by Deb Julienne
“Sounds good.” Angel took his shirt and went into the spare room.
When she returned, the container of ice cream and bowls filled with toppings were spread out on the coffee table.
“It was too windy on the balcony. Maybe we’ll have breakfast out there in the morning.” Travis gestured for her to have a seat on the couch.
“I like the way your mind works.” As she passed him, she pressed a hand to his shoulder before she sat down.
The sight of her in his shirt, leaning back on the love seat, feet tucked under her bottom, made him jealous of his shirt, the cotton caressing her legs, her upper thighs peaking from beneath.
“I changed my mind,” he said.
“Huh? About what?” She frowned.
“My favorite Keith Urban song.”
“Oh really. What’s is it now?” she asked.
“You look good in my shirt,” Travis sang, mimicking Keith’s accent.
She chuckled.
Unable to resist her raised brows and laughter, he dropped a kiss on her cheek before he popped the top of the bottle of Moscato and poured Angel a glass. He’d chosen espresso for himself. The hot, bitter brew countered the cold, creamy sweetness of the chocolate ice cream. Even the vanilla bean was sweeter, and the chunks of strawberry were pure ambrosia.
He’d laughed as Angel created a banana split worthy of any cooking channel show, heaping on the toppings, the nuts, bits of butter-brickle crumble, whipped cream, and cherries.
She relished every bite she took. He could tell by the way her tongue traced her lips, passing over her spoon. It was driving him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to be on the other end of a good tongue-lashing from her.
“I couldn’t eat another bite.” Angel took a long lick of the hot fudge clinging to her thumb.
His mouth went dry. He tried to swallow then grabbed for his demitasse cup to aid him. “Me either.” His gaze lingered on her lips as she licked the final bit of dessert away. That last single action was a straight shot to the groin.
Travis stacked the dirty dishes then moved the cart out of their way. He had to do something other than focus on her lips. He sat down beside Angel, topped off her glass then flipped on the television. “I’ll see if there’s anything good on.” The last thing he wanted was to watch television, but he was thinking about how skittish she’d been in the past.
He settled for the Travel Channel and a show about tropical getaways, but he kept the sound low, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her closer to him. He kissed her cheek. Next he pressed his lips to her ear then began nibbling on the side of her neck. She leaned into his kiss, ice cream and the sweet dessert wine on her lips. Her kisses were intoxicating.
Travis had necked plenty of times. Even had a few sexcapades. At no time was it anything remotely compared to this. Her lips were addictive. He was afraid that he was going to lose control, and soon. Also, he didn’t want to settle for just kisses. He wanted flesh on flesh. Passion. He wanted all of her. Yet he was fearful if he went for it, based on her previous behavior, she’d balk. He started to pull away, but she leaned into him.
She kissed her way down his neck, her hands finding every sensitive spot on his chest. He wasn’t just in trouble. He was in a full horn-dog panic attack.
“Angel, are you sure about this? I don’t want you to feel pressured.” His arms flailed. He was afraid to touch her further, but her delicate touch on his chest and hot sweet kisses pushed him as far as he could handle without confirmation. After the way she’d fought so hard to avoid a date, her behavior sent mixed signals. Did she want him or not?
“I can’t help myself either. I don’t want to overthink it. I just want to feel. It’s been way too long.” She ran her fingers through his hair as she continued to kiss him, sending tingles of hot energy clear to the tips of his toes.
“How long is too long?” Was she simply afraid of relationships? Or was it more than that? He didn’t know—couldn’t figure it out. He couldn’t hold off much longer.
“Don’t ask. I don’t want to go there now.” She kissed his chest then gently suckled his nipple.
“You’re sure?”
“Are you going to talk my ears off or kiss me?” She crawled onto his lap, engaging in a lip-lock he hadn’t expected, with plenty of tongue.
He arched when she grazed her nails along his back, kissing her way up to his mouth.
He wasn’t just afraid of his own emotions, but of hers as well. It had been so long since he’d felt this way about a woman. It wasn’t just sex. It was more. It was the connection between them, one he’d never encountered before. Sure he’d had raging-hot sex and gorgeous women, but it was Angel that drove him to distraction.
He searched her face for any sign of hesitation. There was none. “That’s all I needed to hear.” He stood and drew her into his arms.
He kissed her.
She kissed him back. Her arms locked around his neck.
He walked her backward as he unbuttoned her shirt.
Angel reached for the button on his pants, releasing him. Pushed his slacks to his knees. They stumbled and grabbed one another for balance.
He held on to the sofa, used his bare foot to push his pants the rest of the way down, and stepped out of them, discarded where they lay.
She wrapped her arms around him again.
He hiked her up into his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he waltzed into the master bedroom and his enormous bed.
The first round was as frenzied as he’d ever known. Neither of them had an ounce of self-control. An endless assault, struggle for domination. Her enthusiasm and her fight to take control during their first experience together enticed him, made him crave her even more.
As Angel trailed her fingers down his chest, ripples of goose bumps and tremors assaulted his body. His breathing was labored, and his body fought to stay in control. And lost.
The second round was only a tad bit subdued but no less full of energy. A heavenly education, learning the touches of one another, the weaknesses, and which parts of the body incited the slightest sensitive reactions.
He rolled her over and pressed himself against her. His mouth on her neck, she arched pleading, for him to come closer. All he could do was react, raining kisses down her neck, lower and lower still.
Wave after wave of pleasure overrode him. The intensity grew, building into something he couldn’t label. It was beyond passion, long past sensory until it reached exquisite release. The experience was more than cosmic.
They took a brief respite to rest, but the second she rolled against his side he was hard again.
But before he could advance Angel jumped out of bed and was back in a flash with the dessert cart.
She sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed a spoon from the hardened hot fudge and drew a picture on his chest. A heart. The cooled chocolate made his nipples harden as she pressed a glob to each. His stomach clenched at her touch. Her delicate hand was turning him into a snack. The scent of chocolate and sex filled the room. It was then she spread the melted whipped cream on his chest and added a cherry.
“I hope you realize payback is in your future.” He peered up at her, feeling fairly silly dressed as dessert with a massive erection, but it was worth it.
“I’m counting on you to be very vengeful.” She looked him in the eye with a devilish glint and a matching smile while she maintained eye contact then she slowly lowered her head. Taking a long slow breath, using her tongue she sucked the cherry into her mouth. Their eyes fused, she chewed and swallowed. A devious grin spread across her face as she lowered her mouth and latched onto his left nipple, sucking hard.
When she finished, she straddled him, her thighs squeezing his sides as she impaled herself on him then proceeded to lick the toppings off.
He gripped her hips and held her in place while she rode him. His heart thudded in his chest as the pressure in his crotch built. His breathing sped up. Just as he was about to blow she
reached behind her, touching the area between his balls and ass. He exploded with such power it took his breath away and stripped him of words and thoughts. All he could do was call her name.
Before he could even catch a breath, she leaned down and sucked his nipple then moved and kissed his neck while ripple after ripple built leading up to an even bigger explosion that rocked his body.
He clenched his fists around a handful of sheets, trying to maintain control. To hell with control. He wrapped his arms around her and flipped her over until he was on top, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He didn’t need hot fudge. He didn’t need whipped cream. She had everything he needed to send him straight into the stratosphere.
The next round landed them in the shower.
From there, they moved to the spare room because his sheets were now covered in sticky fudge and toppings.
By the time dawn broke, he was drained and completely sated. He kissed her temple and closed his eyes, grateful the drawn curtains blocked out the rising sun.
He fell into a blissful slumber, with Angel wrapped in his arms, her luscious more-than-ample breasts pressed against his chest, breathing gently, and the corner of her mouth turned up.
* * * *
Angel awoke and stretched, rolled over, and snuggled up against the warm body next to her. She reveled in the comfort of the bed. She peered at Travis, his face relaxed in slumber.
She began to shake. Her stomach quivered; nausea rose in the back of her throat. What had she done? “Damn it.”
So much for lessons learned and swearing never to repeat mistakes. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
His highlighted locks were unruly thanks to her loving touch and their steamy night in one another’s arms. Even in sleep, his eyelashes fluttered, and he wore a sexy smile.
She wanted to caress the crinkling laugh lines at the corner of his eyes. She wanted him again but forced herself to move. “Sorry,” she whispered as she slipped from the bed, put on his shirt, and went in search of her clothes. If she didn’t leave before he woke up, she’d never get away.
She snatched her bra, her blouse, and pants off the chair and threw them over her arm then grabbed her boots and went into the main room. She couldn’t find her underwear and didn’t dare take the time to search for them, nor to even use the bathroom for fear he’d wake up and try to stop her.
In the living room, she slipped on her pants. Then she stepped into her boots, smoothed her hair, and rummaged for her purse. She found it under the couch and pulled it out by the seam then stuffed her bra and blouse into her purse, looped the strap over her shoulder, and let herself out of the room by quietly closing the door behind her.
She raced to the elevator and stabbed the call button. Willing the mirrored doors to open, she glanced over her shoulder. When the elevator arrived and the doors closed with her inside, she sagged against the back wall.
Her foolishness overwhelmed her. The last time this happened, it had changed her forever. She’d never forget her newborn daughter’s angelic face.
Once in her car she headed for the shop. She stopped at a drive-through, shaking uncontrollably as she ordered coffee and a breakfast muffin. Then she drove to her shop and let herself in.
Luckily, she had a few changes of clothes hanging in the back room for nights she did inventory. She thumbed through the hangars of clothes, unable to select anything appropriate, choosing raggedy leggings to match her mood. She took a gulp of her coffee, burned the roof of her mouth, and dribbled on Travis’ shirt. Removing his shirt was paramount to cutting off her arm. She put it in the sink to soak then put on another shirt and fell deeper into despair.
Thank God she hadn’t given Travis the address to the shop. She was safe, at least for the time being. But what would she tell him when he called? She shut off her phone, unwilling to put herself in that position. She left the front of the store dark, opting to work in the back room because she felt unable to face anyone. Thank goodness the store was closed on Sundays.
She was such a coward, but what alternative did she have? Being with Travis was worse than any addiction a twelve-step program was designed to correct. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him once she let go of her fears. The only thing that kept her from going out of her mind was that she’d just finished her cycle. At least she was confident that her lack of judgment with Travis wouldn’t result in something that would send her over the edge. How could they have been so stupid as to forget about birth control?
Hiding out in the shop was childish, immature, and just plain stupid but she wasn’t comfortable calling Sabrina, convinced she would suggest Angel was overthinking things again. She had nowhere else to go. Maybe if she called Kat and started moving in, she’d find some clarity.
How could she have agreed to go to his room? Was she really so stupid not to realize where it would lead? He’d never respect her now.
As she waited for a decent hour to call Kat, what panicked her most what that she was falling for Travis. She had tried so hard not to feel. Then along came Travis and she broke all her rules—in one night, no less.
She had avoided men for so long. If she didn’t connect, she couldn’t fall. If she didn’t fall, she couldn’t be hurt.
It was all about protecting herself after discovering what an arrogant manipulator Grant had been. How could she have not seen it at the time?
She’d been young, naïve, and in love, that’s how.
Therein lay her biggest fear of all. Would Travis be as bad as Grant?
She waited until shortly before ten, unsure if Kat slept in on Sundays, before she dialed and made arrangements to move her things later in the day. Kat and Jill offered to help.
With one matter settled, she went back to worrying about Travis.
Pacing the back room, she became even more anxious. She dropped to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees, and rocked.
She considered herself a smart woman. She’d spent a great deal of time educating herself on the topic of sex, becoming an authority on ways to enhance a person’s sex life, yet when she was around Travis she couldn’t even control her own basic needs. Maybe Kat was right. Toys were less emotional than boys. Angel hated herself for her lack of control. How could she have repeated her worst mistake ever?
Wrestling with her thoughts, she tried to make sense of it all. Was she angrier at herself for going to bed with Travis, or was she more afraid of intimacy? She didn’t know the answer. The more she thought about it the more she realized several things had become tangled in the process. She ran an adult shop. Sex wasn’t a bad thing. Not all men were scum. And not all men placed so little value on a woman, intimacy, and relationships.
Grant had ruined all that for her. She was smart enough to realize that now. But still, it was as much her fault as it was Grant’s that they’d had sex, she’d gotten pregnant, and she’d lost her family as a result.
With Grant, her sexual experience had been one of pain and selfishness. It was over in a matter of minutes only to be followed by his betrayal. After that it was only when he wanted more.
Since then she’d learned a great deal about sex, enough to know the big “O” wasn’t a guarantee for women.
With Travis, it had truly been amazing. When they’d first started she’d been on a sugar high, which gave her courage. He was so reactive to her movements, her kisses, and her touch. It was exhilarating to see what she could do to him. She was surprised she’d remembered so many of the nuances from Carina’s books. Every one of them worked, bringing him to heights of pleasure. And herself in the process.
Hours of tears, days of recrimination, and years of berating herself for her past came slamming back at her. But this time she wouldn’t wallow in her stupidity. She gave herself a ten-minute pity party then pulled herself together and threw herself into work. She wasn’t an innocent eighteen year old any longer. She’d handled things then and would do it again now if it came to it. No longer would her father’s opinions control her every waking mo
ve—not this time. She’d allowed that before and it had crippled her for the past seven years. She’d get over it and Travis if she had to, and she’d survive, but at what cost to her self-esteem and self-respect?
Okay, so maybe she and Travis shared something in common after all.
She spent the rest of the morning piddling around the shop. The new books had been priced. She tucked two of them into her purse, gifts for Kat and Jill, and set out to move her things into the apartment.
Chapter 6
Once Angel finished moving into the apartment, the girls sat around talking.
Jill went in the kitchen to make coffee, and Kat went to her room to try on an outfit she wanted Angel’s opinion on for the meeting with her new advisor.
Angel pulled the books from her purse and placed them on the coffee table. Her hand bumped a personalized card with a fancy gold script DAP monogram.
Will be in Sacramento on Monday, January 14th. Suggest we meet for lunch.
Important family business at stake.
Del
Her hand hovered over the card as Kat came into the room. She yanked her hand back.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” Kat gave her a smile.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She got up and paced, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat, but she didn’t buy her own pathetic words.
“Sure you do. I’m sure Travis has mentioned Delaney. They’re long over with. This is just one of her ploys to try to get him back. But it won’t work. Travis is with you and you’re so much better for him. You’re real. Del is S & B.” Kat sniggered and waved a dismissive hand.
“What?” Angel wished she understood Kat’s sense of humor.
“Silicone and Botox—phony as a three-dollar bill. I have no intention of seeing her,” Kat said.
“What about the family business?”
“Family business my ass. She wants to be family business by marrying into the Wellingtons. She has nothing whatsoever to do with our family.” Kat flopped on the couch then wrapped her arms around a throw pillow.