His Angel: Trident Security Book 2

by Cole, Samantha

  "Hey, Angie." He took a few steps toward the fence and was please when she did the same. "You look very nice tonight. Going somewhere?" He figured from her conversation that her plans had been canceled but he was curious as to what they had been in the first place.

  She shrugged, although she didn't look too disappointed her plans had changed. "I was supposed to go on a date but he canceled at the last minute."

  "Must have been a blind date."

  Giving him a curious look, Angie tilted her head. "It was, but how did you know?"

  His blue eyes grew darker as his gaze covered her from head to toe and back up again. "Because if he knew how exquisite you look right now, he never would've canceled . He'd be thinking of how he could end the night with you in his bed."

  A blush stained her cheeks and after a moment she tore her eyes away from his, gesturing with her head toward her backdoor. "Well, his loss, I guess. I'll just go change into a pair of sweats, pig out on a container of Ben & Jerry's, and find some old movie to watch."

  "Or, you could let me take you out to dinner." What the hell had made him say that? Oh, yeah, the little head in his pants did. Glancing down, he was happy to see his khakis were loose enough to cover his semi-hard-on. He was also dressed nice enough, with his black polo shirt and loafers, to take her to dinner–if she said yes, of course.

  She was still blushing and the pinkness was not only on her cheeks but her upper chest as well. He wondered if it was the same color as her nipples and the thought made his dick twitch.

  "You don't have to do that. I'm sure you have other plans," she told him.

  "One thing you should know about me, Angie, I never say things I don't mean and I don't do anything I don't want to do. I just order one of my employees to do it for me." She smiled as he'd intended. "I'd like to take you to dinner, if you'd let me." He tried to keep the desire he knew was in his eyes to a minimum. If she knew how much he wanted to strip her naked, tie her to his bed and do nasty, erotic things to every inch of her body, she'd run from the yard, screaming.

  Her expression was more eager than shy and he liked the combination. "Well, since I'm already dressed and I think I'm running a little low on the Ben & Jerry's...yes, I'd like to go out to dinner with you. But this isn't a date." At his raised eyebrow, she added, 'I mean, it's not like this was planned, so we'll go Dutch."

  Shaking his head, he smiled at her. "Uh-uh. I asked you to dinner and it's my treat. I'm not expecting anything in return, Angie, just the pleasure of your company for the evening. And maybe a goodnight kiss, if you decide you had a good time."

  Now why did he tack on that last sentence? He was about to give himself a mental ass-kicking when she beamed at him. "We'll see." She turned toward her door as his heart beat a little faster. "Let me grab my purse and I'll meet you out front."

  * * *

  Five minutes later, Angie was sitting in the passenger seat of Ian's Ford Expedition, wondering how she ended up there. Did he ask her to dinner out of pity for her having been stood up at the last minute? Or did he truly want to spend some time with her? When he’d said she looked exquisite, her girly-parts had stood up and taken notice. Could he really be interested in her? And what about his comment about a goodnight kiss? Was he planning on kissing her later? Would she let him? The way her body had tingled when he'd taken her hand and helped her into the high seat of the SUV, she knew if asked to kiss her right now, she would let him.

  She thought about what little she knew about him from talking to Brody. Of course when she'd asked her neighbor a bunch of questions the other night over their steak dinner, she'd made them sound as if she were curious about the whole team and not one member in particular. She knew Ian was single, never married and thirty-eight years old. He had a nineteen-year-old goddaughter, Jennifer, who lived with him when she wasn't at college at the nearby University of Tampa. Ian had taken the girl in after her parents were murdered a year ago in a brutal home invasion in Virginia. His brother and business partner was Devon, who was engaged to a woman named Kristen. Angie had gotten a glimpse of the other woman in passing when they'd visited Brody but she hadn't been introduced to her yet.

  The other men were all single as well. They'd served together on the Navy's SEAL Team Four, which she'd been impressed to learn. She'd heard what SEALs had to go through physically and mentally to achieve the well-respected position. Ian had held the highest rank in the group as Lieutenant but only for the two years before he retired. There had been a three year period when all six had been together before they started retiring, one or two at a time. Ian and Devon had started up Trident Security and hired their former teammates as trusted employees as soon as each one left the Navy. Trident performed numerous security jobs for their clients including bodyguard work, home and business security systems, investigations, corporate security, and recovery of kidnap victims or stolen merchandise. The company also did the occasional job for the government which Brody said he couldn't elaborate on. They contracted several agents from another agency who supplied man-power to companies like theirs and they were talking about hiring six more people to create a second team.

  Angie suddenly realized Ian had parked the car after their brief ride and was shutting the engine off. She looked through the windshield and saw the quiet steakhouse they'd agreed upon. Without saying a word, Ian got out of the car, closed his door and walked around to open hers while she waited. Somehow she knew he would do that, and she liked the gesture. It'd been a while since someone other than Jimmy had opened a door for her.

  As they walked across the parking lot, Ian took her hand and hooked it under his elbow. He skillfully avoided puddles left over from the late afternoon shower which had passed through the area, and held the restaurant door open for her. She got the feeling he wasn't doing all those things to impress her but he did them naturally for any woman he was out with. The thought made her feel like this evening was somewhere between routine and special to him, but she hoped it was leaning toward special.

  After they were seated and ordered their drinks, instead of picking up his menu, Ian rested his forearms on the table and studied her for a moment. "So tell me about this blind date you were going on so I can get this jealousy I'm feeling out of my system."

  She laughed, figuring he was kidding, but played along. "Well, there's not much to tell. My friend hooked me up with Melvin Fromm, a thirty-five year old CPA with rude manners since he canceled on me ten minutes before I was supposed to meet him. And the best excuse he could think of was 'something came up’."

  The corners of Ian's mouth twitched twice before he could no longer hide his grin and a quiet snort. "Melvin, huh?" She nodded with her own amused smile. "Okay, I don't think I have to worry about him sweeping you off your feet anytime in the future, so I'll tamp my jealousy back down. I'll just be grateful the idiot canceled on you because it gave me the opportunity to spend the evening with an incredibly beautiful woman."

  Oh, Lord, why couldn't she stop blushing around this man? It wasn't as if she'd never had a good-looking guy compliment her and flirt with her before. She dated often, but for some reason, Ian took it to a whole new level for her. Their drinks were delivered, a draft beer for him and a cosmopolitan for her and they fell into an easy conversation about normal, everyday subjects. It wasn't until their waitress checked on them for a third time, did they pick up their menus to order something.

  "So," Ian said, after the waitress left to place their orders, "tell me what you do as a graphic designer because I've never met one before. Wait...first tell me how you became one. Is it something you always wanted to do?"

  Angie took a sip of her drink then shook her head. "Actually, I never realized I had any artistic ability, beyond doodling, until my sophomore year at high school when I had to take a mandatory art class. My teacher, Mr. Abraham, was the first person to see I had talent and pushed and inspired me to learn more about every artistic medium out there. He became my mentor, took me to art shows and museums, and helped
me cultivate my own style. I ended up with pencil drawings, oil painting and computer graphics as my main interests, although I dabble in some watercolors and sculpting when inspiration hits.

  "I earned a partial scholarship to the School of Visual Arts in New York and earned my Masters of Fine Arts. I spent the next six years working for a large graphic design company in New York City before I couldn't take the bitter winters anymore. The last straw was when a taxi hit a slush puddle near me and covered me from head to toe in cold, nasty water while I was on my way to work." Ian gave her a sympathetic laugh at the image of her looking like an irate, drowned rat. "Anyway, I'd visited a few friends who live Tampa before and knew I liked it. So I packed up, moved south five years ago and never looked back. I'd been doing some side work for a few internet clients while still in New York, so I branched out and built my own business from there. I design websites, printed brochures, and graphics for magazines, books and company logos–basically whatever a client wants." She took out her cell phone and flipped to the e-book cover she'd shown Jimmy a few weeks earlier. "This is a book cover I designed for a client last month and it ended up getting me a new contract with a publishing company."

  He took the phone from her and studied the picture. It was a photo of a man's bare muscular back and shoulders stopping just above his neck down to his black leather covered ass. A bullwhip was between his two hands and stretched taut across his back from shoulder to hip. Female hands came from around his front and clutched both of his butt cheeks and were the only parts of her body which were visible. Her long fingernails were painted a deep red which almost looked like blood. From how the woman's hands were situated, anyone looking at the picture would know her face was in the guy's crotch and it made one wonder if she was giving him a blowjob yet or not. The book's title Lydia's Desire and the author's name were done in the same red as the woman's nails. Ian looked up at Angie and smiled. "A guy's ass and naked back aren't my thing but I know a lot of women who would be drooling over this cover. It's erotic-looking with the whip."

  "Well, it was an erotic romance with BDSM and all, so I had to spice it up some. It was actually a good book."

  Handing her phone back to her, he raised one eyebrow. "You read books with erotica?"

  Putting her phone back in her purse, she shrugged her shoulders, a little embarrassed she’d admitted that. "There's so much of it out there nowadays, it's hard to avoid, even if you aren't into it. You can't always tell by the title and cover of a book, but some of it is fun to read and fantasize about."

  Ian took a casual sip of his beer. She'd answered his question loud and clear, even if her response was a bit vague. He knew she was submissive by her mannerism, but being a submissive and knowing you were one and wanted to participate in the lifestyle were two different things. Not just apples and oranges, it was more like mice and elephants–they were two different species and one could crush the other if not careful. He intentionally lowered his voice to his Dominant tone. "Does the BDSM lifestyle interest you?"

  Her blush was back again and her eyes shifted down to the table. His heart rate picked up and his cock began to harden. Whether she admitted it to him verbally or not, the subject definitely interested her, and he wondered if she'd experimented with sex before. At thirty-three, he doubted she was a virgin but what had her past sexual encounters consisted of? Had they been pure vanilla, or had she let any of her lovers tie her up, spank her or flog her? Had any of them pushed her limits, fucked her heart shaped ass? Given her orgasms which took forever to come down from? Had anyone ever fucked those moist red lips of hers and cum down her throat? In some ways he wanted her to tell him she practiced the lifestyle and in other ways, he didn't want to think of any man doing any of those things to her. He wanted to be the one to introduce her to his world of kink. Thinking she would appreciate it, he decided to let her off the hook...for now.

  He cleared his throat to let her know he was changing the subject. "My soon-to-be-sister-in-law's cousin...huh, how's that for a-round-about way for saying I know a guy...who's the assistant curator for the Tampa Museum of Art. They're opening a new exhibit tomorrow night at some big gala for their staff and benefactors. Since my brother and I recently made a donation we received invites. I was going to go stag, stay for a half hour and then beat it, but now I have a better idea. Would you please put me out of my misery by attending it with me so I don't have to talk to a whole bunch of stuffy, boring people? Kristen and her cousin, Will, would kill me if I bail, so I have to make an appearance."

  Her face became animated with excitement. "Is that the exhibit that's on loan from the Louvre?" When he nodded, she gushed, "Oh my God, I would love to go. I was planning on taking a whole day off next week to go see it."

  "Well, you can see it tomorrow night as long as you don't mind me not knowing a bloody thing about art. I can look at something and say 'yes, I like it,' or 'no, I hate it,' but that's about it."

  Her smile was flirtatious and infectious. "I'd be happy to teach you a bit about what I know."

  "Only if you let me teach you a bit about something I know some time." Ian was going to hell. He knew it the moment the word 'deal' came out of her pretty red lips and he couldn't help but think, what a way to go.

  The waitress brought their meals and Ian waited until she walked away again after making sure they didn't need anything else. "The gala starts at seven, so I'll pick you up about twenty of, since we'll be dealing with Friday night traffic. Oh, and it's black tie."

  Angie picked up her knife and fork and started to cut into her chicken cordon bleu. "I have the perfect dress then. A friend of mine got married at the Guggenheim last year and it was black tie also. I only wore the dress once and I always hoped I could wear it again, because I love it."

  "Well, in that case, I can't wait to see you in it." And hopefully, he thought, peel it off you at the end of the night.

  Chapter 4

  Angie checked her hair and makeup for the fourth time in five minutes. She had to stop fussing because she would ruin what her hairdresser and a makeup artist at the salon had worked so hard to do. Her hair was pulled up in a romantic up-do with one ringlet falling down around her face from the top of each cheekbone. She had so many bobby-pins and so much hairspray on, it felt like a helmet but there was no way she could mess it up, as long as she stopped fooling with it. The makeup was more than she usually wore, yet it was still understated. The shadow, liner and mascara around her eyes made the green color pop and she loved the effect. She wore simple jewelry, a pair of diamond stud earrings which had belonged to her mother and a gold bangle bracelet Jimmy had given her when she'd graduated from art school.

  She looked at her reflection in the wardrobe mirror on the back of her closet door and checked her dress again too. Thank goodness she kept up her workouts three times a week or the thing might not have fit. She'd gained about five or six pounds, mostly in her hips and thighs, since she'd been at her friend's wedding but the spandex lining in the black size-ten dress had enough give so it still looked great. The top was a halter style which looped around her neck with a gold chain and the front had a built-in bra support so her girls were fine. The chiffon material stopped under her arms, leaving her shoulders and most of her back bare before starting again at her waist line and falling straight down to her feet. There was a slit up her left leg which went to the middle of her thigh and she completed the look with a pair of shimmering gold Michael Kors shoes with a four and a half inch stiletto heel. She was glad Ian was so much taller than some of the guys she had dated because she was able to wear the really high heels she loved so much.

  Her mind drifted back to when Ian had dropped her off after dinner last night. He'd escorted her to her door, taken the keys from her hand and opened the lock for her. He didn't turn the doorknob because she would've only had thirty seconds to get inside, close the door and enter the alarm code before the cops were sent. When he'd stood near enough for her to feel his body heat but not touch, she'd wanted
to pull him closer.

  Handing her back her keys, his voice became low and sexy. "So, did you have a good time?"

  A shiver had assaulted her body. She'd known what he was asking. He'd said earlier if she had a good time, he wanted a goodnight kiss. And she'd definitely had a good time, in fact, she had a great time. "Yes, I did. Does this mean you're going to kiss me?"

  She had frozen in place, unable to believe she'd said the words aloud. She'd never been shy about dating, foreplay and sex before, however, she wasn't normally too forward either, taking her cues from the man she was with most of the time.

  Ian's mouth had ticked up in an amused grin before he lifted his hand to cup her chin and pulled her toward him. With their lips a scant inch from touching, he'd whispered, "It does."

  And then sparks flew.

  Holy shit could the man kiss! He'd been gentle at first, using only his lips as they moved seductively over hers, giving her the opportunity to pull away if she wanted to. When she didn't, his tongue began probing the seam of her lips, encouraging her to open them and grant him access to her mouth. She hadn't been able to refuse and the instant her lips parted, his tongue was inside her, tasting and exploring every inch of her mouth. He hadn't been sloppy as some men could be with their tongues–no, his actions were a cross between tender and insistent as if he was savoring and devouring her at the same time. He didn't do anything else but hold her chin and kiss her. No other parts of their bodies touched. When he'd all-too-soon ended the kiss, easing away from her, she'd groaned and almost begged him to take her right there outside her front door where anyone could see them.

  He'd paused a minute to let them both catch their breaths before telling her to go inside, turn off the alarm, lock the door and reset the alarm. She noticed through the long narrow window beside her front door he'd waited until he saw her re-arm the control panel before he smiled and walked back to his car. She had been rooted to the spot for a long time after he'd pulled away, remembering every second of the incredible kiss. After she'd shed her clothes and gone to bed nude, which was normal, her mind was still focused on how her body had come alive the moment it had made contact with his. While her brain wandered, her hand had moved to the juncture between her legs almost on its own volition. It hadn't taken her long to stroke herself to an orgasm so strong that, afterward, she'd drifted asleep with her hand still between her legs and dreams of Ian in her head.