Page 55 of Pitiful Lies

But even as I try to coach myself, Angel opens my door, holding his tattooed hand out to me, and my heart stutters inside my chest.

“You ready, Little Doll?”

Casual sex Angel was difficult to turn down. But this Angel? The attentive, seemingly sincere one. Well, he might be damn near impossible to resist.

Am I ready? There’s only one way to find out.

Gulp.

We enter from the back of the club, and I know it’s the Vipers’ private entrance.

Huge, hulking men who work under Angel line the hall and the entryways. Each door is opened for us, and I watch in awe as Angel’s mien turns from one of heated attention to complete and utter no nonsense.

I understand. These men have to respect him. He is the authority here, and he can’t go around grinning and looking soft for them the way he does for me.

There is something completely and totally sexy about the way he handles himself. He is so fucking hot.

And dumb or not, I feel special being the woman on his arm.

Angel’s presence is commanding. He moves with more grace than I imagined a man his size could.

Everything he does is with purpose.

He looks expensive.

Sexy.

Lethal.

He’s dressed in all black and the result is, well, it’s making me squirm. I feel lucky to be beside him. To be the one he chose.

His shirt and pants look like they are made of Italian linen.

They’re soft. I know because throughout our meal Angel kept finding ways to touch me. He sat beside me, not across.

The better to share, he said, and I had zero complaints about the situation.

I imagine his clothes feel nice and light in the warm September air. My skirt is tight, but the material is stretchy, and the loose, low-cut top makes up for it.

My clothes are nowhere near as expensive as his clothes, and I think about how different our lives are.

Angel looks incredible, and right now, in my heels and provocative outfit I think maybe we match. I mean, I hope we do. But then my thoughts stray to that skinny blonde, and I stumble my next step.

“Easy,” he murmurs, looking down at me with concern in his eyes as his hand grips my elbow.

Steadying me.

He’s so strong. Like velvet covered steel. His movements are so smooth as he rights my misstep.

I have one second to get my head on straight before Angel is already leading me through the crowd, to the table where Anna and Maria are already seated with their guys.

“Gurrllll! You look hot!” Anna says and stands to grab me in a hug.

Nico is watching her like a hawk, and it doesn’t escape my attention that Luc does the same when Maria tackle hugs me next.

Angel sits in an empty chair, his back to the wall, and the men all talk to each other in low voices. After we finish hugging it out, Anna, Maria, and I join them.

We sit boy girl, and I feel butterflies in my stomach. They’re both married and in love, and I am not sure what me and Angel are. But it’s not that.

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