by Larissa Ione
Closing his eyes, he gripped his erection and kept the fantasy going, only now it was Suzanne who was on her knees, her strawberry-red lips wrapped around his cock as she caressed his sac with those long, graceful fingers.
He groaned, letting his soapy hand slide slowly down his shaft, pretending Suzanne’s mouth was doing the deed. She’d be good, and it would still feel amazing. She was so full of life and enthusiasm, and he had no doubt she tackled everything with the kind of energy she cooked with.
In his mind, she sucked him deep and then swirled her tongue around the head of his cock before swallowing him again. His legs trembled as the orgasm built, and he had to throw out his hand to brace himself against the wall as the tingle of imminent explosion spread from the base of his spine to his balls.
Squeezing the base of his shaft, he held it off, just long enough to imagine Suzanne coming to her feet and bending over again so he could spread her legs wide and bury himself deep in her dripping pussy. Fuck, that was it, game over, and he suppressed a shout as he came in a long, powerful climax that shocked him with its intensity.
Jesus, he thought, if sex was that good just thinking about Suzanne, what would it be like to actually be with her?
Not that it could happen. Sex with clients wasn’t exactly forbidden, but unless it was part of the job, it wasn’t encouraged, either. And Declan had long ago learned that getting too close to anyone, including teammates, could lead to mistakes and pain.
Out of the corner of his eye, through the steamy glass, he saw the blurry reflection of the tattoo on his back, reminding him of that pain. He fucking hated it, had tried to have it removed, but the freakish thing couldn’t be altered or erased. It was as if The Man Upstairs wanted him to see the evidence of his arrogance and stupidity every day.
So, no, he wasn’t going to get involved with Suzanne no matter how attracted to her he was.
His dick would just have to deal.
Chapter Seven
Suzanne was like a kid in a popcorn-scented candy store. Or, to be totally accurate, a kid in a popcorn-scented comic book store. She munched on a bag of complimentary popcorn as she walked up and down the aisles, stopping to admire superhero-themed artwork on the walls and action figures and memorabilia on shelves. When she saw the TARDIS replica from Dr. Who in the corner, she actually giggled with delight.
“This store is so cool. I can’t believe I’ve never been inside one of these places.” She glanced over at him. “You come here often?”
He shrugged. “Now and then.”
“Hey, Dec!” The store owner, Stuart, waved as he emerged from the back room, his arms loaded with boxes. “I have the new Hellboy and Black Panther you asked for last week.”
Suzanne gave him a “you’re busted” look. “Now and then, huh?”
He felt his face heat. “Okay, yeah, I practically live here.”
“Practically?” Stuart called out as he walked by. “I buy his favorite brand of popcorn for the popper, he has a designated spot on the fridge shelf in the back for soda, and one of the chairs in the sitting area has a permanent dent in it from his ass.”
“Thanks, Stu. That doesn’t make me sound pathetic at all.” He plucked a couple back issues of Demonica from the backlist bins and handed them to Suzanne. “These’ll get you started.”
“Thanks.” She bounced on her toes and grinned. “This’ll be fun. Like I said, I grew up with Mighty Mouse, Alley Oop, and Blondie and Dagwood.”
He shook his head in dismay, but what he really wanted to do was kiss her. He’d bet that kissing her would be just like her dessert, sweet but with a touch of spice and a little heat. And the way she was looking at him now could be described using those same terms.
Damn, he really wanted to kiss her. And then strip her the way he had in his shower fantasy last night. And again this morning when he’d woken with a raging hard-on.
She looked up at him, her eyes bright. He wondered if they’d be that bright if she knew what he was thinking. Would they be surprised? Appalled? Or smoky and heavy-lidded as she considered all the dirty possibilities? Maybe all of the above? Suzanne herself was a blend of contradictions, making it impossible to predict how she’d react to anything. She seemed both inexperienced and wise, an innocent seductress, a grounded dreamer.
“So how much time do you really spend here?” She held the comics to her chest as they walked toward the front of the store.
“Are you asking how much of a nerd I am?”
A pretty shade of pink bloomed in her cheeks. “Maybe. Have you been to any comic conventions?”
He grabbed a copy of the newest Justice League as he walked past a rack. “I’m a pretty big nerd. And yes, I’ve been to a convention, but it was only because I was working security.” Still, it had been awesome. “I got to meet Kevin Smith and Robert Kirkman.”
She put her comics on the sales desk. “Who?”
“You don’t know?” Stuart gasped in mock horror as he rung up the sales. “Declan, you brought a heathen into my store!”
“Come on, Stu,” Declan teased. “How else can we infect them with our obsession?”
“True.” Stuart bagged the comics and glanced over at Suzanne. “You’re welcome in my store whenever you want.”
“Thank you.” She paused with a delighted laugh as she dug around in her purse. “Hey, I just realized your name is Stuart and you run a comic book store. It’s very The Big Bang Theory.”
“Excellent taste in TV shows.” Stuart sent a teasing wink Declan’s way. “A woman after my own heart.”
“Don’t get too excited,” she said with a good-natured wag of her finger. “I only catch it in passing when my assistant is watching TV.” She pulled her wallet from her purse and gestured to the comics. “I’ll pay for Declan’s too.”
Declan shook his head. “Stuart already put them on my tab.”
“You have a tab?”
“His tab bought my new car,” Stuart said with a wink, and Declan groaned. The guy was making him sound way nerdier than he really was. Mostly.
“Okay,” Declan said to Suzanne, eager to change the subject, “I’ve shown you what I do for fun. How about you show me what you do?”
“I eat,” she said brightly. “Every day I like to do something new. Breakfast in Toronto, lunch in Paris, dinner in Shanghai.”
“Every day, huh?” he teased. “Do you have a personal transporter that beams you from place to place?”
“Oh, uh, no. I mean, I’d love to do that every day. I, ah, go out a lot here in Dallas. But I do love to travel as much as possible.” She checked her watch. “And look at that. It’s lunch time. Why don’t we go to Top?”
“Good idea. I can’t think of a safer place to eat, actually.” Not when a considerable number of staff members or their spouses had military training.
Even better, in a public setting full of people he knew, he’d be too busy to fantasize about Suzanne in the shower.
Probably.
* * * *
Suzanne really loved the atmosphere at Top, but it was less about decor and more about the staff and the food. The moment she and Declan stepped inside the restaurant, the aroma of the savory beef lunch special made her smile, and the hearty greeting for both of them by several staff members filled her with warmth that reminded her of life with her human family.
She loved her angel brothers and sisters, but to say there was much in the way of warm fuzzies from them would be a gross overstatement.
They were seated immediately at one of the best tables, and they both ordered the lunch special. While they waited for their prime rib French dips, Declan told her funny stories about his experience at the comic book convention, but when she asked about his experiences in the military or growing up, he evaded the questions or gave vague, generic responses.
When the food came, he changed the subject, asking questions about her past and plans for the future, both topics making her extremely uncomfortable. Yes, she had most of her bases cove
red when it came to her backstory, but she tried to stay as close as she could to the truth, not only for the ease of remembering her story, but because she hated lying to Declan.
Her plans for the future were a bit more complicated, in part because she couldn’t tell him the truth, and in part because her path forward, planned for her since the moment she was conceived, wasn’t what she wanted anymore.
It was something she admitted to herself when she said it out loud to Declan.
“I used to have my life planned out,” she sighed. “But a few things have happened recently to make me question my plans.”
“Like what?”
Like you. “Someone I cared about died unexpectedly,” she said, her voice catching in her throat as she thought about Meera. “There were so many things she wanted to do, and now she’ll never get that chance.”
He finished the last bite of his lunch and took a drink of tea. “So how does that change your future plans? You seem to have the time and money to do whatever you want.”
God, she wanted to tell him everything. No, I can’t do whatever I want. I was born into the service of Heaven and I’ve been told I have no choice in the matter and that to stray from that path would be selfish. But dammit, I want to be selfish. I want to have a cooking show and I want to have love. What I don’t want is to be a Heavenly warrior.
She damned near fell out of her chair as the truth hit her like a blow.
She didn’t want to be Memitim.
Fortunately, she was spared from having to think too hard on that revelation when Deena appeared at the table with a tray in her hands.
“I brought you a special treat.” She placed a shot glass, filled to the brim with three layers of liquid in front of each of them. “Linc invented a new drink, and we’re having a contest to name it, but the word ‘top’ has to be in it. Give it a try. So far, the frontrunners are Top Heavy and Woman on Top.”
Shaking his head, Declan pushed his drink toward Suzanne. “I can’t. I’m on duty and I’m driving Suzanne’s Jag. But I’m sure Suzanne can come up with a name for both of us.”
Alcohol was another one of those things that was originally forbidden to Memitim, but over time the rules had loosened, and it was now generally agreed that wine was okay, but not hard alcohol. But Suzanne was over being Memitim, over all the dumb rules, and if she was going to break one, she might as well break them all.
Or, at least, the fun ones.
She eyed Declan, her feminine senses locked onto all that raw, untamed masculinity, and knew, without a doubt, that sex with him would be one of those rules that would be fun to break.
For now though, she picked up one of the little glasses. “I would be honored to try your alcoholic creation, Deena.”
She knocked it back, taking it all like a pro. At least, she felt like a pro for all of three seconds. And then the burn made her eyes water and her breath feel like dragon fire.
“Does the word ‘top’ really have to be in the name?” she wheezed. “Because I’m thinking it should be called a Burning Oil Slick.”
Deena laughed. “You don’t drink hard alcohol much, do you?”
She shook her head and eyed the remaining glass like it was full of demon piss. But hey, she was a demon slayer, of sorts, wasn’t she? She could slay that drink like a champ.
“Let’s try this again.” Bracing herself, she drained the second glass. This time she barely wheezed.
I’m a big girl now!
She laughed at that thought and it occurred to her that she could already feel the alcohol bubbling in her veins. Hmm, maybe there was a reason Memitim were supposed to avoid liquor.
“Well,” Deena said, “what do you think now?”
“I think I shouldn’t have a third,” Suzanne said, even though she kind of wanted one. “But thank you. And thank you for lunch. It was awesome as usual.”
Deena picked up their empty dishes and stacked them neatly on her tray. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever shown you around. Would you like to see the kitchen?”
Suzanne nearly bounded out of her seat. “Would I? Yes, please!”
Deena signaled for Dec and Suzanne to follow. And as expected, the kitchen was amazing, with top-of-the-line appliances and cookware. The stainless steel prep tables gleamed and the floor was so clean she was afraid to step on it. Compared to the huge kitchens she worked from in Sheoul-gra, this one was small, but it was less industrial and far more personalized, from the group photographs of the staff through the years hanging on the walls, to the white board that contained not only the daily specials, but also comic artwork from the line chefs.
Suzanne inhaled the delicate saffron aroma coming from a steaming stockpot and admired the precision Macon was using to decorate a fruit tart. She could happily hang out here all day and just take notes.
Someone banged a door against her, which earned that someone a sharp word from Deena, but Suzanne barely noticed, too preoccupied by what she’d glimpsed on the other side of the door before it closed.
“Ooh, is that the famous supply closet I’ve heard about?” She started toward it, and each step was like walking in a crooked funhouse. Was the alcohol really affecting her so quickly? The pleasant tingles spreading over her skin said yes.
“It’s not that exciting,” Deena called out as she checked her phone. “Oh, hey, Declan, can you finish the tour for me? I’ve got something to take care of.”
“Sure thing. If we don’t see you before we leave, thanks for everything. See you later.”
Suzanne waved and reached for the door knob. As the door swung open, she wasn’t sure what she expected, but a boring closet entirely full of cleaning supplies and toilet paper wasn’t it.
“You look disappointed,” Declan said, his big body so close to hers that she felt the heat pouring off of him. “Were you expecting a sex swing or whips and fuzzy handcuffs hanging on the wall?”
Yes.
“No.” She stepped into the little room and wondered how people managed to have sex in such a small space. “I’m just trying to work out the mechanics. Come inside with me.”
“Suzanne—”
She grabbed his arm and tugged him inside, using her empty hand to close the door behind him. He bumped up against her, his hips meeting hers, his chest pressing into her breasts, and her skin got hot all over.
“You’re freakishly strong,” he muttered as he stepped back.
For a human, yes. For a Memitim...meh. She was average. Her best fighting skill was her speed. And her sharp-as-a-scythe wit.
She giggled, because she didn’t normally think of herself as being particularly witty. The alcohol was kicking her angelic ass. And why was it so hot in here?
Declan gave her a funny look. “Are you okay?”
“Absolutely.” She put her palm just above the neckline of her low-cut blouse and nearly moaned at the heightened sensitivity of her skin. “I feel tingly, like there are bubbles in my blood.” Reaching over, she took his hand and replaced hers with his. “Can you feel it?”
Those incredible gray eyes became smooth, dark pools of molten metal, and around her, all the shelves laden with paper towels and cleaning supplies seemed to fall away, leaving her sole focus on the man standing mere inches from her. The muscles in his throat rippled as he swallowed, his gaze locked with hers, his hand burning her skin like a brand.
Her shoulders twitched, the wing anchors aching as if trying to release wings she didn’t even have yet. But instinct was strong, compelling within her a need to extend her nonexistent wings and wrap them around Declan in the possessive embrace of angels. The ache intensified, her stupid body insisting on something she couldn’t do. But at the same time another sweeter ache began to throb in her pelvis, spreading up to her breasts and deep into her core.
“Suzanne...” he trailed off as she stepped closer.
“Can you feel it?” she repeated, but now she wasn’t talking about the bubbles in her blood. She was talking about what was going on bet
ween them. Right here in this closet.
“Yes,” he rasped.
Time stood still for a moment, their gazes locked. His jaw clenched, the muscles twitching, the tendons in his neck straining as if he was reaching deep inside for control. Control she didn’t want. She wanted him to unleash everything he had on her. Everything.
“Declan,” she whispered.
As if his name was the key to breaking him, he abruptly hauled her against him and covered her mouth with his.
Oh, sweet Heaven, his lips were magic, and now she tingled for reasons other than alcohol. Well, it was still mostly alcohol, because damn it was hot and the room was spinning.
“Come on,” he breathed against her lips. “I need to get you home.”
“Why?” She hooked her leg around his thigh, holding him where he was, keeping the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her. “I like it here.” She swore she heard him curse, which was super cute. “But it’s hot. I need to take off some clothes.”
“Ah...hey, I have an idea.” He gently peeled her off of him, but mostly she was just messing with him. She might be drunk, but she did not want to get caught in an awkward situation at the restaurant she frequented so often she might as well move in. “Let’s wait to do that at home, okay?”
“Promise?”
“I promise to let you take off all the clothes you want.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” She was not messing with him about that at all.
He cursed again, and all she could do was smile.
Chapter Eight
Heart pounding and body buzzing with unquenched lust, Declan somehow got Suzanne into her car and buckled in without mauling her against the side of it. He’d practically had to drag her out of the restaurant, but she sat quietly as he settled into the driver’s seat and started for her place. She stayed quiet for a few minutes, so silent and still he thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she turned to him, as perky as ever and showing no signs that she’d nearly gotten him to try out the sex closet.