Angles With Attitudes: Three Book Collection of Angel Stories!!

by Mimi Barbour

“Yes, they’re decorated sweet balls rolled in chocolate, aren’t they?”

  “Si! You have tried them.” Gleaming white teeth flashed her way as he smiled with delight.

  Annie glided past the counter into the kitchen area to get the bottle of Chardonnay and the glasses she’d arranged earlier, while Sergio moseyed around the room, not even offering to help her open the wine, a chore Tyler unfailingly looked after because he knew she had trouble wielding the awkward corkscrew.

  She snuck a peek at Mr. Nosey-Parker, who appeared quite at home as he picked up various articles and peered at photographs. Meanwhile, she bit her lip and struggled with the silly bottle opener until it finally gave way and the cork popped out.

  Two wine-filled crystal glasses joined a dish of nibblies on the tray. She’d shopped after work at the Grand Central Station food market and her beautifully arranged selection of cheeses, grapes, crackers, and smoked salmon pleased her. She maneuvered the cumbersome load towards the coffee table in the sitting area, relieved to make it without dumping everything she’d set up so carefully.

  Relaxed on the light-green sofa, she smiled invitingly at him to join her, gesturing to the comfortable chair opposite from where she sat. Instead, he plunked down on the sofa next to her, flashed his Colgate smile and slid his arm over the top of the cushion to enclose her, invading her space.

  Insufficient room for shifting made her uneasy. Her brain scrambled for a topic of conversation to divert her anxieties. Not wanting to succumb to the weather, she chose the next easiest.

  “Which part of South America do you originate from, Sergio?”

  “A small fishing village a few hundred miles outside of Rio de Janeiro. My parents and three sisters still live there. Many years ago, my brother and I scraped together enough money to get ourselves into the city where the cruise ships docked and we were hired on as crew. We managed to work our way to New York.”

  “Do you miss your home, or do you like it here better?”

  “I love it here. I would never go back to Brazil.”

  Something in his tone caught her attention; a hardness never heard before made her rather uneasy. As if he sensed her discomfort, he captured her left hand and played with the pinky ring she wore, a Christmas present from Tyler. “You have lovely hands. Small and dainty. My adorable Mamãe had hands like you.”

  Using the pretext of retrieving her glass of wine, Annie reached out awkwardly, almost tipping it over. She slid as far as she could to the edge of the small space and put the tray of goodies on the seat between them. “Please, help yourself, Sergio.”

  She blushed when he chuckled knowingly, then relaxed when, with a good-natured grin, he accepted a napkin and began to fill it up with finger food. “This looks very appetizing, Anna.”

  She’d have felt a whole lot better if he’d been looking at the food and not her.

  * * *

  Annie loved her first impression of the celebrated restaurant where they dined. She felt like pinching herself as she scanned the romantic, soft-lit room. Having trouble accepting she was really here, she gazed at the sophisticated crowd and absorbed the atmosphere of entitlement. The ambience these people took for granted mesmerized her and made her feel fortunate to be a part of it all.

  Words reverberated in her mind. I’m in a wonderful, upscale restaurant, dining with a handsome, suave man whose eyes are riveted on me and I haven’t passed out or thrown up from sheer panic.

  Her traitorous heart whispered, he’s not Tyler. She knew that. But then again, a girl couldn’t have everything. Escaping the cell-like bars of her world, even for one night, thrilled and at the same time terrified.

  All her life, Annie had imagined dating a man of the world like Sergio, and here, tonight, her living male fantasy lapped up every word she uttered. His eyes brightened with each laugh he teased out of her and his hands never rested. They were in continuous motion, emphasizing his words with actions, touching her constantly. She watched him slyly refilling her glass that, to her amazement, seemed to empty out magically after the wild toasts he plied her with. Since she normally drank very little, she hadn’t thought to watch how much she consumed. Why would she?

  Nearby women stared at him blatantly, his charisma like a magnet to their adoring eyes. Annie swelled with pride as his companion. She felt more alive than ever before. Her internal excitement made her imagine she was lit from within and she sensed an invigorating kind of sparkle radiating from her, foreign to her normal shyness. Never before had she felt so attractive, so powerful, so sexy—or so woozy.

  The evening flew by as he talked, laughed and provoked her into relaxing, enjoying his wit. The persistent petting, which had annoyed her at the beginning of the night, became a normal pattern of behavior after he explained earnestly that the customs in his country allowed friends to invade personal space. That taking liberties wasn’t meant to disturb but was quite typical. Eventually, Annie began to enjoy his fondling. His leaning in close ignited her attraction to him. He made her feel as if she was the only woman in the room who mattered.

  As the evening wound down, she watched as he called over the maître d’ and bribed him to organize a taxi. Hmm, why did he do so now and not at the front door? Then she knew. When he helped her to stand, supporting her with his arms and his body, she realized how dangerous too much alcohol could be to her sense of balance.

  Giggling, she clung to him, too blotto to be embarrassed. She needed his guidance to get to the curb and into the idling car. Dizzy from the champagne he’d ordered, intoxicated not only from the alcohol but also his attentions, and with her newly awakened passion cells on high alert, she couldn’t wait to get him alone. To continue down the road he’d started in public. To finally find out what it felt like to be treated as a desirable woman.

  He gathered her close to him in the warm darkness of the moving vehicle and his flattering voice mesmerized while his soft hands attacked. Scattered kisses landed on her lower arms, especially the erogenous zones in her palms and wrists, where his tongue whipped her into a frenzy. Then he nuzzled her shoulders, licking and kissing her neck and ears—everywhere but her lips. All the while his hands roved with subtle, feathery touches orchestrated to send her into passion overload, and it did. Every so often the fog lifted and her addled brain actually had a moment of clarity. During those few reality sparks, she had to admit that he was a practiced seducer who played her like a virtuoso. So what…

  More! She wanted more…

  Emboldened by lust, throbbing and damp with expectancy, Annie thrust and rubbed her breasts against his chest, panting her excitement. Moans escaped, but she didn’t care; the honest sounds reflected her feelings. Her infuriating inexperience prevented her from going further to get her point across. However, if he didn’t kiss her soon, she was going to explode. She was starving to taste him by the time his mouth hovered over hers.

  Too late. They’d arrived at the entrance to her apartment building.

  “I’ll come up with you, if I may.” He whispered the words in her ears that were wet from his attentions. Shivers rippled from the spot like lightning forks in the sky.

  What a perfect gentleman. The thought popped into her befuddled brain. He knows I need his help, but he’s too polite to point it out.

  She bestowed an unfocused, loving smile his way. “Yes, please, Sergio. I seldom drink alcohol. Tonight it appears to have gone sshtraight from my mouth to my legs.” Her following giggle ended as she tripped and he caught her up in his arms.

  “Mi amour, any wine would become more potent the second it touches your gorgeous lips. So it is not entirely your fault. Plus, I might have been a bit too generous with the champagne.”

  Once inside, he lowered her and snaked his arm around her waist, fusing her full length against him. She melted into his firmness, allowing him access to anywhere on her limp body. Under her right breast, touching, slightly encircling, seemed the best place for him to hold her. The contact sent tingles flooding. Her eyes beseeched hi
m. She wanted him to kiss her and never stop.

  While they waited for the elevator, besotted and bleary-eyed, she took the opportunity to fully inspect his handsome face. He took the opportunity to finally cup the full softness that had perched over his wandering thumb.

  Chapter Eleven

  For Tyler, picturing Annie all dolled up and dining with some good-looking charmer screwed up any chance he had of enjoying the evening. He couldn’t think of anything else. By the time his frustration had peaked, he’d sent the first glass flying against the wall. The smashing sound loosened some of his pissiness, but not all. The next glass he filled with beer and drank. Didn’t help either! Watching it hit the same wall, sometime later, only spiked his embarrassment up another notch. That in turn annoyed him even more.

  He grabbed the broom and dustpan and went to work to clean up his mess. Bloody hell! He hadn’t broken anything like that since he’d been a teenager and lost his cool over a chick that had stopped his advances and left him suffering with walking difficulties. He plunked down on his sofa and snatched the decorative pillow Annie had helped him choose at a yard sale they’d attended together.

  “Christ! Grow up!” His growled words sounded harsh in the stillness of the darkened room.” The hell with her, the hell with all women. All they want is a man on his knees. Never again!” He crunched the cushion between his hands and then threw it on the floor. Cussing, a moment later he leaned down and grabbed it, then slammed it behind his head and tried to shut off the world.

  Again it didn’t work. Every time he closed his eyes, a strange image of Annie in trouble took on such realistic tendencies it seemed surreal. Sick of his own company, Tyler decided a walk would do him a world of good, clear his head and help to get his mind off his tomboy gone rogue.

  Once the idea appeared, it became a fixation. No choice, no dragging his feet, he had to get out of his apartment. Either he needed treatment for hallucinations or a curt, gravelly female had taken up residence in his brain and urged him to hurry and get his butt moving.

  The elevator, not ever on his floor, awaited him with the door open and no one else inside. He shivered. Strange and stranger! The ride down lasted only seconds. When it slowly opened, a nightmare unfolded. One look at his Annie clinging to her evening’s escort and his rage superseded common sense. Without thought, he ripped her from the scumbag’s groping fingers and shoved the conceited-looking, puffed-up character against the wall. All Tyler’s six feet two inches of anger intimidated. He watched the coward evaluate, then shrink back.

  Within seconds the smooth prick spoke. “Anna had a bit too much to drink. I was seeing her safely home.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll take her up,” he growled. By this time, Tyler had a supportive arm around the wobbly woman. He looked down at her. “Say bye-bye to your date…Anna.” His spitting out her newly chosen name would have set worry bells ringing, if she’d been in her normal state of mind. Blitzed out of her head, she just jiggled her fingers and said, “Bye-bye, date.”

  With everything happening so fast, Tyler knew Annie hadn’t had a chance to fully appreciate the change in her situation. One minute she was leaning drunkenly against the slimy character whose hands were all over her body, while her unfocused eyes gazed at him adoringly. The next minute, Tyler had taken over.

  As the elevator doors closed, leaving Sergio shrugging off his disappointment, a fuming Tyler lifted Annie into his arms.

  At ease, Annie wrapped her arms around him, snuggled her face into his neck and then sighed. His familiar expensive cologne, one of her gifts that he regularly used, seemed to soothe her. “I love how you smell.”

  His anger fled the moment he became aware that she sniffed at him like a small kitten. His legs almost buckled when he felt the tip of her tongue lick him and then press a tiny kiss over the wet spot.

  The groan started deep, frustration forcing it out, chasing away his righteous snit. At her door, he lowered her to her unsteady feet, but she refused to unwind her arms from around his neck. They clung, her body glued to his.

  He reached up for the hidden key she kept stashed above her door, while balancing her with one arm. The lock took forever to get opened. Not that she noticed. Busy familiarizing his ear with her lips kept her amused. Swinging her back up and into his arms, he kicked the door closed behind them and carried her carefully into her bedroom, a room which seemed to have undergone huge changes since the day he’d helped her paint the ivory walls.

  Pillows of all shapes, in all shades of turquoise, some beaded, some embroidered, were strewn helter-skelter over a new satiny brown duvet. He swiped at them one-handed, clearing a space as he lowered her body to the side of the bed, letting her flip backwards. Trouble was, she had his neck imprisoned by her strong, clinging arms and she wasn’t about to let go. He fell over her, half covering her body.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Kiss me. I have to be kissed at least once tonight, I just—have to.” She pushed upwards, thrusting her breasts against his chest.

  Her desire sparked his, and her admission that she hadn’t yet been kissed assuaged most of the gut-wrenching rage he’d felt at seeing her in the arms of another man. Besides, he couldn’t resist her pushy invitation. Drunk or not, his name on her lips would go a long way to restoring his humor.

  “Honey, do you know who’s with you? I need to hear you say my name.”

  “Of course I know, silly.” She giggled inanely.” It’s Dick.”

  He stiffened and tried to pull away, but she held fast. Her grip couldn’t be broken without hurting her and that was out of the question.

  “Tyler, I’m kidding.” She stared up into his eyes, dewy softness mixed with sultry invitation. Her needs were clear; she wanted him. But his needs were just as clear. Not this way.

  God knew how long it had been since he’d had a woman. Here she was offering him every man’s dream. But taking advantage of her drunken state didn’t sit well with him. It wouldn’t sit well with her, either, in the morning. He knew it, even if right now she didn’t.

  He slowly began to rise, halted again by her gripping arms. Tired of waiting for him to take the initiative, Annie shocked him by lifting herself, twining her arms tighter around his back and fusing her lips onto his.

  She was sweet. So sweet! Her inexperienced mouth caressed like a little girl. Small puckered kisses zeroed in on his hunger. She struck at his nose, cheeks, lips, wherever she could reach. And her wiggling body reached zones he’d forgotten were so quickly aroused. He closed his eyes, savoring her attempts at seduction.

  Obviously frustrated by his lack of co-operation, Annie became more inventive. He guessed she’d sensed him stalling. So she doubled her efforts to get him involved in her love play.

  Arching her body fully, she pressed herself into him and sinuously rubbed her breasts against his chest. Without breaking this rhythm, she secured her one leg over his and thrust her heat up to rub his hardness.

  Like a Venus flytrap, she’d engulfed him. Good intentions flew out the window. His hoarse voice whispered her name over and over as his restraint dwindled, then disappeared completely.

  When his lips captured her wandering mouth, he drained her passion, then felt it refill and overflow. She panted. She groaned. And she whimpered his name in tune to his litany of hers.

  She grabbed his hand, placed it over her breast, then with her guiding his fingers she forced him to surround the swollen mound. His lips soon followed his hands, and he breathed deeply through the flimsy material over the exact spot that stood hard at attention. Her inexperience, overcome by the alcohol, disappeared. With both hands, she held his head to her and whispered in his ear. “Oh, God! Tyler, that feels so good. Touch me.”

  Her throaty voice ramped up his ardor, but he had to slow down or explode. He backed away and looked down at her beautiful, perky nipples pushing against the silk of her dress, and then he searched her face. Sensing his eyes on her, her eyelashes swept upwards a fraction at a time. He combusted
from the fervent expression her smoky blues reflected.

  “Tyler, pleeasse! Don’t stop. Hold me. Kiss me again. I love your kisses.” Caught in the throes of passion, her body undulated with each word. He watched as her mouth opened a fraction in order to suck in her bottom lip so her teeth could bite down on the plump pinkish mound. Small hands rubbed his upper body but were not quite adventurous enough to slide lower. Still, instincts buried deep propelled her to again mash her hips against his.

  They’d fit together in the same way a well-oiled gun fits into its holster. No doubt whatsoever. When the moment came for him to slip inside her, into her wetness, it would be like coming home at last.

  Fast losing control of the situation, and of his convictions, he tried to think. Heaven and hell’s advocates sounded in his head.

  “I need her.” From his bad side!

  “I can’t.” Good side just had to get his two cents in there.

  “I bloody want her more than my next breath.” Come on, bad side!

  “It’s not right.” Gravelly-voiced idiot side? Where did she come from?

  Devil and angel warred with each other while he awaited the outcome—totally in support of his hell-bent buddy.

  Annie, frustration mounting, exploded the last brick in his conscience wall. She forced him into a kiss with her dainty tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. Then she shocked him senseless. With an age-old movement performed since the beginning of time, she pushed hers in and out, and then did it again.

  Satan pumped his hands in the air. Tyler’s restraint was gone.

  He tumbled over next to her, gathering her into his trembling arms. His lips moved to her throat and his hands moved to her dress. He worked it loose, prying the material from around her neck, leaving the flimsy garment pooled at her waist. The strapless piece of creamy lace covering her chest distracted him, but not for long.

  His eyes feasted. Milky white, fully aroused breasts with small hard nubs stared back. They looked to be the perfect size for his hands, but to be sure he measured them with his touch. He measured them with his mouth, also, and found they fit just right. He licked and suckled, then rubbed his face this way and that, snuffling like a mother animal with one of her newborns. He adored the feel of her soft skin.