Angel Gone Bad

by Sabine Starr

  “This.”

  He tugged her against his chest with one hand while he captured the back of her head with the other. He slanted his head down and pressed his lips firmly against her mouth, then nibbled and teased until she moaned and opened to grant him entry. He thrust inside, pillaging as he stroked down her back to clasp her hips and tug her against him.

  When he finally raised his head, satisfaction radiating from his blue eyes, she caught her breath. She touched a fingertip to her lips, now hot and puffy where he’d left his mark. But his kiss had gone much deeper than that, setting her whole body on fire, a slow-burning, molten flame.

  “I sincerely doubt Vikings left home in search of a kiss,” she said to gain back some control.

  “You’re right.” He grinned, teeth white and sharp. “They did this, too.”

  He pushed long fingers into her hair, dislodging the pins so that her neat chignon came undone and her hair tumbled down to her hips. He wound her hair around one hand till he held her captive. He tugged back her head with that hand while he used the other to unbutton her blouse, followed by kisses down her neck to her throat to the upper curves of breasts revealed by her chemise.

  Angel shivered in his embrace, caught between hot and cold, desire and fear, truth and lies. She wanted him, once more, with a single-minded intensity that made her want to run away as much as it made her want to drag him down to the blankets and have her way with him.

  “No clothes, not for a Viking’s woman.” He sounded hoarse, as if holding back emotion.

  Before she even started to protest, he pulled off her blouse, flung it aside, and then unbuttoned her split-skirt and shucked it downward where it hit the floor in a sodden heap. She stood in nothing but her wet chemise and drawers, and those were little more than transparent white.

  He put his hands on his hips and gave her a good, long look before he inhaled sharply, his rising chest setting off a play of thick muscles. “You’ll do.”

  “I’ll do?” He might as well have hit her with a bucket of cold water. Fury ignited her. She put her hands on her hips in imitation of his stance, and looked him up and down. “Well, I’m not sure you will do.”

  He grinned, chuckling. “Wait till you strip off my trousers before you make up your mind.”

  “Oh! You egotistical, pea-brain, outlaw . . . Viking.”

  “I like your kisses better than your words.” He smiled, almost gently. “Do you want to hear my next command?”

  “No!” She took a step over to the blankets, snatched one up, and wrapped it around her.

  He simply picked her up in his strong arms, sat down on the other blanket with her in his lap, and clasped her in his arms. “You need to get out of the rest of your wet clothes.”

  “They’ll dry.” She wiggled against him to get free, even as she felt her anger turn to lust.

  “Better be still.” He spoke in a husky voice as he clasped her ankle in one hand, chaining her to him.

  She understood why he wanted her to be still when she felt the hot, hard rise of him against her buttocks. That evidence of his desire set off another blaze of heat that spiraled outward from her molten center.

  He stroked in slow, lazy circles up her smooth skin with his rough fingers to her knee. When he massaged there, she almost cried out in impatience, feeling a deep burning sensation that grew more demanding with each moment of his touch.

  “What would a Viking do next?” She sounded breathless, knew it, but couldn’t bring back her words. Besides, now that she thought of it, she did have her readers to satisfy, along with herself.

  He slipped his hand up her inner thigh under her drawers to the apex of her thighs. He cupped the hot heart of her. She moaned at the sudden, intimate touch, feeling her entire body ignite from that one pivotal point.

  “Angel, look at me.”

  She didn’t want to open her eyes. She simply wanted to focus on his touch. But she did. In the dim light of the room, his eyes had turned from sky blue to deep, mysterious lapis.

  “Tell me you want me as much as you did before.” He moved his hand in slow circles, gently massaging her hot, tender flesh.

  She shivered, feeling a burning chill. “More. I want you more.”

  “Kiss me.”

  She realized that he needed her, too. He needed to know she still wanted him. He needed her to set aside the smart words, the games, the barbs. He’d made himself vulnerable to her. Could she do any less?

  She slipped the blanket off her shoulders. She tugged the chemise over her head and tossed it aside. She straightened her back so that her naked breasts thrust out toward him. She watched him watch her, almost as a mortal man might an immortal goddess.

  “Kiss me.” She put fingertips to his lips, almost reverently as she might a god named Thor. And thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rune kissed Angel, nibbling at her lips before delving deeper. When she returned kiss for kiss, he moved lower, placing gentle kisses down her throat to her plump breasts. He captured one taut tip with his tongue and then the other, teasing and tormenting until she moaned with desire. She tasted like honey. She smelled like lavender. And she felt like silk.

  But his main focus was much lower. She flowed like hot cream over his fingers as he massaged and tweaked and stroked her lower lips, and then inserted two fingers into the opening of her hot depths. She gasped.

  He returned to her mouth and plunged inside, stroking above as he stroked below until she stiffened and groaned and shuddered against him in what had to be her first experience of ecstasy.

  He’d never doubted her sensuality, but now he knew she had been a ripe plum just waiting to be plucked by him. He kissed her gently on the lips, and then reached down, removed her drawers, and tossed them aside. He wrapped her in the blanket and held her tight, gritting his teeth against his own need.

  “Rune?” She gently patted his cheek, wriggling her butt in his lap to get more comfortable. “That was wonderful. Thank you.”

  He smiled, or tried to, but maybe the movement was more of a grimace.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just give me a minute. Stay still.”

  “We didn’t get all your clothes off, did we?”

  “At this point, my trousers aren’t coming off.”

  She looked mischievous. “Do you want to command me to remove them?”

  “No.” He caught her meaning and changed his mind. “Yes. But first you need to—”

  “Do for you what you did for me?”

  He nodded, but wondered if he was getting into deep water. She was innocent. He didn’t know how she would react to the sight of his engorged cock. But he also knew he wouldn’t turn down the offer.

  She moved off his lap and sat down beside him. She glanced up at him with a little smile. “Looks uncomfortable.”

  He nodded again.

  “You’ll need to tell me what to do.”

  “First, unbutton my trousers.”

  She started at the waistband, but had trouble with the wet fabric. In order to release a button, she pushed and pulled and prodded until he didn’t think there was going to be any need to remove them. Finally, she pried open one button after another. She spread the front of his trousers, and his prick sprang free.

  “Oh!” She leaned back, appearing astonished. “I don’t think that’s right.”

  “You expected something else?”

  “Smaller, perhaps.” She set her head to one side. “I don’t believe that will fit anywhere.”

  “Trust me, it’ll fit.”

  “I’ll just have to take your word for it.” She smiled. “By any chance, do you and Thor have something in common?”

  “Just take hold of me.”

  “Won’t that hurt?”

  “Angel, I’m hurting now.”

  “All right. But it’ll take two hands.”

  When she wrapped both her soft hands around his cock, she almost didn’t need to do anything else. He’
d dreamed about this moment for so long, wanting, needing, burning for her touch, that he could scarcely believe it was real.

  “Like this.” He covered her hands and started the rhythm, teaching her what he liked and how he liked it. She caught on quickly. Soon he felt the pressure build stronger and harder until he found sweet relief in her hands.

  Satisfied, he lay back against the blanket, tugging her against his chest. He felt at peace, even if this was just a passing moment. There could be no love, no long life together, no sharing of dreams. There could only be the meeting of needs, the solving of problems, and the repairing of lives. If they both snatched a bit of pleasure along the way, that was good enough.

  “Rune, what is it? Didn’t I do that right?”

  “You did fine.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” She smiled as she sat up. “Now we can get rid of your trousers.”

  “I can do it.”

  “That’s my job.” She stood up, leaned over, and caught the waistband in her hands. He lifted his hips and she tugged his trousers down, tossing them aside. “There.” She put her hands on her waist. “Now we’re both alike.”

  “Not quite.” The sight of her made his prick quiver to life again. For distraction, he looked outside at the cool rain. “We better think about what we need to do. Eat and sleep. We ought to get out of here at first light.”

  “Rune, I’m not hungry.” She sank down on her knees beside him, reached out, and toyed with the Thor’s Hammer on his chest. “At least not for food.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Was she even more sensual than he’d suspected? “It’ll be a long ride tomorrow.”

  “I can sleep in the saddle. Tonight I want to be with you.”

  “We’re not going to do anything more than what we did just now. I don’t have any protection for a lady.”

  “I don’t want you to protect me.” She patted his chest. “I want you to make me happy.” She lay back down and snuggled against him.

  He gently stroked her naked body, tracing her peaks and valleys, feeling her soft, smooth skin, teasing her triangle of curls.

  As she placed a soft kiss on his chest, he glanced outside the open doorway. Lightning flashed and was followed by a loud crack of thunder.

  Probably Thor laughing as he rode across the sky and looked down upon a simple mortal man caught in a web of his own desire.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Back in Delaware Bend, nothing looked the same to Angel. Rune had awakened her to a palette of rainbow colors where once she had seen in shades of gray. Could she have anticipated it? No. Yet some deep part of her must have known that his touch would change her world, and therefore, she had been devastated by his earlier abandonment. In retaliation, she had struck out in pain and fury, almost destroying what she had valued most.

  Now she deeply regretted her actions, but she couldn’t recall them any more than she could recall that fresh, innocent love. She could only go forward straddling two worlds, caught between color and gray, love and hate, revenge and repentance.

  She’d sent a letter to Verity, bringing her up-to-date and inquiring about her health. She wished she’ d had more and better news to report, but she wasn’t giving up and she’d let her friend know it.

  “Are you sure you want to read from Sweet Rescue in Mama Lou’s Café?” Rune asked. “It’s chancy. What if somebody recognizes you as the Black Widow?”

  “Mama Lou recognized me.” Angel glanced at Manny, who looked quite pleased with himself as he slicked back his oiled hair and adjusted his clean shirt and trousers. “Or somebody we know told her.”

  Rune frowned, shaking his head. “Everybody wants to be a star, or know one, so the stardust falls on them, too. At least Manny found somebody to ride the horses back to Paris.”

  “At least I was able to salvage my wig.” She patted it in place. “This new dress isn’t as nice as my old one, but it’ll do.”

  “You look fine.” He stepped close. “I don’t like you going without me though.”

  “I won’t be gone long.” She put a hand on his arm, thrilling at the intimate touch. “You can’t be seen with Angelica when you’re the Black Widow’s man.”

  “Everybody knows she’d eat me alive if I stepped out on her.”

  Angel chuckled. “That’s what Black Widows do.”

  “Just don’t start up with any other guys.”

  “Women read my books, not men.” She tucked the strings of her reticule over her wrist, feeling the reassuring weight of the derringer and the Spider Grandmother deck of cards.

  “You have a way of turning a man’s head. Lucky comes to mind.”

  “He’s somewhere in Indian Territory.”

  “I hope he stays there.”

  “You ready to go?” Manny opened and closed his shiny new pocketknife and put it in his pocket.

  “Yes.” Angel had bought the knife engraved with a horsehead at Harris Mercantile and was glad he liked her gift.

  “Don’t let the horses eat me out of house and home.” Manny gave Rune a brisk nod.

  “I’m only going to watch the stable, not run it.” Rune walked them to the open doorway.

  Manny held out his elbow. Angel slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. As they started down the boardwalk, she heard Rune grumble behind them. But he knew as well as she did that he’d be as noticeable as a fox in a hen house if he went to the reading.

  She enjoyed their walk in the peaceful summer afternoon before wildness took over the Bend that evening. Still, she felt a growing sense of urgency to locate Tate’s trail. She’d had too many distractions, so this was her last reading for a while. With Rune’s help, she hoped she could quickly bring Verity’s fiancé home alive.

  When they arrived at Mama Lou’s, Angel saw copies of Sweet Rescue in the Indian Territory displayed in the window. She felt happy at the sight, but concerned that perhaps nobody would come to her reading.

  Manny opened the door with a flourish, ushering her inside. She glanced around in astonishment. She needn’t have worried. All the tables were filled with women, ranging from bawdy to lady.

  Mama Lou, big, buxom, and dressed in a fancy gown of rose-colored taffeta edged in lace and ruffles, rushed forward with outstretched arms.

  Manny swept off his hat and made a slight bow.

  Angel was caught in a tight embrace, smelling Mama Lou’s heady scent of rose water, cinnamon, and sugar.

  “Welcome, my dear,” Mama Lou boomed in her husky voice, and then whispered, “I’ve already sold two dozen copies of your book.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  Mama Lou raised her hand. “Quiet, everyone. Let me introduce the author who has so graciously agreed to join us here today. Angelica! ”

  “Thank you. I’m so pleased to be here.” Angel felt a slight blush warm her face. “I do hope you enjoy Sweet Rescue.”

  Polite applause followed her words.

  “Come right this way.” Mama Lou gestured toward a table at the back of the café piled high with books.

  Angel started forward and realized Manny was following her. When she reached the table, she stopped and Manny almost trod on her feet because he was watching Mama Lou so closely.

  She looked out over her audience. “As you know, I write from real life experiences.”

  More polite applause came from the ladies.

  “Many dime novels focus on worthy heroes such as Texas Jack, but I like to write from a woman’s point of view. I’m sure you’ve all enjoyed stories about our own Belle Starr who lives up in Indian Territory.”

  Again she was rewarded with applause.

  Angel gestured toward Manny. “The man who escorted me here today is a true hero of the West. He knows all about horses and getting us from one place to another. We’d be stuck without him. Manny is the owner of Manny’s Livery Stable right here in the Bend.”

  “What about the Viking?” a woman with bright red hair asked. “We heard he’d be
with you.”

  Angel felt an embarrassing blush spread across her face at the mention of Rune. “Heroes are sometimes called to duty.”

  “I’d like to call him to duty.” The redhead laughed as she turned to the other brightly attired women sitting at her table.

  Angel desperately wished she hadn’t mentioned heroes.

  Mama Lou intervened by stepping forward. “Perhaps we can persuade Angelica to read again soon and bring her famous Viking.”

  Louder applause filled the room as the audience nodded, glancing at each other in agreement.

  Angel felt like clobbering Rune. How had word spread so fast? He had only been at one of her readings. Of course, he had thrown her over his shoulder and carried her outside. That was pretty memorable. “I write about many heroes and heroines in my novel. He is just one.”

  “But he’s the one we want to meet,” a brassy blonde called out.

  Angel glanced at Manny, who was looking downcast. Rune wasn’t even here, and he was ruining her reading and making Manny feel bad.

  Mama Lou moved to Manny’s side and put her arm around his shoulders. “This man is my hero. And he should be yours, too. Without him, Angelica wouldn’t be here today.”

  Manny ducked his head in embarrassment as the café filled with appreciative applause. Mama Lou led Manny to another table where they sat down close together.

  Angel sat in her chair and faced the audience. She smiled, determined to start over without a hint of Rune. “Now I want to read to you all about heroes and heroines from Texas and Indian Territory.”

  She opened her novel, cleared her throat, and began reading from Sweet Rescue in the Indian Territory.

  Fortunately, everyone sat in rapt attention as she moved from one thrilling passage to another. They didn’t get bored or fidget. They leaned forward in their seats. She came to the end of the time she had been allotted and read the last sentence.

  Harmony swooned into the muscular arms of the virile stranger with blazing blue eyes. “My hero!”

  Angel set down the book to thunderous applause. She looked up. Two giant men stood just inside the doorway, applauding with everyone else. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought they were emissaries of Thor. But she knew them. She’d first seen them at Robber’s Cave in Indian Territory when they’d announced Lady Gone Bad to an appreciative audience. Angel had last seen them when they’d put her on a stage for Bonham in Fort Smith, Arkansas.