House Of Payne: Twist Part 16

But he had explained that to her, a calm voice inside pointed out. To keep himself from giving in to the temptation she'd presented when he'd believed she was too young and unsullied for an ex-con, he'd built all sorts of mental barriers to put her out of reach.

Obviously he had overcome at least some of those barriers, especially his belief that he wasn't the right kind of man for her. And since he'd taken her to bed, he hadn't made a single reference about her being childish. Heaven knew he treated her like an adult in the bedroom, and she loved how that felt. Not just the s.e.x, though that was spectacular. But even more than that, she loved how the bed had become an equal playing field for them, because there they were equals.

Oh, yes. She loved that part. So, so much.

But they couldn't spend their lives in bed. She had to know if being equals in the bedroom was all he was capable of giving her. That meant only one thing. They had to be in the environment where their relations.h.i.+p had gotten so twisted around in the first place.

She had to go back to House Of Payne.

She's in love. Seriously in love.

Angel woke with a start while Joey's declaration echoed in her ears. By degrees the words faded as the birdsong outside her shuttered window slowly filtered through, along with the bright morning sun glowing through the slats.

Behind her balled-up fetal-curled body, Twist slept on, his arm draped over her waist and holding her against the curve of his body. She smiled as she drank in the gentle weight of that arm and the warmth of his body. The fact that he was a natural-born cuddler never failed to amuse her. She never would have been able to conceive such a notion before she'd been attacked in the House's parking lot.

But her perspective on him had changed so much since then. All the wrongs he had committed in the past no longer looked like wrongs now that she understood his point of view. She'd been so hurt by the viciousness of his bullying that she hadn't been able to see that, from his perspective, he was protecting her in his no-nonsense, get-things-done way.

Throwing away her food? That hadn't been a spiteful attack. He'd been genuinely worried about her-okay, she'd admit it-horrible eating habits, and was trying to give her proper food. That was a sweet thing to do. Sure, his delivery of it sucked b.a.l.l.s, but still... it was sweet Blowing up and calling her an idiot in front of a client? Totally wrong and unacceptable. At the time, however, he'd incorrectly believed she was starting her own concierge business, and had been terrified she'd be going into peoples' private homes without any sort of protection. It still wasn't cool that he'd lost his cool and called her an idiot, but now she knew he'd been seriously wigging out over her safety.

Checking out her client list? At the time she'd been offended, but now she suspected he was doing his best to weed out any potential danger for her so she would be safe. Because he was what Novak and Joey said he was-a good guy. And good guys like Twist instinctively protected the people they cared about, the people they saw as their territory.

The people who belonged to them.

Was that how Twist saw her? In his eyes, did she belong to him?

Slowly she turned onto her back under the weight of his arm, careful not to jostle him, and studied his relaxed face. He was a beautiful man in a dark and dangerous way, even in sleep. She completely understood Joey's instinctive, fl.u.s.tered reaction to Novak when they first met. Twist's gaze had always had that same effect on her, complete with all-over body flushes and stammering. At the time she'd a.s.sumed it was disapproval that made Twist focus with such unblinking, white-hot intensity on her, but now she wasn't so sure. Novak's words had given her a new slant on the whole situation.

I fell insanely in love from the first moment...

That immediately reminded her of Twist's a.s.sertion that unrequited love was the most "insanely devoted" kind of love there was. She knew now that he had always wanted her, even when he'd thought it wasn't appropriate for an ex-con to want a woman like her. But...

Did he love her?

Then there's the problem of working it so that the person you love falls in love with you. Trickiest thing in the book, that one. And if it doesn't work... it's like living through a daily h.e.l.l on earth.

Was it possible...?

With the greatest gentleness, she touched his whisker-rough cheek, and as she reveled in the intimate closeness of simply touching him, something tremendous unfurled inside her-a hidden, sweet vulnerability that flowed out from the core of her and into every corner of her soul. It almost hurt to feel so much, so fast, but it was the most exquisite, overwhelmingly beautiful hurt she'd ever known. Whether he loved her or not was irrelevant. Even if all he wanted from her was a good time, that was okay. She would cherish what they created between them, because it was the most extraordinary thing she had ever known. For the first time she understood her own mother, whom Angel had always thought of as weak to let her father back into her life. If a woman could love a man enough, then what he felt had no bearing on what was important to a woman's heart.

And what was important?

Love.

That emotion she had tried so hard not to feel. That emotion that had flowed out of her almost from the moment the hardened sh.e.l.l she'd had wrapped around her heart had disappeared. She could no longer stop herself from feeling love any more than she could stop the rotation of the planet.

With his face still locked in sleep, Twist turned his cheek into her palm. "Mmm. Angel."

"Right here, my beautiful man." There it was again. My man. She wasn't sure when she had started thinking of Twist as hers, but the when didn't matter. All that mattered was that she now knew why she'd started thinking that way. She thought of Twist as her man because that was what he was, just as she'd become his woman. As crazy as it would have seemed a mere handful of weeks ago, she knew without a doubt that they belonged together.

Because she loved him.

He stretched, and she enjoyed the impressive tightening of muscles beneath his beautiful inked skin by gliding her hands over his chest, along his exposed shoulder and down his upper arm. He made another sleepy sound as his eyes opened and locked unerringly on her, as if he'd been waiting for sleep to be over so he could look at her again.

"Angel. Baby." His smile was brilliant in its warmth, and the arms that held her tightened to bring her up on him as he rolled onto his back. "I love waking up and seeing you first thing. Did you know that?"

"I do now." She stretched her neck so that her lips could touch his in a sweet good-morning kiss. "Did you know that I love looking at your face?"

His ebony brows went up in surprise and what looked like delight. "No. Usually you do your d.a.m.nedest to avoid looking at me."

"Not anymore."

"Yeah? Why not?"

"I woke up," she said simply, and leaned in for another kiss.

She thought a flash that might have been understanding widened his eyes a moment before he took the kiss over, pus.h.i.+ng her hair back before burying his fingers in it to press her deeper into a kiss that kindled and flared within seconds. The press of his warm, naked chest against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s was a sensation she couldn't get enough of, and she rubbed, catlike, over him until her nipples tingled and the kiss threatened to go nuclear.

Oh, yes. She did like how hot the friction got between them.

Without taking his mouth from hers, Twist's hand shot out in a blind grope to the nightstand, where he located the box of condoms that they'd all but depleted the last couple of nights. His hand found hers, pressed the little square pack into her hand before letting his roam freely over her. The surge of his stiffened flesh was getting impossible to ignore as she lay atop him, and she couldn't help but smile at the faint bucking motions of his hips.

He wanted inside. But he was going to have to be patient.

"There are so many things about you that make me happy." With one last deep kiss, she pressed her hands against his rock-solid shoulders and looked down into his eyes-eyes that blazed over her as if he needed to drink in all of her or die. That alone was enough to make her fall in love with him all the more. "You're right. I did avoid looking at you."

"Why?" His hands skimmed down to the backs of her thighs and urged them apart, until they framed his legs. "Was it my fugly mug?"

"You're not fugly. You're beautiful." To her astonishment, and then heart-melting delight, she watched color flood his face. Who knew that tough-as-nails Twist Santiago, Goth ink master of House Of Payne, could blush? "I thought you had no respect for me. I couldn't stand to see that, so I never looked at you."

"You were wrong." Regret puckered those dark brows, and she could see the apology in his soulful eyes as he gazed up at her. "But I'm the one who made you feel that way, so I'm the one who gets to carry that wrong, not you."

"That's why I love looking at you now. Looking at you, seeing you, makes me happier than I can say."

"I've been waiting so long for you to see me," he whispered, his hands moving slowly from her legs up her torso to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His smile was better than suns.h.i.+ne when she arched into his touch, his thumbs teasing her nipples to hard-pebbled peaks. "I almost gave up on the idea."

Her body moved sinuously against his, in time with each stroke of his thumb. "I'm glad you didn't."

"So am I. I never want to miss a moment with you, not even to sleep. Real life with you kicks way more a.s.s than any dream I could cook up."

Joy hit her so hard in an overwhelming wave it brought a warm flood of tears to her eyes. To hide the rush of emotion inundating her, she began to slide down his body.

"I'm glad you think that, but dreams do have their place, you know. For instance, I've been dreaming lately of finding out what every part of you tastes like. That sounds like a useful dream, don't you think?"

He stilled for a full five seconds. Then, quietly, "My Angel might actually be a gift from heaven."

"You can tell me definitively later on if I am or not," she whispered, keeping the condom in her palm for the moment. Instead, she focused on trailing kisses down his taut torso to his shaft, now straight-up rigid and dark with the pulsing blood of a desire barely contained. Curling her fingers gently around his base, she looked up at him to find his dark gaze already riveted on her, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the excitement she could see glittering in his eyes.

"Angel."

Keeping her eyes on his, she ran her tongue along the underside of his c.o.c.k, then swirled it over the purpling crown. His stomach muscles clenched hard as another groan rippled from him, and this one bordered on sounding pained. But as his head dropped back against the pillows, she knew pained was the last thing he was feeling.

Heat bloomed slickly at the juncture of her thighs, her cleft growing achy with a restless need that only Twist was capable of making her feel. "Time now to finally get my answer," she murmured, and her breath backed up in her lungs when he brought his head up to look at her once more, his eyes burning her alive with so much sensual promise she couldn't help but squirm in edgy, feverish l.u.s.t. "I get to find out which you like best-the licking, the circling, or the sucking." With that, she took him in as deeply as she could into her mouth, and found out in short order that like her, he was a definite fan of the sucking.

Chapter Seventeen.

"Angel."

"No."

"Come on, please."

"I said no."

"And I said please. I'm begging here."

"And it's cute, but the answer's still no."

Twist stifled a curse as Angel smoothed the last wrinkle out of the comforter before making sure the bed pillows were fluffed and arranged just so. She liked her personal s.p.a.ce nice and neat, a personality quirk that made him grin-or at least it usually did. But not at the moment. One look at that neatly made bed made him crazy to mess it up again. But for some reason, Angel was bound and determined to acknowledge there was a world outside her bedroom walls.

Seriously, the woman needed to get her priorities straight.

"Look," Angel said, glancing over a shoulder that was covered in a h.e.l.lo Kitty ballerina s.h.i.+rt. "I didn't get anything done at my parents' house yesterday, and I'm not going to do that again today. I'm almost done with packing their stuff up, and I want to get it out of my hair."

"I'll help you," he offered, following her out into the kitchen. "With both of us working on one room, it won't take any time at all."

She shot him a leery glance. "You'll help me pack things up?"

"Absolutely."

"Why do I get the feeling that your idea of packing runs along the line of taking out desk drawers and dumping whatever's in them into boxes?"

"Because it is."

Her laughter was so sweet it tied him up in knots as she continued on into the living room. "And this is why I don't want you helping me when it comes to packing up the office. Let me just get the mail from yesterday, and we can be on our way."

"Our time would be so much better spent in bed," Twist stated in what he hoped was a logical tone, raising his voice so that she could hear him. "It's Sat.u.r.day, which means I have to be at work by one this afternoon. That means we'd have to leave your parents' place by noon to drop you back here before I head off to work. Since you're only going to get about three hours to pack up an entire office, why not blow it off entirely? We can spend all day tomorrow working on packing it up."

"I don't want to do that," she announced, coming back into the condo with a handful of mail from the box placed by the front door, "because I know you too well."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that by this time tomorrow, you're going to want to spend your one and only full day off doing anything other than wrapping things up at my parents' house, and quite frankly I feel the same way. I'm looking forward to spending the entire day alone with you."

"The entire day alone." He couldn't stop himself from grinning as he envisioned all the possibilities that one phrase inspired. Then reality decided to kick him in the a.s.s, and the smile turned into a grimace. "The entire day, yeah. But the night's going to be another story."

"Why?"

"It's Sunday," he explained on a sigh. "Sunday night in my world means Sunday family dinner with the entire Santiago tribe at my parents' place. You're going with me," he added when she opened her mouth, in all probability to try and wiggle out of it. "So, unless one of us comes down with a legit case of appendicitis complete with surgical scar and doctor's note, there's no getting out of it."

"I don't want to get out of it. I like your family."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely." She smiled as if spending time with his family was akin to winning the lottery, before tearing up something that was clearly junk mail and tossing it in the trash. "Also, you don't have to drop me off here before heading off to work today. I think I'd like to go with you to the House and drive myself home from there. Is my car still in the lot?"

"Yeah, it is." He stared at her, not bothering to hide his surprise. "This is definitely a new tune. I thought you never wanted to see that place again."

Her nose crinkled in a cute way. "I do and I don't. I've given it a lot of thought and considering all the years I've been with House Of Payne-and the success I've achieved because of its existence-I feel like I owe both Payne and Scout more of an explanation than what I've given them. And like I said, my car's still there, so at the very least I have to go and pick it up. It would be rude to not drop in and say h.e.l.lo while I'm there."

He wasn't quite sure how to frame the next question, so he did what he always did when in doubt, and plunged straight ahead. "Are you having second thoughts about quitting?"

"I don't know," she said, this time distractedly as she stared at a piece of mail she'd just opened. The vibe in the room suddenly changed, and not in a good way. Automatically he stepped forward, zeroing in on the blank envelope she held as she scanned what looked like a letter.

Wait.

A blank envelope?

His danger-sensing instincts instantly slammed to the fore. "Angel? What is it?"

"This is... I don't know. What the heck is this?" Bewildered eyes that held the beginnings of fear locked onto his as she held out the letter. Quickly he took it from her and scanned it. As he did, his blood turned into a jagged ice floe in his veins.

Young lady, I know this will be difficult for you to believe, but you have to know that you are in DANGER. The man you are with, Oliver Santiago, is nothing more than a violent animal with a criminal record. Every word he says is a lie. You cannot trust him, you cannot believe in him, and if you cross him there is no telling what a savage like Santiago will do to an innocent little thing like you. Please, I beg you, get away from him before it's too late. From, your guardian angel.

It was as if a dense black cloud had raced across Angel's world to choke out the sun and chase away all the warmth that the day had started out with. The first thing she had done was contact the property manager to ask if there was any footage of someone snooping around her place within the last forty-eight hours. Since she was told it would take a few hours to check with their security company, she and Twist then drove to her parents' place as planned, and she did her best to hurry through the packing of all the bookshelves that lined one wall, and a filing cabinet in the corner, leaving just the desk to be cleared and cleaned out tomorrow.

But as she worked, doing her best to list the contents of each box, placing the listed inventory within and taping the box up, she couldn't get her mind off the anonymous letter.

Oliver Santiago is nothing more than a violent animal.

Every word he says is a lie.

You are in DANGER.

The alarm that had first been sparked by this obvious invasion of her personal s.p.a.ce by a stranger had been devoured by a slow-boiling anger, and it was enough to burn away the numbing fog that had encapsulated her brain.

Oliver.

She'd known Twist for four freaking years and she hadn't learned his given name in all that time. True, they hadn't exactly been the closest of pals during that period, but she knew better than to think his legal name was anything but a well-kept secret.

Whoever had targeted her mailbox with this poisoned letter, though, knew his given name. Yet she had been referred to as "young lady" when the rest of her mail in the box had clearly displayed her full name. To her mind, that meant she wasn't known to the person who'd written the note.

But since she'd left her delivered mail in the box from yesterday, it was possible her name was known now.