Page 36 of Lips of an Angel

Our kiss last night could’ve easily been chalked up to being drunk. No, my judgment wasn’t usuallyimpaired when I was drinking—you had to learn to hold your liquor when you owned a bar—but when two people killed a bottle of tequila on their own, you could expect some fuckery to go down. However, past fuckeries had never involved kissing my deeply committed best friend.

And this morning, we’d both been stone-cold sober. Come to think of it, I’d never actually seen Angel act intoxicated. The man had a tolerance I would kill for. But alcohol couldn’t be blamed for that scene in the kitchen. When he leaned against the door and watched me jack myself off in the kitchen, there was only one thing driving his decision to watch: lust.

Angel avoided me the rest of the day. I understood that what happened between us bothered him, but he said he didn’t want to talk about it. He was meeting up with Eli. Ryder was chasing some extra hours and was willing to cover his shift, and I couldn’t find a valid reason to deny him. Trust me, I looked.

Angel’s absence didn’t stop him from running through my mind all day long. I was so distracted that even Ryder asked what was going on—I weaseled my way out of his questions. Until I figured out what was going on between Angel and I, it wouldn’t do any good to talk to anyone else.

He was still gone when I returned to the apartment. Frustrated, I kicked my shoes off at the door and moved for the bathroom to shower. The sound of keys in the door stopped me before I stepped into the hallway, and I turned in time to find Angel stepping into the apartment.

“Hi,” I said. “Can we talk?”

As expected, he shook his head—and then stormed across the room. “I don’t want to talk,” he signed. He fisted the collar of my shirt, hauling me in for a toe-curling kiss.

I should’ve argued. I should’ve pulled back and demanded an explanation, reminded him that he still had a boyfriend. I should’ve askedif he stillhada boyfriend, but—and I couldn’t stress this enough—I didn’t wantto.

Angel speared his tongue through my mouth, and every damn inhibition, every sense of morality I had, flew out the window. I wrapped my arms around his slender waist, pulling him into me. He fit in my arms like the last piece to a puzzle, molding into the curves of my body. Angel’s kiss was the polar opposite of last night’s: hungry, frantic, like I would vanish into thin air if we parted long enough to breathe. My hands started to roam, into his hair, curling around his hip. I cradled his head, hoping the small gesture gave him a sense of security I knew that he needed. He clenched my shirt until he broke the kiss to catch his breath, and I didn’t give him time to voice any regrets.

“I’ve got you, darling,” I whispered, stroking his cheek with the pad of my thumb. To my surprise, it came awaywet. I had a thousand questions about those tears, but that wasn’t what Angel needed at that moment. “What do you need?”

He whimpered, clinging to me even tighter. His answer was evident, despite the fact that he didn’t say a word. “You.”

“Okay, okay.” Tears poured down his cheeks, and I wiped them away as I gently shushed him, leaning in for another kiss. “I’m here.”

Our lips met, and I held him against me once more. Tongues tangled, the salt of his tears mingling with his natural taste. No longer afraid that I would push him away, he relaxed in my arms, winding his around my neck. With the difference between our heights, Angel had to tip his head back to kiss me.

It wasn’t enough. I needed more of him.

I moved, pushing him backward until his lower back hit the kitchen counter. Without missing a beat, I cupped my hands under his ass and lifted. He gasped, barely separating from the kiss before his lips were on mine again. After gently setting him on the countertop, I hooked my hands behind his knees and tugged, needing him flush against me. Angel moaned, breaking the kiss to tilt his head back, exposing his neck.

Don’t mind if I do.

I gratefully accepted the invitation, licking a stripe along the sensitive skin, and stopping to suck on the tender spot behind his ear. My tongue teased the tattoos peeking out from under his collar. My hands massaged his hips, which kicked forward to grind our hard lengths together.

“Goddamn, Angel,” I growled, nipping at his earring. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

A laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. I drew back long enough to take in the sight before me. Angel was thoroughly wrecked: His hair was a mess, his clothes disheveled. His lips were pink and swollen, and his eyes were equal parts lust and nerves.

Nerves, I noticed, but notfear. In fact, as I peered into the only pair of eyes I knew better than my own—eyes I’d been staring into for years—I saw something behind them that I sometimes took for granted.

Trust.

That look was reserved only for me. It made my chest warm, made my lips twist into a helpless smile. I loved being the one to take care of my best friend. That part was familiar, but there was something else in his eyes alongside it, and that part was new. It pulled all of the warmth in my chest downward.

Lust and trust. Was that what love looked like?

In that moment, I realized that he wasn’t the only one who wanted this. And if we were doing this, then I wanted to make it the best damn experience of his life.

Gently, I took his hand and brought the fingers to my lips, pressing a kiss to each tip. “Darling,” I cooed, “if you don’t want this, I need you to stop me now.”

I paused, giving him the chance to back out. Though I wasn’t sure he heard my words. His eyes were fixed on my mouth, where I teased each of his fingertips. When my tongue darted out to lap the pad of his index finger, he grinned and shoved the digit into my mouth.

Well, there was my answer.

I sucked the finger to the knuckle, happily taking a second one when he fed it to me and swirling my tongue around. I hummed around them, and he pushed deeper, pressing on the flat of my tongue. Seeing his reaction, I swallowed, suppressing the urge to gag. Angel moaned again and freed his fingers with apop, tugging my head forward. He paused just shy of my lips, rolling his body against mine. His whimper sent a wash of warm air over my mouth, and I smiled.

“Did you think I could do anything less, my Angel?” I murmured, grazing my nose along his jaw.

Angel shivered and his hips rocked forward, seeking friction. I helped him out of his jacket, then worked my hands beneath the hem of his T-shirt and hiked the fabric up. He took the hint and threw the shirt aside. Taking a reluctant step backward, I shed my own top.

---