Fallen Angel

by Lily Baldwin

  Ethan shrugged and pulled Angel in for another kiss. “I’ve never wanted anything real until I met you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Angel stood with Ethan in his kitchen in Boston, wrapped in his plush, black bathrobe, the sleeves bunched around her wrists. “Oh no, is that the time?” she said noticing the clock on his microwave. She set her coffee on the island. “I need to get dressed for work.”

  They had arrived home that afternoon from the mountains and had done little more than soak together in his tub. Aspirations to hunt through Ethan’s refrigerator for something to eat were soon forgotten when he turned her around, bent her over the kitchen countertop until she cried out with agonizing pleasure.

  Her orgasm had left her weak-kneed and lazy. More than anything, she wanted to remain in Ethan’s soft bathrobe, eat take out, and soak in another bath. But, unfortunately, her holiday from work was over.

  “Are you excited to go back?” He pulled her close and untied his robe, his hands gently gripping her bare waist. “I ask, because you seem to like your job.”

  She smiled at him. “I do like aspects of it, but the hours are awful. I would much rather stay here with you and take another bath.”

  He pressed her close and kissed her, his tongue demanding every last drop of sweetness from her mouth. Then he pulled away, his eyes searching and intense. “Then stay. I’ll take care of you,” he rasped. He lowered his forehead to hers. “Stay with me.”

  She knew he did not just mean for the night. Ethan Calloway was asking her to be his. Her heart swelled in her chest. She thought she might burst with happiness. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and squeezed with all her might. “I’ll stay.”

  He lifted her feet off the ground and kissed her lips, his tongue teasing, stroking. His lips moved to her throat.

  She groaned. “But I have to give Suzi notice, which means I still have to work tonight.”

  He blew out a long breath. “As much as I want you just to quit, giving your two weeks is the right thing to do.”

  She nodded. “Suzi’s been good to me.”

  He took a deep breath and straightened, then dropped his hands to his sides. “Okay, go ahead. If I keep holding that ass, you won’t be going anywhere.”

  He followed her to his bedroom and watched her search for clothes. She grabbed her jeans and started to turn them right side out while her eyes darted around the floor. “I can’t find my bra.”

  He took her hand. “Follow me.”

  “I can’t, Ethan. I have to get dressed.”

  He smiled back at her. “Trust me.”

  He led her down the hall and opened the door to what used to be a guest bedroom. She stepped into the room, her brows drawn, clearly confused. He watched her consider the space. While they were up at the mountains, he had made a call to have the room redone. The extra bed was removed. There was a desk with a new laptop and a dressing table. She went to the table and picked up a perfume bottle. “Lilacs and vanilla, my favorite.”

  He crossed the room and opened a door, revealing a large walk-in closet.

  “Oh my God, Ethan,” she said, her eyes wide. “This is amazing.”

  He smiled. “You now have an array of bras and panties to choose from in those drawers.”

  She quietly wandered the space. Then she stood, her fingers absently feeling a pair of jeans. He stepped toward her when he noticed her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “What is it?” he said. “If you don’t like something, we can change it.”

  She wiped at her eyes. “No, it’s perfect. Everything is perfect. I would have bought everything in this room—you’ve captured my style. You’ve—” She turned away. “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “Look at me, Angel,” he said softly. She turned to face him, her lips trembling.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “I want you to live here with me. I want to make you happy and keep you safe.”

  “Really?” she said. “You really do?” He could see her fear.

  “More than anything.” He smiled and untied her robe again. This time, he let it fall to the ground.

  She splayed her fingers wide across his chest, a look of hunger brightening her amber eyes. He picked her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. She smiled down at him. “It looks like I’m going to be late.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After nearly two weeks of being on the receiving end of Brooke’s death glare, Angel was determined to befriend her. Balancing a confectionery box on the palm of her hand like a waitress, Angel swung open the door to Ethan’s garage. “Good morning,” she said, smiling at Brooke, who was behind the counter, applying mascara.

  Brooke glanced up from her compact at Angel. “How can you be so cheerful this early in the morning?”

  “Hazard of the job,” Angel said as she crossed the room. “I’ve been up since three this morning baking.”

  “It’s only eight o’clock. Why are you out of work so early?” Brooke asked as she set down her mascara.

  “Suzi overstaffed the morning, so I have a couple hours off,” Angel explained.

  Brooke brought an eyelash curler to her eye. “Lucky me,” she said dryly.

  “Lucky you, indeed. I’ve brought fresh baked donuts.”

  Brooke eyed the box through her glittery lashes. “What kind?”

  Angel knew this was her chance to win over Brooke. The beauty’s body had that sinewy, starved look—the kind of figure that could only be the result of endless workouts and meals of iceberg lettuce. Angel opened the box and placed it on the counter in front of Brooke. “You get first pick.”

  “Oh God,” Brooke said as she quickly piled her makeup back into her hot pink leather satchel. Then she gripped the box between manicured fingers and stared at the puffy pastries. Several boasted a thick chocolate glaze that shone under the fluorescent lights. Others tempted the eye with a confetti of rainbow sprinkles.

  “I’ll have to do double duty at the gym,” Brooke said, her voice strained. Chewing her bottom lip, she seemed to consider each one.

  “You have to treat yourself occasionally,” Angel said soothingly. “You deserve it.”

  Brooke smiled at her. “I do, don’t I?”

  “Absolutely. That one is really good,” Angel said, pointing to a chocolate frosted donut. “It’s Boston Cream, but like no Boston Cream you’ve ever tasted.”

  Brooke moaned softly. “Oh God,” she said as she pinched the thick donut between her turquoise, diamond-studded talons and took a bite, making a sound that was almost orgasmic. “Oh God. It’s amazing.”

  Angel smiled at the frosting dotting Brooke’s pouty lips. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Brooke flashed Angel a genuine smile for the first time. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I really needed this.”

  “Hold on,” Angel said, smiling. “It’s not quite perfect yet.” She crossed the room to the coffee station and poured a cup. “How do you take it?” she called to Brooke.

  Brooke covered her full mouth and mumbled, “Black,” between her fingers and giggled.

  Angel smiled. “A girl after my own heart.” She returned to the counter and placed a steaming mug in front of Brooke. “Now, this is how you start the day.”

  Brooke’s smile stretched from ear to ear. And just like that, Angel knew she had won her over thanks to the irresistible power of fresh baked donuts.

  Angel smiled and gave her new friend a little wave before popping into the garage to offer Nathan and the other guys a pick from her goodie box. Then she headed into the bike room.

  “I only have a few left,” she said, holding up the white, confectionery box.

  Ethan took the box from her hands and passed it off to Lucky. “I prefer the baker.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her. She savored the taste of his warm mouth.

  “I think I prefer the baker as well.”

  Angel froze in Ethan’s arms.
She glanced to see who had spoken, and for the first time, she noticed a stranger standing off to the side. He was tall and impeccably dressed in a tailored suit. From his stance to his gaze, he oozed confidence. He had startling green eyes, dark hair, and he had spoken with a refined English accent.

  Ethan kept his arm possessively around her waist. “Only the bike’s for sale.”

  The man walked toward her, his movements unhurried while his gaze traveled the full length of her body with a predatory glint in his eye, making her feel instantly wary. She tucked herself a little behind Ethan.

  “Mr. Calloway, I meant no offense. I was merely admiring this young woman’s beauty.” He offered her his hand. She looked up at Ethan and waited for his approval. His expression looked lethal, but he nodded. She let the Englishman take her hand.

  “I am Lord Nicholas Winthrope.” He bent and pressed a kiss to the top of her hand, all the while keeping his gaze locked with hers. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss?”

  Angel swallowed. “Sullivan,” she answered nervously. “Angel Sullivan.”

  A smile curved his lips as he continued to stare at her. Then he straightened and stepped back. “A pleasure, Angel.”

  She smiled, then looked away, not knowing how to respond. Ethan’s newest client made her nervous. Her shoulders inched up around her ears, but then she felt Ethan’s hand tighten around her waist. Instantly, her apprehension dissolved. She straightened, standing tall. Ethan would always protect her.

  “I think we’re done here, Nick,” Ethan said. “You’ve seen the design basics.”

  Angel watched Lord Winthrope smile at Ethan. “I cannot begin to express my delight. You have a rare talent,” he said, offering Ethan his hand.

  Angel relaxed when she saw the level of respect the Englishman showed Ethan.

  “We’ll talk next week,” Ethan said to his client. Then he turned to Lucky. “Enjoy the donuts. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Ethan led her out to the parking lot. “Are you okay?” he asked as he helped her slide on her helmet.

  “He frazzled me,” she confessed. “He was just a little intense, but I’m fine now. I could tell he appreciated your work, which is what really matters.”

  “You are what really matters,” he said, firmly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She smiled and put on her sunglasses. “Never better.”

  He squeezed her hand, then put up the kick stand. “Hold on tight.”

  “Gladly,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  She loved riding on the back of Ethan’s motorcycle, her body flush against his, her head, helmet and all, resting on his strong back while he skillfully wove through the cars to bypass the city traffic. It was a beautiful time of year with the heat of summer behind them and the cold of winter not yet on the horizon.

  They pulled onto Beacon Street and, together, made their way up the granite steps. She squeezed his hand tighter, savoring the security of his strength. His capable presence at her side allowed her to walk more confidently through life. She was no longer afraid of what might await her around the corner.

  Standing outside his door, he bent his head and whispered in her ear. “Close your eyes.”

  Trusting him fully, she smiled, closed her eyes, and allowed him to lead her through his home. When he stopped, she inhaled deeply. Her favorite scents of lilac and vanilla reached her nose.

  “Open your eyes.”

  She gasped, her hands covering her mouth. His massive, round soaking tub glistened with bubbles. Candlelight illuminated the room with a soft, sensual glow. Steamy warmth enveloped her, and her body started to melt just at the sight of the frothy suds. “How did you do this?”

  He shrugged. “When you called to let me know that you were going to have a break, I made a few calls of my own to surprise you.” He drew closer, his eyes narrowing on her with wicked intent. “Stand still,” he said softly.

  She did as he asked and stood unmoving, her arms hanging at her sides. He circled around her, his arm sliding across her waist and stomach. Then he stopped behind her and covered her eyes with a soft strip of fabric. Her heart raced as he secured it in place with a knot. The air was thick, the bath scent now stronger. She licked her lips, nervously waiting for what would come next.

  “Lift your arms,” he said.

  She raised her arms up over her head. Standing behind her, he slowly eased her shirt up, dragging his fingertips up her torso before he swept it off.

  His tongue and full lips grazed her shoulders, sweeping down her back, sending shivers shooting through her. She groaned and leaned into him.

  “I told you not to move.”

  She froze, her hands at her sides, her heart racing faster still.

  Several moments passed while she waited for him to touch her. Her body tingled in anticipation.

  He gripped her hips, causing her to gasp with surprise. He pulled her against him. She could feel his hard length through her jeans. Then he undid her button and zipper and eased her jeans and panties down.

  She was completely naked and utterly vulnerable. Her breaths quickened as he nudged her legs apart, but still he didn’t touch her. She stood, unmoving, heart pounding, waiting for what would come next. Her body ached to be touched. Then a ripple of sensation shot through her as he gently stroked between her thighs. Her hips pressed forward, her body hungry for more.

  “Don’t move,” he commanded, withdrawing his touch.

  She held still, her heart blasting in her ears, her body burning hot with need. Waiting, she became even more breathless, anticipation governing her every thought. Every inch of her body longed for him, her nerve endings vying for his caress.

  “Please,” she whispered, but then a squeal came unbidden to her lips when he suddenly scooped her up and set her feet down in the steamy tub. Gently, he eased her down, immersing her body in heavenly warmth and scented bubbles.

  “Lay your head back,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  A soft cloth glided over her breasts. Her nipples tingled, becoming hard nubs as he gently washed them. Slowly, he dragged the soft cloth across her stomach. Then he washed her inner thigh in slow circular motions.

  “Oh God,” she groaned, lifting her hips, yearning for his attention to move higher, but instead his cloth swept to her other thigh. She squirmed as need burned through her. Again, he massaged her, creeping exquisitely close to where she wanted to be touched most before moving away again.

  “Please,” she begged.

  “I know what you want,” he rasped in her ear. A breath later, his hand glided back up her thigh. At last, he ran the cloth between her legs. Soft moans escaped her lips when his finger penetrated her, slowly, deeply. And then another finger. Pressure built within her, making her writhe. Her body throbbed, strained, ached for release.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Please, Ethan, don’t stop.” She seized as exquisite pain erupted into endless pleasure.

  Breathless, her body still reveling, she was aware of being lifted, dripping wet from the tub. He carried her in his arms. A cool chill told her when they had left the bathroom. And then soft warmth cradled her as he laid her down on his bed.

  He untied the blindfold. The soft glow of dozens of candles illuminated his room. He stood before her, his cut, chiseled body on exquisite display. One look at his arousal, and she was ready for more.

  Hunger darkened his eyes. “You are so hot,” he growled.

  She arched her back and spread her legs wide. He entered her in one thrust. Her breaths came in ragged heaves. Her heart pounded as he filled her, again and again, and then her body erupted, spiraling and spinning.

  Ethan felt her body quake around his hard length. She was so slick and tight, so pure and untouched. Her body hugged his arousal until aching need turned to glorious relief.

  ∞∞∞

  Angel laid her head on his smooth chest. “That was amazing,” she said.

  He kissed her head. “You’re amazing
.”

  Her fingers grazed cool metal. She lifted her head to take a closer look at the cross he always wore. It was silver with Celtic knotwork. “This is beautiful.”

  He remained silent, unchanged except for the beating of his heart, which quickened beneath her fingertips.

  At length, he spoke, his voice low and intimate. “It was my father’s. He gave it to me a week before he died.”

  “How did he die?” she asked quietly.

  “He killed himself.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath as her hand flew to her lips. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. That’s horrible.”

  Ethan’s own words echoed in his mind. He never told people about his father. To his even greater surprise, he realized he wasn’t done either. Words, so personal and secret, poured almost unbidden from his lips. “My dad was always a little manic, you know. He soared high when times were good and crashed when things turned shitty. But then something happened that just pushed him too hard. He couldn’t handle it.”

  He sat up, and her arms came around him from behind.

  “What happened?” she asked softly.

  He shook his head, still amazed how the callousness of one man could bring about the demise of another. “He poured his heart and soul into his business. Gave everything he had to it. Then a bigshot client cheated him, and he lost it all…everything.” He lifted his shoulders. “It broke him.”

  She stroked a hand down his back. “That’s so awful. Who was the client?”

  “Lockwood Luxury,” he said, the words dripping from his lips with disdain. “The company is run by a shameless scumbag.”

  She buried her head in his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What’s that,” he asked, suddenly hearing a repetitive beep.

  “Oh no,” she gasped behind him.

  “What it is?” he said, turning to look at her, but she scurried off the bed.

  “Damn it, Ethan. I’m so sorry. It’s my alarm. I didn’t realize the time. I have to go back to work.”

  She dashed from the room. He followed her into her closet and watched her frantically grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.