Angel (A Companion Book to Monster) (Impossible #1.5) (5 page)

“Of course,” I said.  “Sorry, I should have thought of that.”  I couldn’t help taking in the sight of her in my t-shirt and sweats, and I again felt that strange sense of satisfaction at the sight.  I was even more pleased when she blushed under my scrutiny. 
God, that was a beautiful color.  As much as I would like to see her in my clothes every day, I guessed that it wouldn’t be all that pleasant for her.  I wanted to make her more comfortable with us, to make her feel less like a prisoner.  Getting some personal effects for her might make her feel more like she had a place of her own here.  “I guess you’ll be needing new clothes, too,” I said after a moment.

Her mouth twisted down in distaste, but she quickly schooled her expression to amiability.  “Yeah,” she replied genially, “that would be nice.”

She let out a small, resigned sigh and shot a look at me, a curious mix of emotions dancing in her eyes.  There was a hint of appreciation intermingled with resentment.  When she noticed that I was studying her, she gave me a small, sweet smile, blinking away whatever it was that I had seen.  I held her in my gaze, trying to penetrate her affable mask.  What was she thinking?  But she was too good, too practiced at hiding her feelings.  I wanted to press her, but I decided that I had pushed her enough already; I always seemed to fuck things up when I gave in to my curiosity about her and pried.

I shrugged, leaving her to her secrets.

“You think you could do me another favor, buddy?”  I addressed Bradley.  He glowered at me, knowing what I was about to ask.

“I am
not
going shopping for her,” he said staunchly.

Okay, I was pissed.  Did he really expect her to stay here forever without any possessions of her own?  She wasn’t a prisoner.  Well, maybe she was, but that didn’t mean that we had to treat her like one.  But I knew that telling Bradley off would just make things worse, and we were in enough of a clusterfuck as it was.  “I know that your sense of style is equivalent to a blind old schoolteacher’s who shops at the Family Dollar,” I joked, “but it’s not like I’m asking you to go on a reality show to be America’s Next Top Stylist.” 

Bradley didn’t so much as crack a smile.  Either he seriously had his panties in a bunch or I was off my game.  Come on, that deserved a chuckle at the very least.  I rolled my eyes at him.  “I’ll pay for it.  And I’ll owe you one.”

There was a moment’s pause, and then an evil smile spread over his face.  Okay, so I had him smiling, but I didn’t trust that look at all.  “If I do this,” he said slowly, “you’re coming to Jolly
Lolly’s with me as soon as you get better.”

Fuck, no.

I groaned.  “Aw, man, you know I hate that place.  The only thing more disease-ridden than the girls in there is the carpeting.  And the only thing more desperate is the décor’s serious need of an overhaul.  I feel like I need a shower just thinking about it.”  I shuddered.  The man clearly wanted to punish me in the worst way possible.  But this was certainly preferable to his open aggression, and I couldn’t deny that it was nice to see him smiling for a change.  Even if his grin had a maliciously pleased edge to it.

“I know you hate it,” he said matter-of-factly.  “So that’s why it’s part of the deal.  You torture me, I get to torture you.”

I shot him a level look.  “Going to pick up a few women’s clothes is not torture,” I said flatly.

“No,” he agreed easily, “But it’s my own personal version of hell.”

“I would say that Jolly Lolly’s is hell,” I retorted, “but even the Devil wouldn’t dare venture in there.”  But Bradley’s grin remained firmly fixed in place, and for all my efforts to look disgusted, I couldn’t hold back a small smile.  It was nice to see my friend again.  When he was showing this side of himself, I could almost forget his new dark persona.

“Fine,” I caved after a moment.  “I’ll go once. 
One night only.  You got that?”

“Well,” Bradley said lightly, “that all depends on how many more favors you ask me to do.”

Right.  Keep favors to a minimum.
  If that wasn’t motivation to get well soon, I didn’t know what was.

“I’ll do everything I can to avoid it,” I promised.  But I wasn’t going to let him leave when he was on top; it simply wasn’t acceptable for him to look so smug.  “Now run along, errand boy, the lady needs something to wear,” I said imperiously.

Bradley gave a derisive snort, but he turned with a little wave.  “I’ll be back as soon as humanly possible,” he said over his shoulder before shutting the bedroom door behind him.

“There’s no need to rush,” I called after him, my tone light.  But inside I was hoping that this errand might take him a while; I wanted to give Claudia a reprieve from his threatening presence.

“Oh, believe me, there is,” he called back as he slid the lock home.  “I’m getting this over with as quickly as possible.”

My relief at Bradley’s absence dissolved once I was alone with Claudia again.  Her body relaxed slightly as her fear melted, and I was filled with a sick sense of satisfaction at her relative ease around me.  Sure, I had protected her from Bradley, and that was likely why she was slightly more comfortable around me.  But she was a long way from trusting me, much less giving a shit about me.

But if that was true, then why had her demeanor begun to betray lust for me that mirrored my own for her?  It was undeniable: there was a palpable erotic tension that was beginning to pulse to life between us, making the air suddenly thick with denied passion. 

When she had blushed so beautifully earlier, I had suspected her innocence.
  Did she understand what was passing between us?  I certainly did.  Only, I had never experienced attraction this instantaneous nor this intense.

“
Soooo,” I said the word slowly, not allowing her the option of ignoring me.  Her eyes snapped to mine, and I felt a flare of masculine satisfaction at my small victory.  I had her full attention now.  My lips were twisted upward in a knowing, slightly mocking smirk.  The way she was looking at me was almost hesitant, and I knew that I was throwing her off-balance.  It gave me the opportunity that I needed to manipulate her into opening up to me when her guard was down. 

“It’s going to be a long-ass day if we sit here in silence,” I pointed out casually.  “Care to try having a civil conversation?  You know, one where you don’t snap at me every second sentence.  It’s a cute habit, but it does make talking a bit difficult.”  I sighed dramatically, imbuing my tone with a lightness that let her know that I was teasing her.  “And I honestly don’t know if I could handle your onslaught in my fragile condition.  You might just be the first woman to break me.”  My smirk widened to my customary cocky grin, daring her to rise to my bait.

But she didn’t have a hope of breaking me; no woman did.  I wanted to break
her.
  My cock jerked at the prospect.  I craved to hold her down, to wring ecstasy from her body until her mind was utterly shattered, until she would do anything that I asked of her if only to earn more of that sweet release that I knew I was more than capable of granting her.

The way that her lips pursed in annoyance at my show of arrogance was adorable.  I observed her carefully as she wrestled with the irritation that made the small lines around her eyes crease, but after a moment, she let out a resigned sigh.  The small show of capitulation, the knowledge that I was slowly gaining ground inch by inch, only increased my pleasure.  Still, when she spoke she sounded peeved.

“Fine,” she said shortly.  “The weather really is lovely today.  Not that I can really tell while cooped up in here, but the view through the window is nice.”

I could tell that she was trying to goad my anger by reminding me of the unforgivable fate that I had inflicted upon her
.  But even though guilt flared in my gut, I refused to allow her to manipulate me.

“Hey,” I said easily, determined to keep her talking, “beats solitary confinement.  You get a room with a view and an excellent conversationalist as a cell mate.  What more could you ask for?”

She rolled her eyes at me.  The little show of impertinence made the beast stir within me, and I indulged in a brief fantasy of correcting her, of reprimanding her.  I pushed the image away, shelving it for later rather than obliterating it as I should have done. 

“That has yet to be determined,” she said disparagingly.  “So far all I see is a cocky, horny asshole.  I wouldn’t exactly call our verbal volleys ‘great conversation.’”

I couldn’t help but laugh, surprised at her gumption.  One minute I thought I was thoroughly in control of our interactions, and the next she was trying to knock me right back down a few pegs.  Well I wasn’t going to concede so easily.  “You are a regular little spitfire, aren’t you?  Well, I don’t mind.  Keeps things interesting.” 

I was enjoying teasing her, but I was suddenly struck by a deep desire to learn more about her; her feisty nature and the challenge in her eyes piqued my curiosity
as well as my lust.  “Enough about the weather,” I said with exaggerated seriousness.  “I have a very important question for you.  Consider carefully, as your response will determine whether you’re cool or not.  Claudia,” I said her name solemnly.  “What is your favorite TV show?”

I was surprised to see that enticing shade of pink bloom on her cheeks once again in response to my simple question.  Her perfect white teeth sunk lightly into her full lower lip, and the sight of her bashful uncertainty made my stomach do a little flip.

“Ummm…  I don’t really watch TV,” she admitted.

I couldn’t help my surprised expression.  I certainly hadn’t been expecting that.  Who didn’t watch TV?  Claudia didn’t exactly strike me as a soap opera junkie, but I could see her tuning in to more cerebral programming.  Like NOVA or something on the History Channel.  But apparently even educational programs were a waste of her formidable brain power.  “Okay,” I said after a moment. 
“How about your favorite book?”  Reading was what smart people did for a more intellectually stimulating act of escapism, wasn’t it?

But the pink of her cheeks turned almost scarlet as her blood heated her pale skin.  “I don’t really read for pleasure either.”

Seriously? 
I knew that being a doctor probably took up a lot of time, but what kind of person denied themself any personal pleasures?  The thought didn’t sit well with me.  Claudia was far too interesting to live such a closeted lifestyle.

She made an exasperated noise, and her expression hardened from one of embarrassment to something defensive.  I hadn’t meant to offend her, but my shock must have been clear on my face.  “Maybe
Grey’s Anatomy,
then,” she conceded. 

“That’s not exactly a ‘fun’ book,” I said.  “What are you, a robot?”

I regretted the words almost as soon as they left my mouth.  But I truly didn’t understand how a person could go through life in such cold isolation.  I had thought that I kept myself isolated, but Claudia’s emotional walls were clearly far thicker than my own.  I again found myself wondering what terrible things she must have suffered that had shaped her into this guarded woman.  My heart ached at the thought of her in pain.  Those little flashes of innocence that I had seen didn’t seem to extend beyond her sexual experience.  Her harsh expression told me that life had robbed her of her innocence long ago.

“I’m a doctor,” she snapped.  “I don’t exactly have time for things like TV and books that don’t pertain to my work.  Funnily enough, I value being good at what I do over allowing insipid dramas to take up space in my brain.”

I could understand being dedicated to your job, but her rationalization still didn’t satisfy me.  “Definitely not a robot,” I nodded decisively.  “You’re far too easy to get a rise out of for that.  But not entirely human either.  Do you have any life outside of your job?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but I could still see the flash of pain in them. 

“I was right,” she said acerbically.  “Turns out you are a shit conversationalist.”  She folded her arms across her chest and turned her back on me, but I could tell that the stance was more defensive than defiant.

Shit. 
Why couldn’t I stop fucking up every time I opened my mouth?

“Claudia,” I said her name contritely, hating the sight of how I had hurt her.  “Look, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean-”

“You never do seem to say what you mean,” she snapped, cutting me off.  “We’re done talking.”

The interlude from her hatred had been all too brief.  I could practically feel the anger and hurt rolling off of her as she sat stiffly beside me, and it only reawakened my own fury at myself.  The tension between us this time was colored with something darker as all of the loathing in the room was directed at me, pressing against me
mercilessly.  My muscles flexed as though in an effort to fight against the weight of it, my jaw clenched from the strain.

I cursed myself for ever opening my stupid mouth, and the sick,
perverse nature of all of my lustful thoughts came crashing down on me.  But even then, images of holding her down, of ruthlessly using her body for our mutual pleasure until I earned her sweet submission, ran across my mind with horrible, sharp clarity.

I breathed deeply in order to center myself, but inhaling her sweet scent only added to my torment.