then bitch because he's not here for the right reasons.

  Michael's face softened. “Of course not. You know that, and you also know that while the others and I willingly share you with each other. That doesn't mean we want to share you with that human man.”

  My heart melted a bit. Big tough warrior angel was jealous. If I didn't know it would hurt his fragile ego, I’d poke fun at Michael right now. Instead, I went for denial.

  Hands on my hips, I tossed my head in a dramatic huff. “What makes you think I wa
nt to have sex with Andre?”

  Cocking a knowing brow at me, Michael's fingers moved along the front of my body which caused it to buzz pleasantly. “Besides the obvious sting of your arousal, Gabriel said you were... what was that word he called it?” He glanced to the side for a moment, his fingertips stilling before they touched my more aware spots. With a grunt and a steely gaze, Michael growled, “... drooling.”

  I scoffed. “Uh. No. I was not drooling. So, Andre is... he's relatively attractive,” I ended lamely, then quickly added, “But I was not drooling.”

  Eyes still locked on mine, Michael withdrew a familiar pair of panties. Geez, those were getting around. “So, you didn't allow that human to touch these? Or leave with him while bare beneath that skirt?”

  “Not on purpose and...” I frowned and then made a grab for the panties my hand falling through the material. “Just give them back.”

  This time Michael's lips curled into a wicked grin. “Give me your blood, and I’d be happy to.”

  Normally, I’d be all over that. A little cut, Michael gets to be solid for an incalculable amount of time. Today, though, I knew if I gave him the chance to touch me, he'd make me pay. He wasn't the right hand of God for nothing.

  Michael liked being in control. He also liked a bit of pain with his pleasure, even more so if he were doing it somewhere I wouldn't normally allow it. The bathroom of a public building with a client waiting for me just outside the door? Oh, yeah. It was right up his alley.

  I glanced between the panties and the angel and debated on whether it was worth it.

  I'd gone commando before. It wasn’t something new to me, but the dare in Michael's eyes annoyed me. Like he knew I wouldn't do it and it pleased him to no uncertain measure to know he had me at his mercy.

  Well, we'd have to see about that.

  “Fine,” I snipped, pulling the safety pin from the bottom of my shirt I kept for occasions like this. Unhooking the sharp end, I pricked my finger with barely a wince, I was so used to it. I should just invest in some diabetic finger pokers. Probably way more sterile.

  The blood had just touched the surface when Michael's head dipped. His mouth wrapped around my finger, and the buzzing turned into the feeling of his warm wet mouth sucking on my finger. I'd be lying if every slide of his tongue, every tug of his mouth against my digit didn't zip straight to my groin.

  Fuck me.

  Michael's hand latched onto my wrist, and he backed me up until I was pressed against the sink. His long lashes flipped up, those blue eyes stormy and full of promises that made me shiver. His mouth gave my finger one more long tug before he released it.

  My breathing came faster now. All thoughts of why I’d been arguing with him out the door ended as he picked me up and sat me on the counter. His mouth clashed with mine, and my arm around his neck pulled him closer, my legs wrapping around his waist. I sighed into his mouth and let myself forget everything but him.

  We rarely got these moments anymore. Half the time before we were even able to get anything started, one or all the guys were called away for something which was why I when I had the chance, I had taken advantage of Gabriel at the office.

  A woman had needs, God damn it.

  Thinking of earlier made me realize I’d forgotten about my panties still in Michael's hand, now very much corporeal.

  Withdrawing my mouth with much reluctance, I gasped, “Michael. I have a client waiting.”

  He ignored me. His hand cupped my face, then arched my neck so he could trail his mouth down the length of it. For a moment, I forgot what I was saying as his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot behind my ear. Then my eyes landed on the pink material in the hand touching my face.

  I reached for it.

  Then the hand was gone.

  No longer touching my face, I had only a second to wonder where it went before I cried out. Michael's thumb pressed down on my clit, rubbing it in little circles. It felt different though, as if something was between his hand and my skin.

  My eyes snapped open as they locked onto Michael's smirking face. “You're going to... ah... stop that.”

  “You know that's not how this works, Jane.” Michael rumbled against me, his lips nipping at my ear as his hand drove me to the brink of insanity.

  I could have made him stop. He would have if I had really meant it. We both knew I didn't though, or I'd have pushed him away. Instead of worrying that my client was waiting just outside or that we were in a public restroom, I spread my legs wider for him allowing him to take exactly what he wanted, what both of us wanted.

  Of course, like the bastard he was, the moment I gave in, Michael stopped. Before I could say, “Bob's your uncle,” my panties were back on and Michael was three feet away from me, unlocking the door and ducking out.

  I gaped at where he had once stood, not quite believing what had just happened. Then after a second, I scrunched my face up and dropped from the counter to adjust my ruffled clothing. “That son of a bitch.”

  “Miss Mehr?”

  Startled by Andre's voice, I cleared my throat and smoothed one more hand down my hair before pulling the bathroom door open. I wasn’t sure how much more my poor body could take of this torture. My hair was certainly suffering.

  Still throbbing and wet from Michael's ministrations, I offered Andre an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”

  “Not a problem,” Andre answered. “I stepped away for a moment to answer a question and thought I might have missed you.”

  “Nope. I’m right here.” On the fucking edge because my angel boyfriend wouldn't let me cum, who was also conveniently missing in action. Where the hell did he go?

  “Well, then shall we?” Andre waved a hand toward the entrance. As we walked into the massive center, Andre continued to tell me about the theft. “So, as you can see the area is pretty open. There isn’t much security right now because the convention has started yet. There is just the guard who checks for your badge.”

  I hadn’t noticed that guard when we were on the way in but then again, my concerns were on the looming archangel. I quickly scanned the room looking for that Viking-sized angel but couldn’t see him in the throngs of gorgeous models running to and fro as they got fitted and prodded for the contest.

  There were booths set up for each designer where they had curtains around the majority of their areas but had a few pieces sitting out on their table. No doubt the designers wanted to hide from the competition but still wanted to shove their talent in their faces.

  “Where did you keep the trophy?” I asked, keeping my voice low so as to not bring attention to us. If Andre didn’t want the police involved because of the press, then he definitely didn’t want the contestants to know.

  “This way.” Andre placed a hand on my lower back quite a bit lower than what was polite. He directed me toward a set of offices. Before we left the main area, Michael, surprise, surprise, popped out of nowhere and headed us off. Andre jerked to a stop, confusion marring his face but then noticed Michael staring at me. “Another boyfriend of yours?”

  I offered him an apologetic smile. “Something like that. I asked Michael to meet me here. He helps with the psychic process.”

  Andre hummed. I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but he didn’t press. Instead, he dropped his hand from my back and took a step away. At least, he wasn’t stupid. “The safe is in here.”

  Behind Andre’s back, Michael’s lip ticked up at one side, and one of his perfect brows arched. I glared at him and pinched his thick muscular arm.

  “Was that supposed to hurt?” he asked.

  “I’m going to show you pain when I get home,” I muttered under my breath so low only he could hear with his heightened senses. “You’re going to feel my foot so far up your ass, you’ll be begging to get me—”

  “Did you say something?” Andre turned from the door where he had just unlocked it.

  Lacing my fingers behind my back, I beamed at him. “Just thinking out loud. Don’t mind m
e.”

  “Alright,” Andre drew out and then ushered us inside.

  Michael and I entered the office behind him. I could already see Michael searching the room for clues as Andre pointed out the safe. One of Michael’s specialties was being hyper-aware of everything. He could find a needle in a haystack from a mile away. It made finding details humans otherwise wouldn’t notice far easier.

  “This is the Mortenson 5000.” Andre stopped next to the safe and tapped a hand on top of it with a proud gleam in his eyes.

  I watched him nodding as if I knew what the hell he was talking about, but to me, it was a safe. Black and big as the mini fridge in the limo, it stood on a table in the back of the office where anyone could see it. That’s about the most I knew about safes, so not much really.

  Andre put in the code and opened the door, showing the empty inside. “We keep the trophy here. Or we did. Now, it’s just for looks.” He sighed, a pained expression on his face. “This was supposed to be uncrackable. For the pretty penny I spent on it, I’d hoped for at least some kind of dynamite needed to open it without the code.”

  He shrugged, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Alas, it is what it is.” He turned those sad eyes toward me, a pleading expression on his face. “Please tell me you can find it. I don’t have time to commission another one before the event starts.”

  It wasn’t even about the money it cost. Just that he didn’t have time to make a new one. Well, at least, that was something I could check off my list. He didn’t steal his own trophy to get the insurance money from it, and they always had insurance on things like this.

  Giving him a sympathetic smile, I moved toward him, prepared to reassure him, but Michael stepped in front of me. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to use his size to intimidate Andre. Unfortunately for him, Andre wasn’t easily intimidated. Though two inches shorter than Michael, he didn’t let having to look up at the Archangel bother him.

  “Trust us, we will find your trophy. Then you can go back to your little contest.” Michael’s usual condescension filled his voice, and I feared he was going to get me fired before I even got my retainer fee.

 

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