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One Hot Angel by Jaylee Austin
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
Rated "R" by the Author.
Revenge meets destiny
One Hot Angel
by Jaylee Austin
I value the support of my family and friends. Thank you for believing in me.
Blog Post!
Date needed for Valentine’s high school reunion dance.
Requirements: Dark, mysterious, handsome and a damn ripped body. No wacko’s apply. Serious, fun-loving female out to demolish one ex-lover who needs his face grounded into mincemeat. Signed, one upset female.
Tiffany Jenkins ground her teeth. Who the hell did Thomas think he was—some superstar? The cold fish remarks were bad enough, but to accuse her of stealing money from their shared account was an outright lie.
Then he had the gall to say she had no style in the bedroom—a frigid uptight woman. He was the one who didn’t have any style in bed. Most times it was over before she knew what happened. But like any prom queen, she’d married the hero of the football team. Such a cliché. Her golden retriever carried more courage and stout than he’d ever mustered.
She knew she was being irrational, but for days the rumors spread like the Ebola virus in Africa. He was a disease she needed to expunge from her life.
Hitting the send key, she leaned back in her chair, satisfied.
She’d interview applicants over the weekend and have two weeks to prepare her plan. But one thing for sure, she’d make him sorry for humiliating her across the world of social media. She’d find a real stud, a man oozing with sex appeal, not the washed up hero of her teenage youth.
Her phone blared, “Dangerous.”
Yup. That’s what she was. Dangerous. She swiped her finger over the answer key.
“OMG, blogging for a date! Are you nuts? You plan on arriving to the reunion with the hottest man in L.A.?” Kim, her best friend from high school was the only one who knew the real truth.
The corners of Tiffany’s mouth twitched into a grin, “That’s my plan. No way will I let him think he hurt me with his childish antics, defaming me to our high school friends. I’ll stroll into the dance with every eye glued to me and expose him as the fraud he is.”
“It could backfire. He’s always been able to charm his way with lies. Maybe it’s better to leave it alone.”
“I can’t. I want the ten thousand dollars he stole from my account. And I refuse to let him destroy my reputation. I’ll waltz into the dance with my pride and hopefully get my money.”
“You don’t expect him to have the cash in his pocket, do you?”
“No, but he’s predictable. I just need to find a way to expose him for the thief and liar he is.”
“Good luck.”
Tiffany ended the call and tossed the phone into her gym bag.
Her Zumba class started in half an hour. She needed to relieve her stress and dance was her favorite way to stay in shape. Unsure why, she ran a brush through her hair and iced her lips with a sizzling red lip-gloss.
* * * *
Tiffany strolled into the room and put her water bottle and towel against the mirror. A group of women clamored shoulder to shoulder talking over each other’s words. What in the world was going on?
The Zumba instructor put on her microphone and “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” bellowed from the sound system. The women dispersed to their desired spots.
Tiffany took her position and glanced up at the mirror covering the wall behind the instructor. The most delectable man she’d ever seen stood directly behind her wearing sweat pants and a skintight tank top.
She admired his rippling arm muscles. His curly ebony hair shaped a perfectly rugged jaw; a day’s growth of black hair added a daring danger to his good looks. The lascivious leer he gave her made her squirm in her leotard.
The instructor started the warm up routine.
Tiffany, conscious of him watching her, awkwardly tried to move in step to the music. There was always a small group of males who attended class, but never one this good looking. Trying to recover her quivering limbs and dance, she ventured a look in the mirror and realized he’d had the same effect on every female in the room. Even the instructor fell under his magnetic pull, shaking and twisting.
“Talk Dirty” played and his gyrating pelvis left every female pirouetting closer to him.
Breathless, Tiffany took a water break, sneaking a peek at the curves of his finely chiseled buttocks. She couldn’t take her eyes from him.
He winked.
He didn’t just wink, did he? She must be mistaken.
He stalked toward her, taking a long swig from his own water bottle.
A shiver of desire ran down her spine.
“The blog,” he said when he finally reached her. “I’m here in answer to your blog.”
Water spewed from her mouth. “You’re what?”
Every eye in the classroom shifted their way.
Embarrassed, she mopped up the liquid and took her place on the gym floor.
A sassy salsa came next. Tiffany fumbled the steps twice, hardly able to concentrate on the movements. How did he find out who she was? And more importantly, where she took Zumba classes?
The hour ended and Tiffany rushed from the room, heading to the locker to retrieve her purse. Hopefully, she’d avoid running into him on the way to her car.
“See you tomorrow,” the employee behind the register counter said as Tiffany ran out the front door unable to still her trembling nerves.
If he was some kind of weird stalker, she wanted no part of the situation. Maybe she’d been a little hasty posting such a blog, but it’d worked in movies.
Tiffany froze.
Leaning against the driver’s door of her yellow mini cooper was the Adonis from class. A strange ribbon of light engulfed him like his own personal “spotlight of beauty”.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes. The purple haze disappeared. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her shoulders back and marched toward her car. “What do you think you’re doing following me?”
“I’m here in answer to your blog post.”
She cocked her brow, wondering if the guy was for real.
Mischievous laughter danced in his eyes, he was truly enjoying her discomfort. Since he was blocking her car door, she had no choice but to stand there. Hungrily, he ran his eyes over her face and hair before moving aside.
Every nerve in her body was on fire, his magnetism like velcro sticking to her. “Since you know who I am, it’d be considerate of you to introduce yourself.”
A deep rumble emerged from his throat. “I’m Michael, your guardian angel.”
“My what?” She had precisely stated no wackos, what did she expect posting for a date on her blog? She’d have to get rid of him. It didn’t matter if his body rippled with ravines of muscle. Crazy wasn’t in her plan. All she needed was a date to turn the tables on Thomas and quiet the rumors.
“Your blog went to the airways and I decided to visit Los Angeles.”
“You snap your fingers and poof you’re in L.A.?”
“Why not? Your blog said you needed help.”
Tiffany found herself searching for his wings. Didn’t angels have wings? Get real. Angels, wings? The guy’s nuts.
“Michael, it’s been a pleasure, but I don’t think your services will be needed.” She slipped into her car and turned the key.
His face brightened with the funniest grin and an echo of curiosity grabbed hold of her mind. The idea of an angel coming to her rescue…
Good sense slid right out the window and she turned off the engine. “Are you really an angel?”
A glinting sliver of light illuminated his body and the undertones of his skin were so beautiful. She reached her hand out the window and ran her fingers down the center of his stomach stopping just above his sweats. Damn, if she didn’t want to believe he was for real.
A single red rose materialized on the seat of her Cooper.
“The first of fourteen and the greatest Valentine’s Day of your life,” Michael said.
The fragrance of rose permeated the car, stronger and sweeter than anything she’d ever experienced. The velvety softness of the petals was silky smooth to the touch.
“I don’t need a lover. All I need is to make mincemeat of one pain in the ass.”
“Um, let’s see. You’re frigid, passionless, icy and you’re determined to convince your friends you’re really a passionate, hot woman with men coveting at your feet, and not a cold fish, dateless and alone.”
“I’m not passionless.” His words like thorns of the rose pierced her heart. Fire flames danced in her stomach. How dare he accuse her of being indifferent? She had passion. Jutting out her chin, she swallowed the lump in her throat. No way was a stranger going to bring her to tears. No way.
She turned the key and pushed the gas pedal. If he were smart, he’d move out of her way.
* * * *
The anger flared in her sky blue eyes like a brewing storm.
Michael loved the rumble of a good storm, the flash of lightning waking up the sky. He inhaled a deep gulp of air. He loved wandering around Earth. The aroma of human emotion made him feel alive. Lately, he needed a break from the cries of the dead and wanted to feel life.
It was Valentine’s and love was in the air. He’d give Tiffany the best two weeks of her life, but first, he’d have to erase those dark stormy clouds.
A millennium had passed since he’d lived on Earth. Walking down the streets of Los Angeles, he embraced the throngs of people rushing into stores, into buildings, into adventures. His stomach growled from hunger.
A waft of BBQ burped from the chimney of the restaurant on the corner. He stepped inside and sat in the far corner, ordering a brisket sandwich and fries.
The checkered red and white tablecloth reminded him he was playing a game of chess with Cupid’s arrow. He’d fallen in love with the little girl in pigtails and it had pained him to watch Thomas manipulate her into believing she was passionless. He knew better.
When she’d put out the blog post, it was a perfect opportunity, an opportunity to experience the sensations and heat of passion. He wanted her to be his lover, the only glitch—he had two weeks. Two weeks to make her fall in love with him before Gabriel came calling to take her away. He couldn’t allow that to happen, he loved her.
Gabriel had taken pity and allowed Michael to bargain with Saint Valentine for her life. The wager was a simple one. If Michael could make the female sacrifice her heart for love and pledged her hand in marriage, they’d spare her life.
His hunger satisfied, Michael licked the last of the sauce from his lips. Saint Valentine had gifted him the valentine key, a necklace shimmering with golden flakes. If he succeeded in his mission, the key would nestle in the cleavage of Tiffany’s bosom, the seat of her affections.
Gabriel’s warning tittered in the back of his thoughts. He had until midnight of the rise of the full moon for her to declare her devotion and sear her heart to him in unconditional love.
A babble of noises caught his attention.
Across the street, a herd of boys came charging through the crowd heading toward the Staple Center. Michael returned to his thoughts, enjoying the moment, one he hoped would last a lifetime.
The heat of the human blood coursing through his veins colored his skin to a bright reddish tone. His internal vibration adjusted to the Earth’s heavier atmosphere. Michael was ready for the challenge, she had to give up this plot of revenge and open her heart to him. A fluttery feeling danced in his chest. He wanted Tiffany to love him the man, not the angel. His two weeks had begun and he ran through his mind what he had to do.
* * * *
One more interview and she’d make her decision. Pouring herself another vanilla coffee, Tiffany sat at the computer. The four men she’d talked to so far were handsome and dark, but none stirred her emotions like Michael.
The rose sat on her desk, vibrant shade of wine, its bloom strong, just like the man who’d given it to her. Rather, the angel.
Tiffany didn’t really believe the nonsense about him being her guardian angel, but if he believed he was an angel, what did it matter? She only needed his services for two weeks, then he’d be on his way out of her life.
She entered the last interviewee’s number into Facetime and waited. The image of a femme in a glorious layered gown perched atop a grand stallion, her lover reaching toward her offering one single red rose popped up. Tiffany was intrigued.
“Do you like the painting? The knight in shining armor rescues his lady in distress.”
Her body responded to the deep purring sound of the voice, familiar. Her tongue slithered along the outlines of her mouth, salivating at the thought of Michael. Getting control of her rumbling emotions, she eyed the avatar. It couldn’t be him, or was it?
She spoke into the computer. “Good afternoon, I’m Tiffany. The picture’s nice, but please reveal your identity. I’m looking for certain qualifications.”
Another painting appeared on the screen and Tiffany heaved a sigh. She threw her arms in the air. “What are you doing?”
She watched perilous white clouds move across the palest of blue skies before she got up and moved away from the computer screen. When she glanced back, tiny cherubs were playing hide and seek in the floating clouds. Tiffany rubbed her tired eyes.
I must be imagining this.
Ever since Michael’s appearance that morning, she’d noticed all types of angels—everywhere—plastered with boxes of chocolate, and bundles of roses in storefronts, on television and billboards advertising everything from lingerie to toilet paper.
She wandered back to the PC. “Cute. Living art. I assume you’re a photographer?”
“Not by trade.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m interested in hiring you to unearth my ex-husband’s lies.”
“Done.”
His creamy voice slid under her skin making her jumpier with each syllable he spoke. “I want every woman to envy that I’m your date.”
“No problem. Women love me.”
“You sound like Thomas. The ex. That was his problem.” She sighed, exasperation growing. An itch of uncertainty danced along her neck, the tiny wispy hairs tingling. She cringed and began to doubt the rationale of her plan.
Images of Michael flashed before her eyes, thoughts of him swirling her on the dance floor, taking her in his arms and professing his undying love.
“This is insane,” she mumbled.
“What’s insane?”
“Oh, nothing.”
The painting of the cherubs faded and the connection dropped.
“Great, he hangs up on me.” She glanced at the clock with a frown.
It was getting late. Tomorrow, she’d make her decision.
Curling on the edge of her love seat, Tiffany picked up the romance novel she’d been reading and opened to a hot juicy love scene.
…his silky tongue slid down her taunt buttocks, teasing her, opening her wet…
Enough! She threw the book against the wall. Everywhere she looked were signs of love. Love didn’t exist in her life.
She grabbed the yearbook and flipped it open to a marked page and scanned the caption of the photo there, Thomas and Tiffany, Cutest Couple.
The affairs, the isolation, the hiding, a kaleidoscope of illusions kept their life together, until the pieces began to shatter and collapse into nothingness.
What was she trying to prove? So what if a bunch of high school friends thought she was frigid. She’d isolated herself from the cruelty of her husband’s painful words, always so hurtful.
Tiffany wanted a man with fire, passion, heat. One who lived life with gusto, not a vampire sucking the life force from her soul.
Her body burned with desire, an ache that wouldn’t subside. She eased her hand down her stomach, imagining Michael’s hot succulent mouth caressing her inner thighs, teasing, licking, kissing. Her body reacted with a spasm that left her aching for a real man.
Suddenly, her cell rang.
Giving herself a mental shake, she answered. “Hello?”
A breathy pause. “I’m your man.” The underlying tone of the deep voice coming through the phone implied knowledge, awareness.
“The artist, why not?” Exasperated with the day, she was easy prey. If he created illusions with art, he’d be perfect at revealing Thomas’ deception. “I’ll conclude the interview over coffee at Millie’s on Sunset Boulevard and Vine Street.”
“Sleep in the arms of angels until the rise of the moon.” His sultry voice was soothing, like the ripples of a serene pool.
The call disconnected. It was the second time he’d hung up and he’d offered yet another angel reference.
No doubt lingered in her mind. The artist she’d just agreed to interview was Michael.
* * * *
Michael walked along Skid Row reaching out and touching the hearts of the invisible, giving them needed clothing, shoes and blankets to keep them warm at night. He wanted to do more, but he offered them what he could. The dark side of humanity never became easier to accept. The downtrodden, victims to the demons and dark vampires of the world. He slipped a twenty into a young woman’s hand and gave another a pair of new shoes.
The Mission on Bronson Avenue closed within the hour. He’d take shelter there until morning and meet Tiffany for breakfast. He needed fresh clothes and since he was out of time, he’d have to make do with what he was wearing until he could buy new ones.
He’d made sure he had plenty of money. In the human realm, you needed cash. All around him, evidence of the disparity of those who understood the disadvantage of not having resources was on display. In the morning, he’d leave a sizable donation to help feed the hungry and tomorrow, he’d persuade Tiffany to allow him to live with her until after the reunion.
Michael located a cot and blanket and settled in for the night. Fingering Saint Valentine’s gold key, he closed his eyes and murmured, “Until the rise of the moon.”
* * * *
Tiffany waited with Kim in the waitress station to see if Michael would make an appearance. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, dreaming of one particular angel. Her face reddened as she remembered her wanton imagination running amok.
“Is it him?” Kim whispered. She pointed toward the front register.
His curly black hair was slicked back into a ponytail. He wore a deep purple shirt with a gray vest and a pair of snug fitting jeans. Good-looking just didn’t begin to describe his alluring charisma. In a fraction of a second, the female population of the place scented an alpha male and like a pack of wild wolves, the competition began.
“Yeah.” Determined not to be part of the salivating female race, Tiffany refused to acknowledge his good looks. In his hand’s, he held two red roses.
“I’ll sit him in the corner booth. It’ll look like you’re coming out of the restroom.” Kim took a moment to smooth her uniform and refresh her lipstick. Even her close friend wasn’t immune to his charms.
Kim seated Michael and hurried back to Tiffany. “Oh my God, he could climb in my bed anytime.” She licked her lips. “If you don’t want him, send him my way. But if those roses are any indication of his desire, he’s off the market.”
“He just wants a job.”
“The reunion is gonna smoke.” Kim laughed as she poured a coffee and an ice tea. “I’ll bring these to the table.” She smiled ear to ear.
Tiffany wore a burgundy cardigan, a pair of jeans and leather boots. February still held a chill, a perfect time to build a fire and snuggle in close. What was she thinking?
She slipped into the booth, determined to set boundaries for their relationship. “You’re hired, but the job doesn’t include seducing me. For the next two weeks, you’ll stay at the house in the extra bedroom. I’ll pay you two thousand dollars for your time. Is that acceptable?”
“I’ll take the job, but donate the money to the mission on Skid Row. They can use it to feed the hungry.” He handed her the two roses tied together in a love knot. “I do have one condition. You have to completely become my girlfriend for the next two weeks. We eat together, we sleep together, we spend time together.”
“And what happens after Valentine’s Day?”
“Midnight at the rise of the moon, I’ll be out of your life. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“You ask me to stay.” He flashed a disarming grin.
“Why would I do that?” Tiffany fingered the love knot connecting the two roses. She couldn’t believe she was actually contemplating his conditions. Being his girlfriend for two weeks would certainly add a touch of reality, making it easier to convince her peers of Thomas’ lies.
“Why is it so important to destroy your ex in front of your mutual friends?”
Tiffany crossed her arms, not really wanting to reveal the depth of her wounds. It was bad enough he stole the money from their checking account, but spreading rumors and humiliating her on social media was death. In Los Angeles, your beauty and reputation were money in the bank.
“He’s caused me to lose two modeling contracts so far and I’ve got to prove him a fraud before he ruins my career.”
Michael leaned closer, not speaking or making any sound. He kissed her on the lips, to the envy of every woman in the restaurant. All eyes were on them.
She pulled away, dropping her gaze to the Formica tabletop. With one simple kiss, her barriers of emotional protection melted, leaving her vulnerable.
“He won’t ruin your career, I can promise you.”
She swallowed and stiffened her spine. “I’m counting on you to keep your word.”
“I promise.” He laid five dollars on the table for their coffee. “I need clothes if I’m going to be here for two weeks.”
She suddenly wanted to know more about him. And why was he really so determined to help her. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from Elysium.” He reached over and rubbed her cheek. “Trust me Tiffany, I’m here to save your life.”
Her eyes widened. Elysium? As in angels? “The citadel outlet along the five freeway has a great shish kabob restaurant. We can have lunch and buy you the things you need.”
“Sounds perfect.” Michael took her hand in his and they exited the coffee shop.
Kim waved and gave Tiffany a nod and grin that said she expected explicit details tomorrow.
For the rest of the afternoon, Tiffany floated alongside Michael and exchanged knowing looks with the women they came across. Shit, everyone seemed to be under his spell. Even men were willing to bend over backward to cater to his every need.
“Let’s go to Venice Beach. I’d like to walk along the boardwalk.” He put his bags into her trunk and held out his hand for her keys.
Amused at his almost childlike wide-eyed look, she handed them over without a fuss. She’d swear it was his first time in L.A. “I have a job at four. A photo shoot for a billboard.”
A sexy smile brightened his face. “I’ve never been photographed. May I come along?”
“It’s a job. One I desperately need. You can stand in the back of the room and watch. It’ll take an hour.”
* * * *
The black and red corset Tiffany donned for the shoot set his blood on fire. A huge heart perched behind her with the words “YourMatch.com. Your perfect mate just a click away.” written across it. Her full lips were painted a deep red and her hair flowed in soft curls around her shoulders, sucking the air right out of his lungs.
A groan escaped his lips. The photographer shot him a glance and nodded his head in agreement.
After various angle shots, the photographer turned to Michael, “Are you a model?”
“No. Just here watching Tiffany.” Michael winked at her before returning his attention to the photographer.
The photographer angled the camera in his direction. “You’re pretty photogenic. Do you mind if I take a few pictures? I have an idea the company may like.”
A smile beamed across his face. “Shoot away.”
“Unbutton your shirt and release your hair from the ponytail.”
Michael never took his gaze from Tiffany’s mouth. Those red lips pursed into a heart shaped kiss. He planned on kissing them before the end of the night. His body burned with fire and she was the ice he needed to put out the flame.
The photographer lowered his camera. “Tiffany, I’d like to photograph the two of you together. Are you game?”
“I get paid either way. Fine with me.” Her skin glistened with a layer of perspiration under the bright lights. The make-up artist applied fresh powder to her face.
Michael fingered the gold key hanging around his neck. A tenderness of love shot through his limbs and he marveled at the trembling of his heart. He joined Tiffany and the shutter of the camera exploded to life.
“These are perfect.” The photographer lowered his camera, grinning. He walked over to his laptop and inserted the SD card.
An image of two lovers flashed on the screen, an aura of violet shimmered around the couple.
“The two of you together are hot. The executives at the dating service will be thrilled,” the photographer gushed.
Michael put his arm around her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “See if you can keep the corset. I’d like to take it off of you one snap at a time.”
Her cheeks flushed a raspberry red, nearly as bright as her luscious mouth. She squirmed under his scrutiny. “Our deal doesn’t include me, remember?” She hissed low, so only he could hear the words.
“Oh, but it does, my sweet and delectable ice queen.”
“Don’t call me that.” Her nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge and pierce his heart.
Oh, he was so ready for her charge.
* * * *
The aroma of fresh brewed coffee and bacon filtered into the bedroom, rousing Tiffany. The last forty-eight hours blurred in a whirlwind of activity. She’d shared the horrors of the last five years with Thomas and Michael had listened, dutifully absorbing the information he’d use to bring Thomas to his knees at the reunion. Tiffany had purged her soul and felt the benefits. In the light of a new day, her plan for revenge was losing its appeal.
Her cell rang, pulling her out of the reverie. “Good morning.”
“You simply amaze me. You have a hunky man living in your house. Have you slept with him yet?” Kim blurted before saying hello.
“I’ve thought about it, but he’s leaving after Valentine’s Day and the last thing I need is to fall for him. He’s not the staying around type.”
“Who’s talking about love? I’m thinking steamy, melting hot sex.”
Tiffany glanced at the four roses laying across her pillow.
He’d kept his word and not attempted to have sex with her. But that was the problem. She wanted him. Wanted him more than a lover, she wanted him to stay.
“I saw the billboard on Sunset. Thomas will be filled with fury. The image is everyone’s wet dream. The two of you are like the perfect happily ever after.”
“It’s just a photograph.”
“Are you kidding? The chemistry oozes the possibility of everlasting love.”
Michael stood in the doorway, his gaze drinking her in like a rich, delicious cappuccino.
Her core screamed and her legs parted. “I gotta go. Mr. Hunky Valentine is standing in my bedroom doorway.”
“Jump his bones,” Kim advised before hanging up the phone.
Tiffany dropped her phone and clenched the sheets, twisting them in knots.
“Nervous?” Michael asked, bringing her a cup of coffee. He sat down next to her, set the mug on the nightstand and took her hands in his. He brought them to his lips. His tongue slithered between her fingers before taking her forefinger in his mouth, nibbling the tip. “Um, you taste sweet this morning.”
He smelt like lemon grass and cedar blended with the over powering scent of rose. A shiver ran down her spine. She didn’t know how much longer she could take his seductive teasing. Pulling her hand away, she reached for her coffee. “Behave yourself.”
He got up and headed toward the door. “Breakfast is ready.”
Even as the thorny obstacles of the reunion snagged at her heart, she couldn’t help enjoying Michael’s company. She had to remind herself he’d been paid for his time and sex wasn’t part of the bargain. She’d agreed with his terms, but so far neither of them had gotten much sleep. Tiffany clung to her side of the bed and made sure he stayed on his. Ten more days and he’d be gone. Her reputation would be restored and Thomas revealed as the liar he was.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and a lavender sweater, she joined Michael for breakfast. “What’s on the agenda today?”
He pushed a yellow envelope over to her side of the table.
“What’s inside?” She bit the inside of her cheek, uncertain.
“Everything you need to destroy Thomas and possibly send him to jail.”
Her fingers trembled and she reached for the envelope and Michael’s hand covered hers.
“Is this what you really want to do?”
She hesitated, pulling her hand back. He got up and picked up the dishes from the table. She trailed him with her eyes and her heart tripped a beat. She’d never seen him so serious. Words escaped into the abyss of her mind.
Ever since Michael forced his way into her life she’d begun to feel differently. Happy.
“I need to check on the Mission and deliver some needed clothes.” Michael cupped her face in his hands, his gaze penetrated to the depth of her soul. “Is it love you want, or revenge?”
Before she could consider her answer, he kissed her. His tongue found hers and ignited a passion she’d never experienced. Her arms hung at her side, unable to move. She just took what he offered.
* * * *
Michael walked out the door, leaving her to stare at his back.
Once outside, the sky opened up and the sounds of the bugles reached him. His brother, Gabriel stood in the clouds, bronze sash blowing in the wind.
Michael waved at him and succumbed to the shadow of man’s emotions, the choice to love or hate. As an angel, he was immune to human fate, living in the grace of celestial energy.
Body charged with energy, Michael strolled down the street and caught the downtown bus to Vine Street. Deep within his soul, he feared Tiffany’s pending decision. If she chose hate, she’d die.
His brother’s voice sounded in his skull. “The human dilemma is one of free will. Abandon this lubricious need of yours and return to Elysium.”
“I love her.” Michael said out loud and the woman next to him smiled.
“Did you have a quarrel young man?” The woman’s silver hair and dark green eyes beheld a lifetime of wisdom.
He rejoiced in her gentle soul and took solace. “She has to make a choice and I fear it won’t be the right decision.”
Leaning into him, she whispered, “Matters of the heart are mysterious situations. Not easily solved, but well worth the effort.” She patted his hand and winked at him. “This is my stop. Trust in your love. She’ll make the right choice.” Before getting off the bus, she turned to him. “Saint Valentine’s key.” Then, she disappeared.
With a new jingle in his step, Michael stopped at the Salvation Army and loaded up with several pair of shoes and jackets. It took the majority of the morning to deliver the items. At least, they’d be warm tonight.
The bus pulled up to the stop with his and Tiffany’s picture plastered on the side. A chubby Cupid with an arrow had been superimposed in the upper left corner, looking down at the two of them.
A twinge of desire gripped his stomach. Damn, she was hot in the red corset. Eager to hold her in his arms, his step picked up pace. He stopped at See’s Candy and bought some truffles and caramel turtles. Tonight, he’d make love to her, show her love didn’t mean pain.
Michael opened the front door to the delicious aroma of tomatoes and basil. Tiffany was bent over the stove and two round luscious ass cheeks welcomed him, the material of her corset sliding within the folds of her buttocks.
Need clawed at his vitals. He’d fantasized about her in that very corset after seeing their photograph plastered all over Los Angeles. Tenderness warmed his heart when he noticed the yellow envelope lay on the counter, unopened. He reached up and twisted the key.
The silver-haired women’s words echoed in his heart, Trust in your love.
* * * *
The sound of his footsteps sent tingles along her spine. Wearing the red corset was a risky undertaking. She’d clearly stated there’d be no sex. Of course, if she wanted to negotiate the terms, she could.
Tiffany closed the oven door and turned around to a resounding guffaw. She smiled. The Betty Boop apron worked, distracting him and giving her a moment to calm her fluttering heart.
He held a box of chocolates. “Dessert.” He set the treats on the table and moved closer.
She gripped the edge of the counter, her mouth moist with saliva. Her body craved his touch, needed his mouth on hers. She drank in the sight of his chocolate eyes and the stubble of dark hair along his chiseled chin. She steeled herself against the sexual desire screaming for release.
Michael closed in like a cat capturing a mouse, and took her in his arms. His mouth found hers, forcing her lips apart. Their tongues met, on fire, thirsty. Hungrily, greedily, she gave—wanting the kiss to last a lifetime. Breathless, they came to the surface for air.
“Wow.” Tiffany licked her bottom lip.
“Are we having our own photography session?” His fingers untied the apron. He slipped it from around her neck and let it drop to the floor. His fingertip outlined the corset, teasing her hardening nipples. “You’re so beautiful.”
She found the button to his jeans and tugged it loose, her fingers slid the length of his manhood, teasing.
In one easy swoop, Michael cupped her bare buttocks and lifted her to his waist, her body sliding against his massive shaft.
“Don’t stop.” She moaned, throwing her head back in ecstasy, their clothes a barrier between them.
“You’re the dessert I’ve been desiring.” His words, like a siren’s call, whispered her name.
Tiffany turned the oven to warm and led him to her bed.
Michael pulled his t-shirt over his head. She feasted on the curly patch of ebony hair nestled in the center of his chest. For days she’d wanted to weave her fingers through that hair, but didn’t dare. She had wanted hot and he was certainly one hot specimen.
She reached up to unlace the corset.
“Let me.” His husky voice held control and he pulled the lace. Her full breasts escaped their confinement. “So smooth and creamy.”
Normally, she’d feel self-conscious, but he made her feel beautiful, desired, sexy. His tongue trailed to her belly button, kissing and licking her hot skin. His thumb rubbed the fabric between her legs.
Her back arched. She desperately wanted him to remove the last barrier between them.
“Ask for what you want. Tell me.”
She’d never talked during sex and felt empowered by his urging. “I want you to remove this corset and…” She hesitated, never using the word before.
He inched the fabric down her thigh ever so slowly, her knees together. “Open your legs for me.”
Her knees fell to the mattress and his gaze devoured her body. His fingers separated the creamy flesh of her lips wet with desire. Lifting his gaze to meet hers, he whispered, “Tell me what you want, Tiffany.”
“Fuck me,” she replied in a seductive whisper, moving her hands down her stomach in a slow caress.
A sexy moan escaped him as he reached for a condom in his back pocket and removed his jeans.
She admired his erect shaft, so full and pulsating. He covered the tip with the condom sliding the latex over his throbbing sheath. His mouth found hers. Their tongues mingled, playing hide and seek, teasing.
Dragging her lips from his, she slipped her leg over his back, taking the upper hand. Once on top, she took the control, arching her body over his. Her feet nestled against his ribcage and she straddled him, then slowly eased her womanhood over his tip. She moved him in and out of her with slow, tantalizing movements.
“Woman, I can’t take this any longer.” Michael placed his hands on her hips and thrust inside. He moved against her in a steady rhythm.
She leaned over and licked a hard nipple, enjoying her power over him.
“What a little vixen.” Rolling her onto her back, Michael thrust deep, taking, giving.
Tiffany surrendered to the release exploding through her body. Never in her life had she ever experienced such an orgasm, her body still convulsing when Michael thrust one final time and shuddered with his own release.
She breathed in the aftermath of sex, running her fingers through the spiraling curls of hair on his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, satiated and happy. She accepted the idea he’d be leaving next week, but hidden deep in her heart, she wished he would stay. She wanted the euphoric dream to last forever. But she’d learned forever didn’t exist.
“Michael.”
“Yes?” His fingers strummed her upper arm.
“Are you really an angel?”
“At the moment, I’m an ordinary man totally engrossed with an enchanting, beautiful woman.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.
* * * *
Unable to sleep, Michael strolled out to the balcony and looked to the stars.
Sunrise brought Valentine’s Day. Twenty-four hours and their lives could alter forever. Fate was cruel. If Tiffany publicly destroyed her ex-husband, she’d lose her life before the rise of the full moon.
Yesterday, she’d opened the envelope that held the evidence she’d needed to ruin Thomas’ reputation. No matter how much Michael wanted to, he couldn’t change fate. Her destiny was in her hands. Only she had the power to change the course of events.
Since the night they’d made love, Tiffany had worn the valentine key nestled against her heart. He closed his eyes and like a mere mortal, pleaded to the guardians of Elysium and Saint Valentine to release him from the bargain on her life.
No answer came, but he’d expected none. He knew the protocol of free will. Over the centuries, he’d escorted millions of souls to their final destination with little feeling for the outcome. But things had changed. This was personal and he was helpless.
* * * *
Tiffany paced the length of her bed. She was about to get her revenge, but suddenly it didn’t feel right.
Kim had suggested she leave it to the police and forget about the money. Maybe she was right.
To make matters worse, Michael had grown quiet, withdrawn over the past few days. He’d spent the earlier part of the day at the Mission helping the homeless. Worry lines etched in the corners of his eyes when he’d returned, his mouth pinched and unsmiling.
Tiffany fingered the key he’d given her after they’d made love and knew without a doubt Michael made her happy. He brought laughter and joy into her world. She was in love with him. His passion, the passion they shared together brought her to life again.
Her knees weakened at the shocking realization and she sat down on the bed. Tiffany picked up the picture the photographer had given her as a keepsake and smiled. Her own personal angel.
That morning, he’d left fourteen red roses and a single chocolate kiss for her. A decision made, she lowered her tense shoulders. She would attend the reunion, happy.
Shaking off the dread, Tiffany showered and joined Michael on the patio, where he sat drinking a cup of coffee.
Picking at her fingernails, she sat beside him on the lounge chair and crossed and uncrossed her legs.
“Come here.” He pulled her to him and she laid her head against his beating heart, finding solace in his arms.
He held her tight and she knew she could never give him up. Two weeks be damned. “I love you,” she mumbled.
She waited, her heart vulnerable. Would he leave?
Michael lifted her from his chest and looked deep into her eyes. He took her hands in his and brushed his lips tenderly over hers. He reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a turquoise bag.
Losing awareness of all around her, she gaped at the blue pouch.
He pulled the white ribbon and reached inside removing a pink diamond engagement ring. “Marry me tonight under the rising moon.” His voice was husky with emotion.
Her hands shook like a California earthquake. She didn’t know what to say. She’d never expected he’d ask her to marry him. The intensity of his gaze was so powerful and more than anything in her life, she wanted him. “Do you love me?”
“I’ve loved you longer than you know.” He slipped the ring onto her ring finger. “A Tiffany for my Tiffany.”
Heat burned her cheeks. Michael truly was her knight and shining armor.
“Tiffany, about tonight.”
She pulled the yellow envelope from her back pocket and handed it to him, smiling. “You’re all I need, my valentine.”
* * * *
Every eye was glued to the enchanting couple as they entered the Millennium Biltmore hotel, Tiffany in a black lace splicing maxi evening gown and Michael in a wine tuxedo.
The entrance to the ballroom was decorated with streamers of red, gold and blue, and a huge teddy bear holding a ‘Welcome to your ten-year reunion class of 2005’ sign sat on one of the bar stools.
Kim came charging up to Tiffany as soon as they entered. She’d agreed to be Tiffany’s Maid of Honor, despite it being the last minute. “Look at that dress! It’s black. You’re getting married in black?”
The shocked horror on her friend’s face brought a peel of laughter from both Michael and Tiffany.
“No, I’ll change right before midnight. Do you have the video ready?”
“Everything’s in place. I hope you don’t mind, but I let a few of the other girls in on our secret. They’ve ordered a cake and champagne to be brought out after the ceremony.” Kim glanced at Michael. “You wouldn’t happen to have a brother hidden in one of your pockets, would you?”
Michael grinned and heard Gabriel snicker behind him. “As a matter of fact, I do. Gabriel, this is Kim.”
Gabriel took Kim’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Nice to meet a friend of Michael’s.”
She stumbled back, breathless. “I was kidding, but what an unexpected surprise.” Kim tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “And I thought I’d be alone on Valentine’s Day.”
The two drifted toward the punch bowl, totally engrossed with each other. Michael nodded to Saint Valentine hidden in the shadows of the curtains.
Loud, booming voices filled the ballroom, chanting, “Don’t stop, don’t foul, don’t lose!” Everyone turned toward the commotion, and the Trojan Rider’s football team came charging in with their dates trailing a few feet behind the rowdy football players.
Tiffany turned her attention back to the man of her dreams, her knight in shining armor, her hero.
Michael kissed her forehead and left her talking with some girlfriends to make the final arrangements for the ceremony.
Tiffany felt the sting of Thomas’ gaze burning a hole between the blades of her shoulders. Calming her seething anger, she turned and faced him. She pasted on a fuck you smile and walked into the ladies’ room.
An entourage of women followed her inside. Tiffany actually felt sorry for the blonde who’d been standing behind him, a pained expression on her tightened lips. It wasn’t Tiffany’s problem any longer. Thanks to Michael, she’d gotten over him. He wasn’t worth her energy, or time.
Kim helped her dress in a simple pearl gown, tapered at her waist and bellowed to her mid-calf. Two of her friends weaved pearls into her hair and applied a light shade of rose to her lips.
The music stopped and the bandleader made an announcement. “Tonight we have a unique request from our very own Prom Queen. She’d like you to share in a very special event in her life. Tonight, under the moonlight, Tiffany and Michael will become husband and wife. If the crowd will make their way out to the arboretum, the wedding will commence in fifteen minutes.”
Tiffany heard the whispers of gossip as the crowd made their way outside.
“A thief, not Tiffany, more likely Thomas.”
“I never believed any of the gossip on Facetime.”
“Did you see that sexy man she’s marrying?”
Another spoke up. “I hear Thomas is seething. It was brilliant having her wedding at the reunion. One way to silence a crowd.”
A satisfied smile pulled at her lips. This was better than revenge. Let him go about his life. She had everything she’d ever wanted—one hot, dark, mysterious, handsome man. Yes, he was a little wacko—but, he was hers. Her own angel.
The wedding march started and, heart bursting with joy, Tiffany walked outside, into the orange glow of the full moon.
THE END
About the Author
Jaylee Austin lives in Apple Valley California with her partner and dog. Jaylee has a Master’s in Education and works to inspire young writers to take the challenge to find their creative mojo.
Jaylee loves to hear from readers, so please e-mail her at JayleeAustin.yahoo.com or follow her on twitter.jaylee_austin.
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