Page 17 of Pitiful Lies

“Triple that order, pal, and put it on this,” Angel says, and his voice sounds deep and serious.

Maybe even annoyed. I grin to myself. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it.

I walk away from where Angel is still waiting for his credit card and find a table close by so we can hear when the food is ready.

His pale blue eyes look hard as he takes the seat across from me.

“I’m only going to say this once, Sisi. When you’re with me, I pay, understand?”

Ooh.

I guess I hit a nerve. And I’m not going to pretend I don’t like seeing him riled up, because I do.

So, I narrow my eyes, and I reach into my pocket, pulling out a twenty. I drop it on the table.

“Hate to break it to you, but I have a job, and I have my own money. I don’t need any man to pay my way. Especially not one I’m through with,” I tell him.

Angel leans over the table, and I swear his chest is rumbling like he’s some kind of wild animal.

My breath hitches in my throat as he takes my chin in hand, forcing my eyes to remain on his.

I feel hunted.

Stalked.

And the moisture in my panties is telling me it’s not all bad being the object of a man’s attention. That man in particular.

But I can’t give in. I won’t. Angel is a player and I’m through with getting my heart stomped on.

So, I grit my jaw and refuse to take the bait.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Koukla. I’m not any man. I’m Angel fucking Fury and we ain’t through until I say so, Little Doll.”

He picks up the twenty and looks down my body before stuffing it back in my pocket with his free hand. I hold his stare when the tips of his fingers press close to my aching sex.

Angel hums deep in his throat. And fuck me, pretending it doesn’t have an effect is taking all my concentration.

Someone calls out our order number and Angel grunts and lets go of my chin, satisfied he had the last word, I guess.

I close my eyes and suck in a breath. The spicy notes of his aftershave fill my nostrils, and I swear my pussy clenches at memories of his scent on my skin.

I don’t know why he’s doing this or saying things like that to me, but I need to come up with some sort of plan to protect myself.

If I don’t, Angel Fury is likely to rip my heart right out of my chest. And this time, I am not so sure I’ll survive.

“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength,” Angel says, interrupting my reverie as he drops a tray laden with heavenly scented food in front of me.

He sits down, taking a smoked chicken wing in his big tatted up hands and sticks the entire thing in his mouth, pulling out the bone clean.

Angel moans.

Fuck. Me.

CHAPTER FOUR-ANGEL

It’s about twenty hours back home and we have a long way to go. But the roads are pretty clear, and I am enjoying the company so far.

Of course, if I really wanted to, I could drive us back to the Garden State tonight.

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