Unexpected Angel Read online

  Before I know what is happening, Dylan places his hands on my hips and presses me against the back wall of the elevator. I want to protest, to tell him to get his hands off me, but he silences my words as his mouth crashes against mine.

  (Dylan)

  I need Tasha to understand what I have been trying to tell her and words aren’t working. When she bites out the protest, once again, that she isn’t mine, I want nothing more than to pin her hands over her head and pound into her right here in the elevator. I want to bury my aching cock so deep inside of her that there is no question that our bodies belong together. I want to, but I also know that when I do finally claim her, it won’t be a quick fuck in a moving elevator. When the time comes, I want to take her body because she trusts me enough to give herself to me and I will savor every inch of her silky skin.

  As I reach for her, my mind flashes to her reaction earlier in the day when I playfully grabbed her wrists and my hands drop to the gentle curves of her hips instead. Before she can say another word, my mouth covers hers, taking advantage of her slightly parted lips. I feel her body tense beneath my hands and I start to back away. No matter how much my body tells me to continue, I will never force myself on her.

  Surprising me once again, Tasha’s arms wrap around my neck. Her own movements are tentative, as if her body and her brain are at war on how to proceed. When her tongue slides between my parted lips and she lets out a gentle moan, I weave my fingers into her blonde waves, keeping her mouth close to mine. With my other hand, I pull her hips close to mine, letting her feel the erection begging for freedom from behind my zipper.

  Knowing she is a willing participant, our kiss turns desperate. I want to remember everything about her, the way her tongue delicately explores my mouth, the fruity taste of the gum she was chewing earlier.

  All too soon, the elevator stops on the top floor and the doors open. Rather than allow any space to come between us, I grab Tasha’s ass and lift her off the ground. Her legs wrap around my waist and I smile, knowing she is just as into this as I am.

  “What’s so funny?” She asks, her lips still pressed to mine.

  I shake my head, not wanting anything to ruin the moment. “Nothing, Precious.” I shift her body in my arms, pressing her against the door long enough to dig the keys out of my pocket.

  Once inside, I set her down on my leather couch, leaving her with one more kiss before retreating to the kitchen. Tommy will be here any minute and I’m not about to have him interrupt anything between us.

  (Tasha)

  How Dylan can turn from hot to cold faster than the flick of a light switch is beyond me. One minute, he has me pressed up against any vertical surface he can find, grinding his hips against me and the next, I am sitting alone in his living room while he rummages through the refrigerator.

  “Drink this,” Dylan commands, handing me a bottle of water. I stare at the thin plastic bottle, trying to figure out what I did to cause the cool vibe I am getting from him now. He presses the bottle into my hand and I wrap my fingers around it.

  “Thank you,” I say quietly. Dylan nods and leaves the room again. Finally starting to think rationally, I begin to consider his proposition. The truth is that I’m not looking forward to going home. Until tonight, it was a cozy house that I had worked slowly to make my sanctuary. I can’t imagine feeling any peace there in the foreseeable future.

  Dylan’s voice echoes through the space. I can’t hear what he is saying, but from the few words I pick up, I know he is talking to someone about me. His voice grows louder as he walks back to the living area. “Yeah, I’ll be back by Thursday night at the latest…I don’t know. I’m hoping to bump up that meeting so I can get back sooner, but it’s going to depend on when they get into town.”

  He sits down next to me, pulling my legs over his. As Dylan continues discussing his upcoming business trip, he unties my boots and slips off one and then the other. My head falls against the arm of the couch as his fingers slowly start massaging, alternating pressure, and tender caresses as he works his way from my toes down to the heel. My hand claps over my mouth when I moan in pleasure. He has obviously done this before.

  “Look, Tommy’s on his way over and then I have to get Tasha to bed. Call me tomorrow and we’ll work out the details.” He looks over at me with a heart-stopping smile. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Z, I knew I could count on you.”

  The call ends and he turns his body toward mine. “Zeke’s going to go over to your place tomorrow and take care of the locks. Leave your house keys on the kitchen counter and he’ll grab them if we’re still sleeping when he stops by in the morning.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” I protest. I already told him I would have the locks changed on Monday. Why should Zeke have to take time out of his weekend to do the work?

  “I thought we had come to an understanding,” Dylan groans. I might not know him well, but I am quickly learning he has little patience when it comes to what he wants to do. “I need to know it’s taken care of before I head out on Monday. Even if you call the office as soon as they open, that’s not early enough. I want to know the work is done and done right, so I asked Z to take care of it for me.”

  The adrenaline is wearing off and all I want to do is sleep. I have a feeling we could spend all night going around in circles on this particular topic, so I concede. “Does that mean I can go home once he’s done?”

  “I don’t want you to, but I can’t tie you to my bed and force you to stay here either.” I press my thighs together at the mention of him restraining me. I doubt it will ever be something I could allow anyone to do to me without having an anxiety attack, but I have read enough to know it sounds hot as hell in theory.

  The corner of his mouth turns up and I know he felt my reaction. “Do you want me to tie you to my bed?” His dark eyes are smoldering, almost as if he’s picturing what I would look like, spread eagle on his bed with my arms and legs tied to the corners of his bed.

  “No,” I say firmly.

  I don’t, do I? My breathing hitches as I think about it, but this time I’m not so sure it is panic taking over my body.

  “We’ll see about that.” His hands move up to my calf, gently kneading out the tension. I curse the denim keeping me from feeling the pads of his fingers pressing into my flesh. I want to forget about the past few hours and I can’t think of any better way than feeling his hands traveling higher on my legs, caressing my thighs before slowly making their way to my core. Tonight, I want him to give me a release powerful enough to eclipse the one I had just thinking about him this morning. I want to scream his name as I come, not worrying about who will hear me.

  “But as I was saying,” he continues. “I would prefer you don’t go home. What I said earlier stands; I want you here where there’s security. On the other hand, I can’t force you to do anything against your will, so I need to give myself peace of mind in case you do go back to your place the minute I leave.”

  I’m through fighting him on this subject, at least for tonight. We can talk about it again in the morning.

  (Dylan)

  While Tasha gives Tommy the information he needs to complete the police report, I retrieve her bags from my car. I want to hear what they are saying, but I know it will drive me crazy. I need to remind myself that Tommy will handle everything properly and do what he can to find out who did this.

  The elevator doors open and I meet Tommy on his way out of my condo. “Hey, what are your thoughts?” I ask now that we are alone.

  Tommy glances over his shoulder making sure no one is listening in. “My gut says it’s someone she knows. I can’t prove anything yet, but you can bet your ass I’ll be talking to her ex tomorrow. He has a key and it seems a bit odd that this happened the first night she didn’t stay at her place.”

  If Tommy finds out it was her ex and makes the mistake of telling me, the sorry fucker had better pray the cops lock his ass up, otherwise he is going to be getting an unpleasant visit. “Thanks again. L
et me know what you find out?”

  Tommy shakes his head. “Not if it’s going to land your ass on my bad side. But don’t worry; we’ll be looking out for your girl.” We shake hands and I stand in the hall until the elevator doors close. I can’t blame Tommy for not promising to keep me in the loop. He’s one of the most perceptive people I know, which is just part of what makes him a damn good cop.

  By the time I lock the front door behind me, Tasha is on the couch, curled up with both hands resting under her cheek. Maybe I should throw a blanket over her and leave her to sleep, but I want her next to me. I carry her down the hall, gently placing her on the bed.

  Her hand clamps over mine as I reach for the button on her jeans. “Not having sex with you,” she mumbles.

  “Never said you were, Precious,” I whisper in her ear. Being this close to her, I can’t resist the urge to feel her skin against mine. I trail kisses from her ear to the base of her neck. “I’m going to take off these jeans so you’re more comfortable.”

  She lifts her hips, allowing me to slide the dark denim down her legs. That is my first mistake because I can smell her sweet musk as I reach around her body and I want to taste her. If I dip my fingers beneath her satin panties, I have no doubt they would slide through the arousal pooling there.

  Before I can do something that we will both regret, I practically launch myself off the bed. I’ve been walking around all day hard for her but I can’t use her to satisfy my own need.

  Hiding like a teenager afraid of being caught by his mom, I lean against the vanity in the bathroom, unzipping my jeans to free the erection that has been begging for relief since this morning. With long strokes, I close my eyes and imagine Tasha taking me into her mouth. God, I want to look down and watch my cock disappearing between those pretty, pink lips. Feel her fingers cupping my balls, the nails gently scraping across my sensitive skin.

  I think about how her body would look splayed naked across my bed as I bury myself inside her sweet pussy. I can almost hear her moaning as I plunge deep. I would come hard thinking about everything I want to do to her.

  My pace increases, pre-come seeping from the tip, lubricating my hand. I know I’m getting close when my balls tighten, sending a tingle through my spine. I jerk myself hard and fast, thinking about Tasha’s heat tightening around me as we come together. I come hard, shooting stream after stream into the sink.

  As I start coming down from my explosive orgasm, I realize I hadn’t been imagining her moaning. I crack the door open and see Tasha lying on my bed, her hand obscured by the red satin I had been so tempted to remove. Up and down, her fingers work their way through her folds before circling her clit. Her hips jerk off the bed and I know she is getting close.

  Quietly, I make my way to the bed, not wanting to embarrass her. I lean over her, claiming her mouth once again as I slide my own hand over hers. She feels fucking amazing. When she doesn’t back away, I reach up to remove her panties as I turn her body so her legs are straddling my chest.

  “Need to taste you, Precious,” I warn as I pull her closer.

  “No sex,” Tasha pants, even as she scoots closer to the edge of my mattress.

  “Not even if you beg,” I assure her, knowing damn well I am going to have her begging me to give her more very soon.

  “Gee, thanks.” She starts to move her body away from mine, so I pin her thighs to the mattress.

  “I think you misread me, baby,” I groan. “You want it, the time will come when I take every inch of your body you’re willing to give me.” I take my time kissing my way from her knee to juncture between her hip and her thigh. “But it’s not going to be tonight. Tonight’s all about you. I want to make you feel good.”

  (Tasha)

  My head jerks off the bed as I feel his tongue slide between the folds of my dripping wet pussy. He doesn’t focus on my clit in an attempt to make me come quickly. No, he seems to be licking everywhere except where I want to feel his tongue. Before Dylan, I never saw the fascination in oral sex. Now, I have seen the light. Not to sound greedy, but I want to feel him there forever.

  He laps at my pussy as if he wants to consume every drop of moisture I can give him. I buck as I feel him enter me, first with one finger and then another. When he slowly pushes into me with a third finger, his tongue begins flicking my swollen clit as he curls his fingers to find the tender spot inside of me. My body clenches around him as I climax, screaming his name.

  “Fuck,” he groans without pulling away from my body. “You’re so fucking tight, Precious.”

  “Dylan,” I cry out. “I need more. I need you inside me.” If I wasn’t still so turned on to the point I feel ready to explode again, my own pleading would mortify me.

  I think I am about to get what I want when I feel Dylan move away from me. He shifts me on the bed again, this time so my head is back on the pillows as he hovers over me. “I told you, Precious…” He leans down to kiss me, his lips wet and swollen. I can taste myself on him and it doesn’t disgust me like I thought it would. I pull him down so his weight presses against my chest, my mouth locked against his.

  “Please,” I beg. “I need you, now.”

  Dylan rolls over so he is lying on the bed next to me. “Sleep, my precious angel.” He pulls my body against his. It feels amazing, but I still want more. “When I take you, it’s going to be because you belong to me, not because I have you so worked up you can’t think straight.”

  Is he for real? After giving me the single best orgasm of my life, he wants me to roll over and go to sleep?

  “Can I at least take care of you?” I ask, knowing I won’t get him to change his mind about sex, no matter how much my body aches for him to screw me into next week.

  “No,” he says firmly. “Tonight was for you. Now go to sleep.”

  As much as I hate Dylan telling me what to do, I do exactly what he demands this time. And somehow, on the heels of a night that has me scared and confused, I sleep like a baby, safely wrapped in Dylan’s arms.

  (Tasha)

  Sunday morning, shortly after Zeke picked up my house keys, I promised Dylan I would stay at the condo while he is gone so he won’t worry about me. A quick Google search while he was in the shower told me he is a pretty big deal in the Madison entertainment scene and I don’t want my drama messing up his success. After everything he has done for me in such a short time, I figure it’s the least I can do for him.

  That doesn’t stop me from driving to my house Monday after I am done with work. I’m not trying to break my promise to him, but running seems to be the worst thing I can do. I’m an independent woman and I’m not going to let anyone break me down again. When I check the rearview mirror for something like the hundredth time in five miles, I decide I’m being paranoid. It’s the middle of the day and everyone is driving home from work. There’s no one watching me.

  After checking both the knob lock and the dead bolt twice as soon as I am inside, I still find myself jumping at the slightest sound; branches creaking in the wind outside my kitchen window, a loud muffler on the street, even children shrieking with delight, everything has my heart racing faster.

  When it gets so bad I double over with my fingers clenching the edge of my kitchen counter, I know it is time to get out. But how am I supposed to do that when the fear has me trapped in a small room at the back of my house?

  After two rings, Holly’s phone goes to voicemail. Not instantly, as it would if the phone was off, and not after four rings as it normally does when she doesn’t hear it ringing. That means she ignored the call. I try to push back my annoyance, reminding myself that she has a life outside of me. As I do, Dylan’s words replay in my mind. Holly and I are drifting apart. The moment I show the first sign that I will be able to make it on my own, she starts pulling away from me. My chest tightens, realizing how close I am to being completely alone.

  My shaking legs refuse to hold me upright any longer and I lower myself until I am slouched in the corner of my kitchen.
I stare at my phone, praying Holly will return my call, but she never does. The sun is starting to set when I unlock my phone and scroll through the contact list. I don’t want to make the call, but I don’t know who else I can trust to help me in this situation.

  “Tasha, are you okay?” Zeke sounds genuinely concerned as he picks up on the first ring. I hate having to call him. He is Dylan’s best friend, and in less than a week, he has now seen me in some of my weakest moments.

  A quiet sob escapes my lips as I try to maintain a thread of composure. “Are you busy?”

  I remember his initial annoyance Saturday night when he had been coerced to leave a naked woman in order to help me. I don’t want to become that girl, the one who everyone counts on to interrupt at the worst possible moments because of her own drama and insecurity.

  “Nope, just sitting here reading a magazine. What’s up?”

  My head falls back against the lathe and plaster wall. He is my only option right now and Dylan assured me repeatedly before he left that Zeke wouldn’t hesitate if I needed him.

  “Can you come over to my house? I thought I would be fine coming home--”

  A sharp knock on the door makes me jump, trying somehow to become one with the wall behind me.

  “Zeke,” I cry out, no longer caring what he thinks about me. “Someone’s out there!”

  “Tasha, open the door,” Zeke’s voice booms. I can hear him through the phone, but his voice is also coming from the front of my house. “Tasha, I’m outside. Are you okay in there?”

  When I don’t respond, I hear the snick of the deadbolt turning seconds before the front door slams against the wall of my living room. Zeke’s heavy footsteps rush down the main hallway before doubling back. He stops short when he sees me cowered in the corner. “Tasha, what’s going on?” His voice becomes tender as he takes in my disheveled appearance and tear-stained cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, Zeke,” I sigh, ashamed that he is seeing me in such a state. There is only one person who has seen me in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. If it were Nick standing in the room with me, he would have yanked me off the ground telling me to get a grip. Zeke’s eyes show the same tender concern I had seen in Dylan’s after he grabbed my wrists the day after we met. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I just…”