Angel's Shield (7 page)

She stripped off her blouse, then headed for the bathroom,
wrapping a towel around herself to preserve her modesty. It was too hot for a
robe and she just wanted to get cool. She snuck into the bathroom and showered
quickly, her brain racing over the same thoughts over and over. She pulled on
clean underwear. Was Jeremiel an angel? Did she care? What did Haniel mean? She
was still chewing over the idea of being someone’s mate when she collided with
Jeremiel in the hall. She squeaked.

“Easy.” Jeremiel grabbed her arms as she grabbed the towel,
keeping it from sliding down.

Dear God, please let the earth swallow me up,
she thought, mortified at being
caught in a towel, almost naked.

“You okay?” he asked.

She chewed on her lip. He was flushed, probably from the argument
he’d had with Haniel. “Uh,” she said, staring at him. His blue eyes mesmerized
her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you,” he said, letting go.

She shivered at the loss of his hands. Was it her imagination or
did he look nervous, suddenly. “It’s okay.” She tried to go past him, but he
didn’t budge. He was big enough to block the hall and he stood there, staring
at her. “What?” she finally asked, defensive.

He shook his head. “Shit.”

What the hell? Charmeine had no idea why he was upset. This couldn’t
still be from the argument? She watched him look at her, his intense blue eyes
traveling down her body. She clutched at her towel, willing herself not to
blush.
No such luck,
she thought as his gaze burned holes in her
composure. Well, what was left of her mostly non-existent composure. Being so
close to him felt like standing on the edge of a cliff with an unbearable urge
to jump.

“Charmeine—” he croaked, just as she attempted to push by again,
but Haniel interrupted before she could bring herself to move.

“Do you realize how you’re looking at her?” he said to Jeremiel
from the top of the stairs.

Jeremiel’s head swiveled to his best friend. His expression went
from angry to sad to something so complicated she couldn’t even begin to figure
it out.

“This is what I’m talking about, you know.” Haniel climbed the
last step and moved closer. “You can’t help the way you feel, not at all.” He
looked at her, hazel eyes hot. “Neither can I.”

She took a nervous step back, hands twisted in her towel. “I have
no idea what you’re talking about.”

He sighed. “I know.” Then he reached for her, fingers tracing a
line of fire along her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

She frowned. Weren’t he and Jeremiel together? What was he doing?

“Stop,” Jeremiel said, sounding tortured.

Haniel’s fingers dropped away and he turned to his friend. “Why?”

Jeremiel closed his eyes. “Because I’m afraid you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right. What I don’t understand is why you’re so
reluctant,” Haniel said gently.

Jeremiel sighed. “My father wouldn’t understand this.”

Haniel pursed his lips angrily. A heartbeat passed. Then he blew
out his breath harshly. “Jeremiel, your father is dead. Gone to the winds. What
he thinks no longer matters. None of them matter. Not your parents, not mine.
They repudiated our people.”

Charmeine couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore.
The tension between the two men was palpable and frightening, but it also
called to her. Something about them touched the deepest recesses of her soul
and made her feel things she never thought she could. She swayed, light-headed,
and put a hand to the wall. The old wallpaper pricked her fingertips, but she
hardly noticed.

Haniel touched Jeremiel’s face the same way he’d touched hers and
abruptly, the two men were kissing, hot and heavy, not one foot away from where
she stood. She blushed, totally unable to look away, and then Haniel reached
out and drew her in, kissing her with just as much desperation as he’d kissed
Jeremiel.

Dear God, what is he
doing?
she thought
brokenly. Nothing would ever be the same again. She’d tried so hard not to want
him. Them. Her fingers tightened on her towel convulsively.
I don’t care if this is insane. I want this.
She threw herself into the kiss. He sensed her capitulation and groaned,
kissing deeper.

“Don’t stop,” she protested when he lifted his head, heat running
through her the way lava flows downhill, but then Jeremiel was there, mouth on
hers. She let him pull her closer, folding her body up against his until she
let go of the towel. He tasted like blue skies. Like freedom. She squirreled
closer, wanting to climb inside him. He licked into her mouth, nipping her lips
on the way in, and then Haniel pushed up against her back, squeezing her
between them. His cock was heavy and hard on her ass as he breathed hotly
against her neck.

“God, you smell so good, Charmeine,” he said, mouthing down her
shoulder.

She shuddered and tried to wrench her brain into gear. Was she
really doing this? What the hell was she doing? Her fingers dug into Jeremiel’s
arms. The marks on his skin felt hotter than the rest of him, as if they were
more than ordinary tattoos.

“I need—” Jeremiel began, but she kissed his words away. She
needed, too, and quite desperately. She needed answers and comfort and
assurance. She craved these things that she’d hadn’t had since her parents
died. Since her grandmother left her to fend for herself.

“Fuck,” Haniel said, grinding harder against her body. “Jeremiel,
bedroom.”

Jeremiel broke their kiss and she grabbed his hair, trying to
bring him back. In answer, he stepped back and picked her up, swinging her into
his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he stumbled, almost going
down, but Haniel held him up. Her towel fluttered to the floor. She didn’t
care.

“God, hurry,” Haniel said, forging ahead. He pulled off his shirt,
baring his shoulders and back. His torso rippled with muscle and more.
Charmeine stared. His back had the legacy marks of an angel. She’d only seen them
in a book.

“What are you?” she whispered.

He turned catching her eyes. His shoulders and left arm bore the
marks of an angel, too. She gasped.

“I’m broken,” he ground out. His face had twisted into anger, so
she struggled to get down, wanting to smooth all of his pain away.

Instead of letting her go, Jeremiel moved closer, tumbling her on
the bed as he grabbed Haniel’s arm.

“Stop it. There’s nothing broken about you,” he muttered, kissing
the unmarked skin of his friend’s right forearm gently.

Charmeine watched them, then moved in, too, as some dormant
instinct told her to touch them both. The moment she put her hands on them,
heat flared. She sucked in a breath and kissed Haniel on the mouth. He opened
to her, like a man drowning. Jeremiel stripped off his shirt and climbed on the
bed, arms around them both. She kissed Haniel as if it were the last time, or
possibly the first. Nothing made sense except the taste of him on her lips.
When Jeremiel leaned against her shoulder, she turned to him, seeking his
warmth. He kissed her, and then leaned back.

Charmeine put a fist against her chest to try and still the
frantic beating of her heart. He was lean and muscled and undeniably gorgeous.
His blue eyes crackled with heat. Looking at him, she couldn’t deny it anymore.
He was an angel, born and bred. His legacy marks swirled up his arms and over
his shoulders like ink on water. He let her look her fill, then nodded.

“Yes. I’m an angel,” he said quietly. He ran a finger up his arm,
then drew it down hers. She shivered. “So is Haniel.”

She turned to stare at him. His blonde hair slid across his
forehead as he looked away. “Not anymore, I’m not,” he said bitterly.

Jeremiel growled. “That is a lie. You are just as much an angel
now, as you were two years ago.”

“I can’t fly,” Haniel told Charmeine, as though she would care.
She didn’t. She was trying to internalize what they’d just said without making
a total fool of herself. A prick of awe ran through her, but she stifled it.
They were people before they were angels. And they were struggling through
something profound right in front of her. She licked her lips, working her way into
an underlying tragedy she didn’t quite understand. “I can’t fly either.”

Haniel went perfectly still. Jeremiel glanced at him, then took
her hands in his. “No, you can’t. And that doesn’t make you any less worthy of
love, does it?”

She blinked. Love? Was he serious?

“You’ve made your point, Jeremiel,” Haniel said, running fingers
down her back.

She shivered, abruptly remembering that she wore only a bra and
panties.

Haniel pressed his palm against her spine and she trembled. He was
so hot… She licked her lips again. Jeremiel’s eyes dilated and he swooped in,
kissing her. Haniel held her as she bowed back, then his clever fingers
unhooked her bra. She twisted, grabbing the fabric and flinging it away.
Jeremiel moved down, laving her nipples. She groaned, so aroused she couldn’t
think, and he nipped at her. Sparks ran through her skin and she writhed,
already close to orgasm.
God, how is this possible?
she wondered brokenly,
clinging to Haniel’s shoulders.

Jeremiel slipped away and undid his shorts. With one swift move,
he shoved them down. His cock stood straight out, thick and flushed. She
swallowed, wanting to taste him, but then Haniel shifted and hooked his fingers
into her panties.

“Can I take these off?” he asked, tugging at the lace.

She nodded, lifting her hips. When she was finally nude, a hint of
worry shot through her, but Jeremiel dropped to his knees and kissed up the
inside of her thigh so reverently that she trembled, overwhelmed.

“You smell incredible,” he muttered, moving up slightly.

I do?
She had no idea a guy would like the
way a woman smelled down there. She let him open her legs, trying not to show
how nervous she was. Her pussy throbbed. When his mouth reached her core, he
went still and simply breathed. She panted, hips jerking. Haniel’s arms went
around her ribs, holding her steady.

“Mmm, you like that?” he murmured into her ear.

She nodded, trying to get closer to Jeremiel. Her nerves be damned.
This felt too good to let her inexperience get in the way.

“Be still, and he’ll give you what you want,” Haniel said, low and
sexy.

Charmeine gripped his arms, burning up from the inside. “What’s
happening to me?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, Jeremiel flashed her a look fraught
with danger, then dipped his head. The moment his lips touched her clit, she
cried out, pleasure snapping through her like a firecracker.
Dear God, I’m cumming, and he hardly even
touched me!
she thought, shocked. He kissed her, then sucked on her clit,
drawing out the spasms. Her orgasm peaked, and then peaked again. When she
finally slumped down, he kissed her gently before moving up, cock bobbing.

“I need to be inside you,” he said, voice hoarse.

She nodded, still caught in the aftershocks. She couldn’t move
right now if she wanted to. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Haniel gently
positioned her on the bed so he could strip off his shorts. When he was naked,
he helped shove pillows under her head. His cock was shorter than Jeremiel’s,
but thicker. Her mouth watered as heat began to spiral through her again. “Oh
my God,” she whispered as he pressed close, cock against her arm. She reached
over, closing her fingers around him. He groaned and she coaxed him closer,
until he touched her lips. When she opened to him, he clenched his fists and
threw back his head.

“Jesus,” Jeremiel said, hands on her thighs. “Look at you.”

She didn’t know if he meant her or Haniel, and she didn’t care.
She sucked on the tip, exploring his flavor. She’d often wondered what this was
like. Haniel tasted hot, like the sun when it heated rocks along the ridgeline
of the mountains above her home. She drew him in, wanting more. When Jeremiel’s
prick bumped her entrance, she moaned around the shaft in her mouth. Haniel
groaned. He was looking down at her now, eyes wild. She licked around the crown
as Jeremiel rocked into her little by little. He was almost too thick for her,
but he went slow.

“You’re so tight,” he said.

Charmeine didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was a virgin.
She deliberately sucked harder, keeping her mouth occupied. She didn’t want
anything to stop this, not now. Maybe not ever.

Chapter Six

Jeremiel gritted his teeth, not wanting to hurt Charmeine, but
God, she felt so good. So perfect for him. He glanced at Haniel and revised his
thought. So perfect for
them.
Her hair was a mess and her skin flushed,
and she’d never been so beautiful. He rocked into her gently. Carefully. When
his dick met a soft barrier, he frowned, looking down at her. When he didn’t
move, she pulled off of Haniel, licking her lips.

“Don’t stop,” she said quietly.

He rocked forward, and again his cock met resistance. No. It
couldn’t be…