Until I Saw Your Smile (29 page)

I couldn't leave now anyway.
“Do you have any other feelings?”

Angela kissed him. “I have a feeling you'll be upstairs with me tonight.”

“I love your feelings,” Matthew said. “Feelings are so underrated, don't you think?”

She tightened her legs around him. “And we'll get lots of sleep.”

“Is that all?” Matthew whispered.

“For now,” Angela said. “I kept you up for most of the night, didn't I?” She touched his face lightly with her fingertips. “You look exhausted.”

He let his hands stray to her thighs. “Actually, I've never felt more alive.”

Angela grabbed his hands. “Neither have I, but we have to sleep.”

Matthew turned his wrists to escape her grip and massaged the tops of her thighs. “I'll try to sleep, but I can't guarantee anything. I want to keep you warm, and my hands just won't keep still.”

Angela grabbed his hands, lifting them and holding them to her stomach. “I only have a full-size bed.”

Matthew relaxed his hands, his fingers tracing circles on her shirt. “I really can't guarantee
anything
now. A full is larger than a twin but smaller than a queen, right?”

Angela nodded.

“Will we fit?” Matthew asked.

“I will,” she said. “Comfortably.”

“Which means . . .”

“You get the couch.” She smiled. “It's a very nice couch.”

Matthew sighed. “I'm sure it is.”

Angela flattened his hands on her stomach. “I may let you tuck me in.”

“I hope you do.” He caressed her stomach with his thumbs. “And I hope it takes a long time to tuck you in.”

She fell forward and hugged him. “It might.” She sighed. “Especially if you keep touching me like that.”

He grazed her shoulder blades with his fingertips. “How do you make deposits?”

“Where's this question coming from?” Angela asked, leaning back and resting her hands on his shoulders.

“Just wondering,” Matthew said. “If you don't go out, how do you do things?”

“All my bills debit out automatically,” Angela said. “I don't have to write checks or mail them anymore. I used to ask customers to drop off my bills in the mail. I hated doing that.”

“What about making deposits?” Matthew asked.

“I worked something out with HSBC,” Angela said. “My family and I have used them for a long time, and for a small fee, they send someone to collect my deposits whenever I call them, usually Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

“I've never seen that happen,” Matthew said.

“I try not to make a big deal out of it,” Angela said. “I told you I had a delivery the other day, and sometimes the buzzer that sounds in the back isn't for another batch of cookies.”

“You've really managed.”

“I've done what I had to do.” She put his hands behind her and snuggled into his chest. “I don't have much to deposit this week because of this storm.”

“You have to keep it somewhere until they come to collect it, right?” Matthew asked.

“I have a safe place.” She sighed.

“Am I asking too many questions?” Matthew asked.

“No. It's nice to talk to someone.” She sat up. “No one's coming in today. I've had enough.” She hopped out of the booth, ran to the door, locked it, flipped the sign to “closed,” and returned to the booth, holding out her hand. “Come on.”

Matthew took her hand and walked beside her around the counter and into the kitchen. She checked the locks on the back door, snapped off the kitchen lights, unlocked and opened the stairway door, and dragged Matthew to the landing. She closed and locked the stairway door and snatched the Taser from its holster.

“Will that be necessary?” Matthew asked as they stepped up to the apartment door.

“Maybe.” She unlocked several more locks and opened the door. “Welcome to my apartment.”

Matthew took the last step and saw a long dark blue couch, a stack of blankets and a pillow at one end.

“You were expecting me,” he said.

“Yeah,” Angela said, locking the door behind her. “Eventually. And now you're here. Ready for the tour?”

Matthew nodded.

“And you won't have to move.” She hopped up onto the back of the couch. “If you look to your left, you will see two doors. The one on the left is my parents' bedroom. I don't have a reason to go in there. The other is for the laundry room. In
this
room is the world's smallest color TV on a stand built by my father when I was little. I can still hear him cursing the directions. That wingback chair was here when they moved in. The rug and the coffee table are older than I am. My parents bricked in the fireplace when I was five. To your right is my kitchen, so you know it's spotless.” She smiled. “Through the kitchen are my bedroom and my bathroom.” She dropped off the couch. “Follow me.”

Angela's bedroom was as Spartan and plain as the living area. A solid blue comforter covered a full bed, several pillows propped against a low wooden headboard, a hammer resting on the nightstand under a simple white lamp.

“It's definitely warmer up here,” Matthew said.

“Yeah.” She slipped off her shoes, removed her socks, and wiggled out of her jeans, pulled back the covers, and got in bed.

Matthew stood motionless.
Those were some smoking hot legs.

“You okay?” Angela asked.

“You have excellent legs,” he said. “Like sculpture.”

“Thank you.” She buried her head in a pillow. “Are you going to tuck me in now?”

“I've never tucked anyone in before,” Matthew said. “I'm not sure what to do.”

“You could pull the comforter up to my neck,” she whispered.

“I can do that.” He reached across her and grabbed the top edge of the comforter, pulling it snugly up to her chin. “What's next?”

“Make sure the covers are tucked in tightly all around me,” she whispered.

He ran his hands between the mattress and box spring from one side to the next. “All tucked in. Anything else?”

“I guess that's it,” Angela said. “Good night.”

“But it's still morning,” Matthew said. He knelt next to the bed and kissed her cheek. “I hope you have sweeter dreams.”

She freed her arms from under the covers and pulled his face down to his, kissing him tenderly. “Now I will.”

Matthew stood, staring at the outline of Angela's body.
I want to stay.
“I'll be out there if you need me.”

“Isn't it obvious that I already do?” Angela asked.

She needs me. I need her, too.
Matthew nodded. “I'm glad you do. Get some sleep.” He turned to leave.

“Oh,” Angela said.

He looked back. “Yes?”

“Keep watch over my money while you're out there,” Angela said.

Matthew looked through the kitchen into the living area. “You keep it in the couch?”

“Your pillow has an inner zipper,” Angela said.

Smart.
“It must be a heavy pillow with all that change.”

“I leave the change and about twenty in bills in the cash register, Matthew,” Angela said. “I sometimes have to make change for the parking meters. And in case someone desperate breaks in down there, at least they'll have something for their trouble and hopefully won't trash the place.”

“You think of everything,” Matthew said.

“I try.”

“Good night, Angela.”

“Good night, Matthew.”

Matthew wasn't tired or sleepy, not with Angela asleep and already purring less than twenty feet from him. The couch was also too short for his legs. He settled into the pillow and heard the crunch of paper.
I literally have my mind on her money.

He looked at the mantle over the fireplace and saw a few pictures of her parents.
Her mother was beautiful, light-skinned and short, her father tall, dark-skinned, and handsome. Angela has her father's eyes and her mother's shape.

In between cookbooks on a small bookcase, he noticed a few pictures of a young Angela, all knees and legs and smiles. The coffee table to his left contained no magazines, newspapers, not even a
TV Guide.

He counted the kisses he had received and remembered three really good ones.
What does it mean if I can rank the kisses I get? Angela obviously believes in quality over quantity. I have to make every kiss count.

It has been a
very
good day.

Matthew felt himself dozing off and dreaming of Angela's sculptured, toned, brown legs . . .

Chapter 23

M
atthew felt a hot, sweaty, sexy weight on his chest when he woke several hours later.

He slid his hand down her back and felt more sweat.

Angela opened her eyes.

“How did you know I needed another blanket?” Matthew whispered.

“I'm surprised I didn't wake you,” she said. “I've been here for at least an hour. You sleep so deeply.”

I've wasted an hour of my life I can never get back.
“Did you miss me or were you cold?”

“I was cold.” She crawled higher. “And I missed you.” She rubbed her nose on his neck. “And I had another bad dream.”

“Want to talk about it?” Matthew asked.

“No.” She kissed his ear. “Not now.”

“Okay.”

“You are so warm,” she whispered.

He caressed her back through her thin T-shirt. “I'm hot because I was dreaming about you.”

“Were we cutting down a forest in your dream?” Angela asked.

Matthew smiled. “No.”

“Sounded like it.” Angela kissed his chin. “It's actually comforting to hear.” She looked out the window. “Look. It's stopped snowing.”

“It has?” He massaged her lower back and found it less sweaty.

Angela crawled even higher.

Matthew found his hands completely covering her booty. “There you go, moving your body under my hands again.”

“Is this going to be a problem?” she whispered.

“No.” He squeezed.
My hands are in heaven.
“Is
that
going to be a problem?”

“No.” She inched even higher. “You're not comfortable.”

“No, no,” Matthew said, cupping her buttocks. “I'm good.”

She sat up. “Let's go see if we fit in my bed.” She flung back the blanket and stood. “Come on.”

Matthew followed her into the bedroom, where she had already pulled back the covers.

“You first,” she said.

Matthew slid under the covers, and Angela crawled on top of him, pulling up the covers behind her.

“Angela, we are going to roast.”
I'm so overdressed.
“Unless I take off my jeans.”

“Then take them off,” she whispered.

Angela didn't move while Matthew removed his pants, dropping them onto the floor.

“Is that better?” she whispered.

“A little.”
It's still too hot, and I'm getting bothered by her soft, hot flesh.
“The, um, this position and the way you're, um,
positioned
is putting me in an awkward position.”

“Good,” she whispered.

“My boxers have an exit, Angela.”

She wiggled. “I feel you, man.”

And now she's wiggling.
“I may escape and do you harm.”

“Oh no, not
that,
” she whispered. “Down, boy.”

He took several deep breaths. “It seeks warmth, and you are certainly warm.”

“Don't think of me as a woman,” Angela whispered. “Think of me as a blanket.”

There's no way I can do that.
“You are the sexiest, silkiest, smoothest blanket ever created. You feel very nice.”

“Thank you.” She wiggled again.

“Angela?”

“Yes?”

“Please don't wiggle like that,” Matthew said. “I was beginning to calm down.”

“I'm trying to get comfortable,” she whispered.

“By grinding on me,” Matthew said.

She looked up, batting her eyelashes. “I'm shaking the present.” “You're doing what?” Matthew asked.

“Didn't you ever pick up a present and shake it a little to see if you could guess what was inside?” Angela asked.

“Yes,” Matthew said, moving her hips slightly to the side. “But that's not what you're doing.”

“Sure I am,” Angela whispered, centering her hips on him again. “I'm checking out the package.”

Funny.
“And what do you think of the package?”

“I can't wait to open it.” She wiggled again.

“You're not nice,” he said.

“Come on, Matthew,” she said. “Don't you know that it's International Flirting Week?”

“You're not flirting, Angela,” Matthew said. “You're hurting.”

“I'll stop.” She slid her hands under his arms, massaging his shoulders. “I only want you to hold me anyway.”

“I can do that,” Matthew whispered.
Let's take this slow so it will last.

“Wait.” She slid her hand under the pillow and pulled out the Taser, placing it next to the hammer on the nightstand.

My head was inches from electrocution.
“Thank you.”

“But if you snore too loudly . . .
zzzt.
”

“I am so comfortable.” She kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

“Should my hands stray during the night,” Matthew whispered, “I want you to know that they are straying without my permission.”

“I'll be sad if they don't,” she whispered. “Good night, Matthew.”

“Good night, Angela.”

Matthew stayed as still as he could, but Angela continued to wiggle and grind. As a result, Matthew's hands started to stray to her booty, her thighs, her sides, and the back of her neck. He slid lower in the bed until his lips found hers, and for a few furtive moments, they were dangerously close to becoming one.

Angela sighed. “That's . . . that's feeling too nice, Matthew.”

Too nice?
“I was shaking the present.”

“Consider me shaken,” Angela said. “You know exactly where to touch me.”

“And you respond exactly when I want you to,” he said.

She slid down and rested her head on his chest. “I'm not sure I'm ready.”

“I can wait, Angela,” Matthew said. “We don't have to rush anything.”

“Thank you.” She kissed his hand. “Thank you. I'm . . . I'm just a little scared.”

“It's okay.” He massaged her shoulders. “Go to sleep.”

“Good night.”

Matthew again watched Angela sleeping and felt calm and peace fill his body.

He also felt sweaty.

He noticed a great deal of steam on the window.