Fallen Angel (Paranormal Romance)

by Selina Coffey

  “Keep that pop-psychology bull to yourself and tell me who she is,” I shouted, my voice shaking in fury.

  “Bree---”

  “Who is she, goddamit?!” I said now screaming at him so loudly that my throat hurt. I got up from the table, unable to stay seated, too angry and aggravated to sit with my hands folded and pretend to be the perfect wife. I had done that for years. I had been exactly what he asked me to be. And this was my reward?

  As he gave me a look of pity, he straightened his shoulders and walked away from me. I didn’t say a word. I was too focused on thinking of the past as I watched Tommy walk away with my future. I had met Tommy when I worked as a cashier at a local grocery store and he was a manager. I had been on my own for a while since I was no longer a ward of the state having grown up bouncing from one foster care to another. So needless to say, I had been flattered by his undivided attention. He was older and I had found him to be charming and handsome. I felt he was out of my league and was surprised when he pursued me. He had been romantic, attentive and as he moved up in the company going from assistant manager, to district and then regional manager, his salary had increased and so had his sense of entitlement. I had struggled to keep up with all the lifestyle changes: the fancy cars, the fancier friends. But, I had thought, I had managed pretty well. But as he walked out of the door, I realized that I was wrong. Apparently I had failed. And now my husband was walking out of the door and out of my life. I was alone again.

  Chapter One

  “You sure you don’t mind being here tonight?” My best friend, Jacinda, had to yell over the boom of the music as we tried to find our way to the VIP room. Jacinda was wearing a crown that seemed to be in the shape of a phallic symbol and I tried my best not to stare at it. I was attending her bachelorette party and was wearing a glow-in-the-dark necklace that had a charm hanging from it that resembled a dildo. All the jewelry, and I use that word loosely, was purchased by Jacinda and was deliberately tacky. She felt it was a requirement: tacky and tasteless accessories or it wasn’t really a proper bachelorette party.

  “Of course I’m sure. Just because my ex is a cheating bastard doesn’t mean that Milton is,” I said referring to Jacinda’s soon to be husband. They’d known each other since college and frankly, I was just surprised that they hadn’t married earlier. I had met Jacinda when we had worked together at the grocery store. She had worked there part time to offset her college expenses. “Milton is hopelessly devoted to you. He’s the opposite of Tommy. In fact, I wish I had met Milton first.”

  Jacinda didn’t laugh at my poor attempt at humor, instead she studied me, concerned. “You’re taking the divorce pretty well considering...”

  “Considering that I was a blindly trusting, naive house wife whose husband screwed her over? Yep, I know.”

  “Actually, I was about to say considering that you just got divorced.”

  I shrugged. The divorce had been finalized pretty quickly. After Tommy left me, he had moved in with his mistress. He had moved on and clearly I needed to as well. He had dealt with the divorce in the same efficient manner as he dealt with everything else. He had contacted an attorney and we saw a mediator. I guess he had been concerned that I would ask him for alimony, but I wasn’t interested in living off of Tommy any more. In our divorce settlement he left me the house, hoping to makes things easier on me, he had said. I had surprised him by accepting the house and as soon as it was signed over to me, I had listed it for sale. I had no interest in staying in the home we had built together knowing that not only had he cheated, but he has also given me the house out of pity, stating that with my lack of skills it would be difficult for me to find work and he didn't want me homeless. I was done being his charity case and the sad part is that he actually thought he was being nice. It didn’t even occur to him that he was being condescending. I had surprised him more during the divorce proceedings than I had during the whole five years of our marriage. After six months, the divorce was final and I was a free woman. Part of me still hurt for the marriage I had thought I wanted. I felt as if he had stolen it from me and then I remind myself that our whole marriage was a sham and I needed to move on and stop dwelling on it. There were worst things than being alone.

  “Are you ready to party?”

  “Let’s do this.”

  Ten minutes later I wasn’t doing much of anything but feeling sorry for myself. No one had asked me to dance; no one even looked at me. It was like I was invisible. I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing tight black pants with a hot pink cropped top that also hung off the shoulders. I knew the look was very 80s, but I thought the 80s was in. I had thought that I looked reasonably hot, but maybe I didn’t know what hot was anymore. Figuring the necklace had something to do with why people were ignoring me, I subtly reached up, took it off and stuck it in my pocket.

  “Why are you pouting?” One of Jacinda’s college roommates asked me. They had shown up shortly after we had arrived. Now there were at least five of us. And apparently I was the only one evidently not having a good time.

  “No one wants to talk to me. No one’s asked me to dance.” I whined and Jacinda heard me despite the volume of the music. I thought she was too busy doing shots to really notice who wasn’t enjoying themselves.

  “Just get out there and have fun. And guys don’t ask girls to dance. That hasn’t been protocol in decades.”

  “Really? I feel old.”

  Jacinda sighed, “Ashley is having a great time and you guys are the same age. Look.” She gestured to our mutual friend who was standing next to a group of guys whispering into one of their ears, leaning her ample bosom in his direction suggestively. I turned to Jacinda and said “Are you kidding me? Ashley doesn’t count. As long as men are around she’s peachy. She could be in a retirement home flirting with eighty year olds with dentures for God’s sake and still have a great time.”

  “Bree, you’re a free woman. Have some fun. Maybe you need to try reckless abandonment. Your whole vibe reads uptight. Relax.” Jacinda said while downing another shot.

  “I don’t do reckless abandonment.” I said bitterly.

  “Well you should try. Here: Have a drink.” She pushed a shot towards me. I looked at it and then I made up my mind, picked it up and tossed it back. Jacinda’s eyes widened as I said, “Alright, let’s have another one.”

  We danced. I drank. (A bit too much, I might add, but I knew my limit.) The alcohol was going to my head and I needed to slow down. I was a lightweight.

  “I’m going out to get some air. Be right back, okay?” I called to Jacinda who just nodded in response. I slowly made my way downstairs, careful to hold on to the railing. When I got to the ground floor, I walked out the back exit doors and stood in the alley next to the entrance. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the feel of the night air against my skin.

  “Having fun?” I heard a voice say next to me, startling me into complete sobriety. I turned quickly in the direction the voice came from and saw a man standing there. His arms were crossed on his chest. He was wearing dark jeans, a tight fitting white t-shirt and a pair of boots. He was just under six feet, stocky with big arms and a wide chest. His chest from where I was standing looked hard, imposing even. Tommy had worked out religiously, but he didn’t look like this man. Far from it. As the stranger stepped from the shadows, I marveled at how thick his neck was, how his thighs were probably twice the size of my own and I studied his muscular forearms that sported a web of tattoos. He looked dangerous, but yet I wanted to touch him. I wanted to get close enough to trace the outline of his biceps that were clearly pressed against his shirt, biceps that were the size of my thighs. I wondered how those arms would feel wrapped around me and I wanted to know how my breasts would feel pressed against his chest.

  I shook my head, not knowing where those thoughts were coming from. Apparently, I’d had way too much to drink and my hormones were running away with me. Too many years in a passionless marriage, I thought sourly to myself.


  I looked him up and down, blatantly checking him out and said succinctly, “I thought I was alone.”

  “Not quite.”

  I continued to study him and he studied me. I saw his eyes linger on my exposed skin and when he looked away and back up at me, I saw a hint of lust there. So I was still sexy after all? I smiled a little to myself. Feeling emboldened I said, “Plan to head back inside soon? If so, can I get you a drink?”

  He looked surprised. “I thought as the guy, I should be asking you instead.”

  “It’s 2015. We women have to go after what we want.”

  He seemed amused as he considered my words, “And I have something you want?”

  “Maybe. We’ll see.” I wondered briefly what Tommy would think hearing me come on to a complete stranger.

  For a moment the stranger didn’t say a word and his lips tilted up in the corners as he appraised me. I guess he had been expecting a different conversation. I knew I looked innocent and sweet. I had the stereotypical angelic look with a heart shaped face, big green eyes, small nose and my hair was a flurry of inky black ringlets that grew past my shoulders. But tonight, upon seeing this man, I was suddenly feeling anything but angelic. I was interested in taking Jacinda’s advice. I was ready to do something reckless. And frankly, between the alcohol that made me feel brave and the feeling that everyone else in the world was having fun but me, I was interested in burying some of my frustration and stress the good old-fashioned way, in bad behavior and a few more drinks, accompanied by a very sexy man.

  “So what do you say?” I asked breaking the silence that was now stretching uncomfortably long.

  “I’ll take a beer.”

  “And after?” I left the question open-ended.

  “We’ll figure out the rest.” I was more than very interested in “the rest.”

  Chapter Two

  “You’re on. I’m Bree.” I said not offering my hand, but smiling at him in what I hoped was a seductive way.

  “Bree,” he said my name slowly as if tasting it on his tongue. “I’m Phoenix.”

  He followed me back inside the loud nightclub and I headed to the bar and ordered us a couple of beers. I added a little extra sway to my hips as I walked, hoping he would notice. I glanced subtly behind me as he followed me to an unoccupied corner. He was looking at my behind and I smiled a little to myself as I turned back around quickly not wanting him to know I had caught him checking me out. He joined me in the corner of the nightclub and we settled on a bench, overlooking the dance floor. Jacinda caught sight of me and winked. She was spinning around the dance floor with Ashley and a few other random guys, apparently the center of attention.

  “Friends of yours?” he asked bringing up one of his legs and placing his arm across his knee as he turned completely towards me.

  “Best friend in fact. The one wearing the crown is getting married tomorrow so we came out to celebrate.”

  “That explains why I haven’t seen you around before.”

  “I’m not exactly the clubbing type...”

  “What type are you then?”

  I shrugged thinking about it before I replied, “Hmm...the reading type.”

  He smiled brightly then and I realized that his smile was just as beautiful as the rest of him.

  “So what were you doing outside all on your lonesome?” I asked him, making idle conversation as I slid closer to him.

  “Honestly? Avoiding a girl I used to date. She’s a nutjob.”

  I giggled, actually giggled. The alcohol was going straight to my brain. “Is she actually crazy or is that something guys say about exes when the relationship ends badly?”

  “She’s nuts. Out of her mind, but I heard she was getting remarried. I figured she showed up here to show me her ring.”

  “And you responded by hiding?”

  He shrugged sheepishly, “You women are insane.”

  “Hard to believe a strong man like you is afraid of some woman.”

  “I fight for a living, but when my ex is involved I run the other way like a coward. I’m not ashamed to admit that.”

  I felt myself relaxing at his self-deprecating humor. “Tell me more about this fighting thing.”

  “Have you ever heard of MMA?”

  “Those people on the pay-per-view channel who beat each other into a bloody pulp? Not my idea of viewing pleasure. It’s worse than boxing,” I shuddered and took a drink from my beer.

  “Well, it’s how I earn a living.”

  I grimaced, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to criticize.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m not offended.”

  “So you’re a fighter? Is that what all your tattoos are about?” I said leaning over to study them as best as I could in the light.

  “Not really. I just wanted to look cool.”

  I looked at him sharply, knowing from his tone he was joking, “You’re not funny.”

  “Really? I’ve already made you laugh twice.”

  “It’s the beer. I’m normally not so easily amused.”

  “Then drink up. I’m about to become hilarious.”

  I couldn’t help but smile and as I took another sip and I trailed my hand up his arm, boldly tracing the length of one of his tattoos. I shifted to get a better view, but actually I wanted to get closer to him and I figured he knew it.

  “Do you have any tattoos anywhere else?” I asked, leaning in taking a cue from Ashley earlier, letting my breasts graze his arm.

  “Maybe. Do you want to find out?” Before I could respond, he brought his hand up and buried it into my hair and pulled my face to his, bringing his mouth down hard on mine. I eagerly responded, groaning as he roughly picked me up and settled me onto his lap. His mouth was warm across my lips and I didn’t realize until that moment how much my marriage had lacked in sexual chemistry. How much it had lacked that energy, that fire that the past few minutes with Phoenix had ignited.

  I wanted a little privacy before things became a bit too hot and heavy and I said so to him. He agreed and took my hand, pulling me towards the door. We didn’t make it that far, as he started kissing me against the wall of the alley where we had only just met minutes ago.

  He pushed me up against the wall, grabbed my behind in his big hands and brought my legs up so that they wrapped around his waist. My back was against the wall as he easily unbuttoned my pants and shoved his hand inside them, giving a dry chuckle when he realized that I wasn’t wearing any panties.

  “I hate underwear,” I said by way of explanation and he kissed me hard saying, “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  All talking ceased though as he pushed his fingers inside of me. I was already wet and I moaned as he fingered me, roughly handling me, thrusting his fingers into my wetness recklessly, clearly not really caring if it hurt or not. I liked that about our encounter. It was wild, free and untamed. There weren’t any rules and I wanted to keep it that way. I clawed at his back, already on the brink of orgasm, gasping as he started to play with my clit.

  “Have you ever been fucked in an alley before?” He said against my ear as he continued to penetrate me.

  “No,” I gasped and then he abruptly stopped, pulled his fingers out of my sex and dropped me to my feet.

  I looked at him confused.

  “Turn around.” I hesitantly did as he said and he pushed my pants down my hips, letting them fall around my ankles. I placed my hands against the brick wall of the alley and felt his hands between my legs, “Spread your legs wider. I’m going to fuck you.”

  My whole body shook at the crudeness of his language. It made me feel dirty and naughty as if I were doing something illicit and forbidden. I looked around not wanting to get caught, but the idea of getting caught actually was half the turn on.

  “Bend over,” he said hoarsely and I did.

  He grabbed me by my hips then and I could feel his sex, wet at the tip, poking at my own wetness. He slid just the tip of his penis in and I reacted instantly, pushing my
hips back towards him, wanting more.

  “You want my dick inside you, Bree?”

  “Yessss” I moaned, exaggerating the word as my sex clenched in anticipation of his own.

  “How much?” He said pushing himself in just a little more. I half groaned and half moaned in frustration and then pleasure.

  “All of it. Please, Phoenix. All of it.”

  “I like it when you beg. Say it again. Say please.”

  Readily I complied, wanting him to continue his exquisite torture, “Please, Phoenix.”

  “That’s a good girl.”

  And then he pushed his cock in and fucked me hard and rough in the alley. I grabbed at the stone wall, burying my nails in the ridges of the wall, trying to control the volume of my groans as he pushed into me. His dick was large and thick and he didn’t wait for my sex to conform to his size, he just forced it in to the point where pleasure and pain mixed.

  He let go of my hips and grabbed my ass, pulling my cheeks apart and caressing them, as his thrusts became even wilder. I came then as he trailed his fingers across my behind and started to stroke my clit.

  I felt my sex clench around his dick and he groaned as well, thrust a few more times and then came inside me, gasping as he too grabbed the wall to steady himself. Slowly when my breathing returned to normal, so did reality and I was painfully aware that I was bent over in an alley with my pants around my ankles having just been fucked by a stranger.

  That stranger was now helping me pull my pants back up and suddenly after our encounter, I was painfully embarrassed. I hadn’t had casual sex before in my life. Tommy had been the only man I’d been with. What was I thinking?

  I righted my clothes and said, “I have to go.” He looked confused and seemed about to speak, but I didn’t give him the opportunity. I walked away quickly, not looking back. He didn’t try to stop me. And as I disappeared through the doors, I was determined to forget that night and that man no matter how conflicted I felt that he had, without protest, just let me go.