• • •
Mark looked at his watch and wondered what was keeping Crystal. He’d never admit the number of times that he’d looked out the window tonight thinking he heard her car—then swallowed a pang of disappointment when he was wrong. He got to his feet, intending to have a drink of something strong enough to take his mind off her when his phone chimed with a text. Rough night. Tired so needed to come home. Talk soon. What in the ever-loving fuck? She was standing him up? So this is what the other side of things feels like. He read her words again, looking for some hidden meaning. Was she blowing him off because she wasn’t interested, or had her bitch of a mother upset her? Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and walked out to his Porsche. He wasn’t some boy who was left hanging by a woman. He’d told her to come to him tonight, and he damn well planned to find out why she hadn’t. If he found her lounging in front of the TV looking calm and relaxed, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.
He was pissed when he pounded on her door. He had gone beyond that after a few minutes when there was no reply. He called her phone and it went immediately to voice mail. He was rapping on the door one last time, when he heard the security chain inside rattling. Then the door was flung open and a fully dressed—and quite angry—woman glared at him from inside the doorway. Crystal’s clothing was wrinkled and her hair was sticking up in every direction—but, fuck, she looked beautiful. She opened her mouth, obviously intent on blasting him, but he stepped forward, pushing his way inside. Her shriek of outrage made his ears ring, but he ignored it. Instead of replying, he pushed her backward against the nearest wall and fastened his lips on hers. He ate at her mouth as if starving for her taste. She resisted for a moment before giving in with a groan of her own. “Angel,” he breathed against her lips as he sucked her tongue into his mouth.
He had no idea how he managed it—possibly he was more talented than he knew, but almost before he could process it, they were both naked. Her legs wrapped around his waist, he was inches away from plunging into her when he remembered the condom. He cursed, extricating himself from their embrace and then feeling for his pants. As he pulled a condom from his wallet, he thanked whatever god was responsible for ensuring every guy over the age of fifteen had a rubber stored somewhere on him at all times. Her nails were raking his back in impatience as he deftly sheathed himself. His Angel was somewhat of an animal when she was turned on and he loved it. He’d proudly bear the marks of her eagerness tomorrow. “Now, please, Mark,” she cried out, the impatience in her voice snapping his tenuous control. He hooked her leg around his hip and drove into her hard. “Yes!” she screamed as he pounded her greedy core. He was close, so he dropped his hand to rub her clit, but before he could make contact, she contracted around his cock as she came. Damn, this woman had no idea what a sexual creature she was. He’d yet to touch her when she wasn’t eager, wet, and damn near halfway to orgasm before he penetrated her.
She was slumped against him once he found his release, and he used what little reserves he had left to follow her sleepy directions to the bedroom. He held her with one hand while stumbling along until he made contact with the lamp on her bedside table. He flipped it on, and then deposited her gently onto the bed. She immediately curled a hand under her cheek and shut her eyes. He located her bathroom and some washcloths. Returning, he cleaned between her legs and tossed the cloth toward the bathroom before flipping the light off. “Angel, baby, move over,” he murmured against her cheek as he attempted to shift her lax body.
“I love it when you do that,” she mumbled.
“What?” he asked as he finally managed to wedge in beside of her.
“Wash me. No one’s ever taken care of me like that,” she said softly before throwing a leg over his and collapsing on his chest.
He shifted until he had her cradled in his arms. He ran a hand idly through her dark tresses, rubbing her scalp soothingly. He didn’t know if she was asleep yet, but he couldn’t resist asking, “What happened at your parents’ tonight, baby?”
There was nothing but silence for at least a full minute, and then she sighed. “It was a setup. I didn’t find out until I was already there that Ella wasn’t invited. Instead, my ex-husband showed up shortly after I arrived. My mother is still determined that I go back to him, and she never misses an opportunity to throw us together.” When she hissed, “Ouch,” he realized that his hand had tightened painfully in her hair.
“Sorry, Angel,” he said as he forced himself to relax once again. He’d never even met the woman, but he wanted to strangle her meddling mother. Curious, he asked, “Why didn’t you just leave?”
Her finger drew circles on his chest, making his cock twitch to life. It was getting to the point that if she even looked in his direction, he was hard. He’d jacked off more in the last few days while thinking of her than he had in years. He was so distracted when she finally answered him that he had to ask her to repeat herself. “It’s always been easier to go with the flow and not rock the boat. Dad called it humoring her. Ella and I learned long ago that it was pointless to argue and that it just prolonged our misery if we did.”
Blowing out an exasperated breath, he said, “Angel—that’s not humoring her, that’s being subservient. Plus, you’re divorced now. Why in the world would she think it was okay for her to continue to invite your ex-husband over? If they have a close relationship, then she should see him when you aren’t there. Unless you want him back.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he fought the urge to get up and leave the room in a show of anger.