Page 68 of His Angel

He rests his chin against the top of my head, his fingers interlocking beneath my breasts, and where I thought it might be cloying and suffocating, it’s protective and reassuring.

“I don’t want to fight you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I admit with a contented sigh. “Are you?”

“You’re good, Jacob’s good, so I’m good.” But still, he doesn't let go, the two of us soaking in the moment before he places a kiss on my head and releases me. “Go, before I whisk you upstairs and have my wicked way with you.”

The words are a delicious promise, one I know he’d happily follow through with, but right now I just want to decompress. And check on Tamsin.

“I’ll see you later on,” I say by way of a reply.

“Let me know you get back, and that they’re at your place, okay?” he says, releasing me to catch my gaze, turning me in the process. “Your safety is important to me too, yeah.”

His fingers burn against my chin as he grabs it and tilts, all the sexual tension that’s been sizzling away focusing on that single point of contact, his gaze penetrating.

“I understand.”

“Now be a good girl and go check on your friend.” He winks.

Amusement sparkles through the brown in his eyes, and his mouth tips up in a smile as heat pools low in my belly.That phrase. Never in my life have I considered a praise kink, but the words ‘good girl’coming from those sinful lips do it for me in a big way.

He releases my chin, eventually, and I step back on wobbly legs, heading out of the glass doors and down the steps. These gardens are extensive and lined by the woods that head down the driveway, but the patio, pool, and path to our house are well-kept and quiet, and before I realise it, I’m sliding open the glass door leading into our living room.

I love sitting in here on an evening, watching the sun sink behind the trees, the orange, pink, or red hues cascading across the canopy before turning dark and the evening drawing in, but I’m suddenly conscious of how exposing it also is.

With a shudder, I close the door, calling, “Honey, I’m home.” The last thing I need is to walk in to the two of them at it, but maybe they’re not here yet. The house is quiet.

I cross the room and knock on our door twice, covering my eyes before pushing down on the handle.

“I can’t see anything,” I say, entering, but no one answers.

The silence that echoes around the room is unnerving.She should be here.Placing my mask on the vanity, my heel catches on the box and I uncover my eyes, picking the stupid thing up and placing it on the table. But something isn’t right.

She’s not here with Taylor, or at the desk working. She’s not laid out on the bed with her headphones on, and the room feels empty. Vapid.

Her throw no longer lays haphazardly across the end of the bed, and as I look at her vanity, it’s clear. The panic sets in quickly as I rush to the wardrobe, flinging back the doors to the empty space as a chill creeps over my skin.

My heartbeat thunders in my ears as my stomach twists, heat rushing over me.She’s gone.

Grabbing my phone from the side, I pull her up and press dial.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Call ended.

What the fuck?

Panic courses through my veins, a reality that I couldn’t possibly fathom stretching out in front of me. She’s not gone. She can’t be.

She changed her mind. Decided to move into one of the suites with Taylor after all…. That’s all.

I pull her parents number up, her mum first and then her dad, but all have the same answer.

Beep. Beep. Beed. Call ended.

I can’t get hold of any of them. Blocked.

But why, if she isn’t gone?

The panic I was pushing down, twists, and heaves, and I turn, grabbing the nearest bin and emptying the contents of my stomach into it, acid creeping up the back of my throat as I heave everything away, a cold sweat settling across my shoulders and down my spine.

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