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Authors: Janet Nissenson

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Her twenty third birthday was in late July, but thus far she hadn’t even begun to make any plans to celebrate. Her relationship with her family these days was strained – to put it mildly – and she knew better than to expect her mother or sisters to organize any sort of celebration for her.
The weekend after Gabriella’s wedding – and the huge, nasty scene with her mother – Angela had reluctantly made her usual phone call home. Predictably, Rita had acted as though their fight had never happened, once again sweeping all the unpleasantness under the carpet. Their phone call had been brief and impersonal as it always was, and Angela knew her mother would never willingly bring the subject up again.
And Rita had evidently not shared the details of their blow-up with Marisa and Deanna, for Angela knew she’d have heard all about it from her sisters otherwise. But they were rather obviously still pissed at her for skipping both of their birthday celebrations because neither of them had made any mention of getting together for her own birthday. Their parents were leaving on a two-week Mediterranean cruise a few days before her birthday, and Angela couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had planned their departure date intentionally. Her father, clueless as he was, never seemed to remember important dates like birthdays so he would have willingly gone along with whatever Rita told him to do – as usual.
By the day before her birthday, Angela had more or less resigned herself to celebrating the occasion alone. There’d still been no word from her sisters, not even a card or an email greeting; her parents were cruising somewhere in Italy; Lauren was on assignment in Nova Scotia; and because she was so paranoid about keeping her schedule free in case Nick called and wanted to see her, she’d more or less alienated all of her friends and co-workers by now, so she certainly couldn’t count on any of them to celebrate with her.
And it had been more than a week now since she’d seen or heard from Nick, a state of affairs that concerned her far, far more than the idea of spending her birthday alone. She wasn’t even sure if he knew it was her birthday tomorrow, given his overall dislike of all things sentimental. She’d never dared to bring the subject up, and didn’t know when his own birthday was.
On the actual day, she received email greetings from Lauren, Julia, and their mother Natalie, and Angela found it both sad and ironic that the McKinnons had remembered her when her own mother and sisters hadn’t – intentionally or otherwise. She received several other emails from college friends, volleyball teammates, and other family members – including her cousin Gabriella and niece Samantha. But the one person she longed to hear from the most – quite frankly, the
only
person she ached to hear from – continued to remain incommunicado and she was beginning to sink a little deeper into despair with each day that passed without a word from him.
She left work earlier than usual, not because she was anxious to get home and spend another lonely evening by herself – and on her birthday, to boot – but because she was too depressed and unfocused to get any work done. She stopped en route and bought a very pricey bottle of champagne, a red velvet cupcake, and a takeout order from her favorite Chinese restaurant. She’d settle in and get caught up on the last season of
The Big Bang Theory
while enjoying her dinner, and wouldn’t permit herself to dwell on the fact that she was alone and forgotten on what should have been one of the best days of the year.
But as she approached her apartment building, she recognized the scarlet Ferrari parked in front, and her spirits and her step picked up considerably. She took the stairs at an almost breakneck pace, forcing herself not to burst into the apartment.
She found it impossible, however, to contain the joy that filled her as she saw Nick standing in the middle of the room, a huge bouquet of lush, showy red roses in his hand and a sexy smile on his sinfully handsome face.
“Happy birthday, Angel,” he drawled, holding his arms open.
She rushed to him, never having been so happy to see anyone in her entire life, and never having needed anyone as badly as she did at this exact moment. Heedless of the huge bouquet in his hand, not to mention all of the parcels she was clutching, she flung herself against him, burying her face against the strong, tanned column of his throat.
Nick held her for long seconds, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before gently easing her away. “Why don’t we get the flowers into some water, hmm? And what’s all this?”
He nodded approvingly at the bottle of champagne. “I see that you’ve managed to acquire an appreciation for fine wines, Angel. Glad that my influence has finally rubbed off. But,” he added with a frown of displeasure, “greasy Chinese takeout isn’t a fitting meal for your birthday. And I have a very different dessert in mind tonight than a cupcake.” He bent his head and whispered to her wickedly, “I’d take a taste of that sweet, juicy pussy of yours over cream cheese frosting any day.”
She gasped as he slid a hand past her belly to her crotch, cupping her through the fabric of her skirt. “God, yes,” she breathed. “It’s been so long. I need -”
His hand slid to her ass, pulling her flush against his fully aroused body, his hugely swollen cock rubbing against the notch of her thighs. “I know exactly how long it’s been, Angel,” he rasped. “And exactly how much I need to be inside of you right now. But,” he added as he stepped back, releasing his hold on her, “not until after dinner. And we can’t leave for dinner until you change into your new dress.”
As she hurried to change clothes and touch up her hair and makeup, she realized that he’d offered no explanation – much less any sort of apology – for why it had been nearly ten days since he’d contacted her. Ten days during which she’d suffered the agonies of hell while wondering if he would ever call again or what she’d done to anger him. But of course she couldn’t ask him why, couldn’t even hint about the fact that she’d been so upset. Emotional attachment had never been part of their relationship, and she shuddered to imagine the consequences if she betrayed her feelings to him now.
An hour later they were seated at the best table at her very favorite restaurant, drinking an even more expensive champagne than the one she’d bought earlier. She was wearing her gorgeous new dress of scarlet silk, paired with the sexiest shoes she’d ever seen – ankle strap stiletto sandals of scarlet satin. Angela had been thrilled to note that Nick was wearing her very favorite suit – a dark gray pinstripe teamed with a crisp white shirt and a dark red silk tie. She knew he’d worn it for her, that he knew it was her favorite, and she almost giggled with delight at how he seemed to be going out of his way tonight to please her.
In addition to the dress, shoes, and red satin Fendi clutch, Nick had given her a gorgeous set of ruby and diamond jewelry – another choker-style necklace, drop earrings, and a dainty bracelet.
He reached across the table and trailed a finger along the deep V neckline of the seriously sexy dress. “Red is your color, Angel,” he observed lazily. “Ironic, isn’t it, given that’s typically a color associated with the devil.”
She tugged playfully on his tie. “Maybe you’ve succeeded in corrupting me.”
He grinned, pinching her cheek. “So you’re a fallen angel now, are you? Or more of a scarlet woman? Hmm, no, I don’t believe it. To me you’ll always be my angel, no matter what color you’re wearing.”
She slid her hand over his, turning her face to press a kiss to his palm. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Always.”
Nick squeezed her hand. “Tonight I just want you to be the birthday girl. The pampered, totally spoiled birthday girl.”
Angela laughed happily. “I can totally be her. In fact, I’m pretty sure I already am being her.”
He drew her hand to his lips, sucking the index finger into his mouth, and she was glad they were seated – as usual – in a darkened, secluded corner. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Angel. I’ve got plans for you once we get back to your apartment. And, no, it doesn’t involve sharing the cupcake you bought.”
She giggled, even as a shimmer of desire rippled up her spine and she felt her unbound breasts swell within the fine silk bodice of her dress. Fortunately the garment was fully lined so that the pointed tips of her nipples weren’t glaringly obvious.
Nick had even arranged for a birthday cake, beautifully decorated with her name written across the top, and lit by more than a dozen candles. Several of the wait staff gathered around their table to sing “Happy Birthday” and Angela’s own heart sang with happiness. She was head over heels in love with the gorgeous, compelling man seated across the table from her, the man who had gone to great lengths to arrange this fabulous evening for her, who had hand-picked the stunning outfit and jewels she wore. And she was convinced that he cared for her far more than he would ever admit, for how could he have gone to this much trouble to make sure her birthday was something special if he wasn’t at least a little in love with her?
She was filled with renewed confidence that everything was just fine in their relationship, that they were as solid as ever. The sense of relief that washed through her was incredible, and she told herself firmly that she’d been worrying for nothing, that things were exactly as they should be.
In the eleven months they’d been together, Angela couldn’t think of a time when they’d gone more than a few days without having sex, and she could tell that Nick was as highly strung and needy as she was. Their awareness of each other grew and grew as the evening continued, but he only touched her very fleetingly and casually – a brush of his knuckles against her cheek, a squeeze of her hand, a light touch of her arm. In spite of the privacy their table afforded them, he didn’t attempt even once to touch her more intimately – to slide his hand up her bare thigh and higher, to where she’d been wet and ready for him all evening; or to not so subtly cup her breast, his thumb flicking over the tight bud of her nipple through the silky fabric of her dress. She squirmed impatiently, aroused just from being near him, from inhaling the scent of his soap and his skin, and she almost whimpered aloud with need.
Nick gave her a knowing smile, almost a smirk, as he very deliberately lingered over a post-dinner glass of port. “How well I know that look on your face, Angel,” he told her in an amused voice. “But it won’t do you any good. I’ll fuck you when I decide the time is right. And you’re not quite ready.”
She bit down on her bottom lip as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, struggling not to fidget. “I’m always ready for you, Nick,” she whispered.
“Hmm.” He took another leisurely sip of his drink, regarding her with that maddeningly cryptic smile that both enthralled and infuriated her at the same time. “And here I thought we’d made so much progress on teaching you control, Angel. Perhaps someone needs a refresher course. Like, for example, tonight I could spread you out, tie you to the bed, and then make you wait for a couple of hours in that position.”
Her pulse rate accelerated rapidly and she felt beads of sweat form between her breasts. Her breathing grew uneven as she visualized the erotic picture he’d just painted for her. “But what about – how can you wait -” she asked hesitantly.
Nick grinned wickedly. “I never said anything about waiting. In fact, I can’t think of a bigger turn-on than watching you that way.” He leaned in close, his hot breath tickling her ear. “Watching you spread and bound while I come all over your belly and breasts, and then rubbing my cum into your skin. Next, I’ll flip you over and come on your back and your ass. The third time,” his teeth bit down on her earlobe and she shivered as his voice grew huskier, “I’ll fuck your mouth, come so hard down your throat that my cum will be running down your chin. And then, finally, I’ll give you what you want so badly.” He slid a hand up her thigh to cup her crotch. “I’ll ram my cock inside this hot, tight pussy so hard you’ll scream, fuck you so long and so deep you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”
Angela was shaking, so turned on that she thought wildly if he kept talking to her in that deliberately seductive voice she could have an orgasm just from listening to him.
He must have sensed her distress, for he quickly summoned their waiter over and settled the bill, then hustled her out of the restaurant. She could sense his own impatience now, could feel the way his big, hard body throbbed with need as they waited for the valet to bring the Ferrari around.
He drove with his usual precision and control, but also at a faster than normal speed. Angela breathed a sigh of relief when he found a parking space close by her building, fearful that he would have rammed another car out of the way otherwise.
He didn’t speak as he tugged her along in his wake, not breaking stride until they were inside her apartment. He wasted no time in unzipping her dress, the red silk sliding to the floor like a pool of blood around her feet. She was naked except for her towering high heels and the tiny scrap of her red lace thong.
Nick’s hard, fully aroused body pressed up against her back, his hands cupping her breasts as his lips caressed her throat. “I want you to get on the bed now, Angel,” he rasped. “This is going to happen exactly as I described to you in the restaurant.” He pinched her nipples hard enough to draw a startled gasp from her throat. “However, if you’re a very, very good girl I might be persuaded to improvise every so often. Like right now, for example.”
She cried out as he penetrated her soaking wet slit with two long fingers, hooking them inside her pubic bone while his thumb rubbed over her clit. She came instantly, her hands clutching his muscular forearms desperately as her whole body shook.
BOOK: Shattered:
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