Angel: Rochon Bears (4 page)

B
ecca made
it home to her little two-bedroom cottage just off Main Street. She’d bought it a few years ago because it made her think of a fairytale house. It was a craftsman-style with little dormer windows sticking out of the roof. The long, narrow porch was just wide enough for a swing and a few chairs on the front.

The little old lady that had owned it before had bought the house new in the nineteen fifties. She’d moved in with her husband, managed to raise two children in it, and lived in it long after her husband passed away.

The owner had been an amateur gardener, and the yard looked like she had tried to cram every possible flower in it that would grow in Washington’s finicky weather. There were little paths through what had probably been a regular lawn but was now raised beds and islands of flowering shrubs. The array of flora would draw hummingbirds and butterflies in the spring. Becca would sit on her porch swing with a throw blanket over her lap drinking tea and watching the life flicker through the petals and leaves.

This morning, though, she didn’t pause to appreciate the scenery. She still felt like she was escaping a crime. Walking in, she tossed her purse onto the chintz couch in her living room and flicked off her shoes by the door.

The inside of her house looked like the outside. Country chic and full of color. She had painted the walls a lemon chiffon that was probably a tad too bright but made her happy every time she saw them. Most of her furniture was found items from estate sales or vintage shops. The woodwork was usually white and worn, the accessories soft and floral. Her bedroom was the same with fewer flowers and more soothing earth tones.

She had a king-size bed that she had crammed into the small master bedroom. She loved being able to wake up sideways on her bed without arms or legs dangling off. Normally, she was a fitful sleeper. She thought of the previous night. She must have passed out because clearly, Angel was able to fall asleep without her thrashing.

“Later. You can think about that later.” This was a gentle reminder to herself, but it was just words. She could still feel his hands, his mouth, and his cock. He had marked her literally.

Walking into the bathroom off her bedroom, she turned the handle on the shower and let it warm up. Slipping out of her clothes, she looked in the mirror and let out a gasp when she saw the extent of the damage.

She was covered,
freaking covered
, in hickeys. Big ones, little ones, ones with even a faint outline of teethmarks. And it wasn’t just her neck. It was her shoulders, her breasts, a few scattered over her tummy, and she knew, without looking, there were more than a few along her inner thighs.

The first time he’d done it, she remembered thinking he might leave a mark, but an admonishment wasn’t what came out of her mouth.

* * *

R
oom
10

“
D
o it again
, Angel. I like it. It feels so good.”

The mouth that had just sucked hard on her neck released, and his face came up over hers. She could see the shadowy planes of his face now.

“What do you like about it? Tell me.”

“It feels so good it makes my pussy ache. Then it hurts, and that makes my nipples ache,” she admitted.

“Good girl, that’s just what I want it to feel like. Hot and cold, hard and soft, and everything in between,” he said roughly.

* * *

B
ecca had never had
anyone bite her during sex. But whether it was the alcohol or just the fact she figured she was already naked in bed with the man, she not only went along but encouraged it. The sharp pain of the blood rushing to her skin made her feel alive. All of her nerve endings were on fire, and she started to crave the rush.

“Oh—no—I begged,” she moaned, dropping her head as she gripped her sink. She had begged long and loud, many times. Every time she thought she might come, Angel would back off just enough for her to lose it. Normally in her experience “losing it” meant it was darn near impossible to get it back.

Not with wonder boy last night. Her frustration and the unfulfilled desires would just smolder until Angel had her at the peak again.

Seeing the bruised circles around her thighs, she sighed and got into the shower. Tilting her head back, she tried to push the images out of her head. But they weren’t going anywhere.

* * *

R
oom
10

“
B
ecca
, spread your legs for me.”

The order was quiet but forceful. She immediately complied, stretching her legs wide on the bed. She felt the bed shift as Angel got up, and she heard clothes hitting the floor.

The bed dipped again as he returned, this time hot, hard skin slid against hers.

“Wow, you’re fit.”

“I’m glad you like my body, because I’m fucking loving yours. You’re soft and curvy in all the right places. I love how you smell. Now I’m going to see how you taste. I want you to put your hands over your head and keep them there. Don’t move them or there will be consequences.”

Jerking her head up, Becca tried to glare into the darkness. “What? Consequences? Like what?”

“I’d like to spank you, but I think in your case you would like it too much. I think I’ll keep you from coming to punish you for not following instructions.”

“Hmph, you’re awful bossy for someone your age.”

“In bed, I’m always the boss. Outside, I’m docile as a kitten. I like what I like, and you have to trust me that I know you’ll like it too.”

Becca thought that was an awful lot to ask of a one-night stand, but what the hell.

“Fine, but only because I’m horny and really don’t want to pass out on you before we get to the good stuff.” Becca moved her arms above her head and felt her swollen breasts pull at the new position of her arms.

“There’s no way I’m letting you fall asleep on me. I have lots of inventive ways to keep you awake.”

W
hen Becca finished her shower
, she cranked the radio in the bathroom as she got ready for work. The noise was supposed to drown out her thoughts, and it did, for a while. Until she had to find clothing that would cover all the marks on her neck. Normally, she liked long-sleeved blouses that had decent v-necks. She thought it balanced the professional and the feminine. True, it wasn’t what she should have been worrying about while at work. But she dealt with the public a fair amount and always wanted to look her best.

She found a friendly smile and a helpful disposition smoothed a lot of ruffled feathers when dealing with the county citizens. Now, she was going to have to tie a scarf around her neck like she was going to a fifties sock hop. That wouldn’t look out of place for her at all. She didn’t even own a turtleneck sweater; they made her feel claustrophobic. Pulling on a green plaid skirt and a soft black long-sleeve shirt, she slid into a pair of thigh high stockings that she normally never wore. They had been an impulse purchase along with the garter that matched. Today felt like a good day to wear it. Glancing in the mirror above the dresser, she felt like she at least looked confident.

She pulled open a drawer and started searching through the back of her lingerie stash. She knew there were some old Christmas scarves that she’d received as gifts. Pulling out a few, she discarded the obvious ones with trees and wreathes on them. She found a red plaid one that she’d have to make work. Tying the scrap of silk around her neck, she felt it settle over the marks on the back of her neck. She suddenly remembered how she got them.

* * *

R
oom
10

B
ecca felt
herself flipping through the air; her body limp from the crashing climax she had just experienced. She’d been holding back for so long. She was utterly devastated now that her body had felt the complete exhaustion from having every cell in her body metaphorically explode.

She found herself on her hands and knees; her ass pulled high into the air.

“Again?” she gasped.

“You didn’t think I got you warmed up to just fall asleep now did you?”

“Umm, I’m not a time keeper, but I think we’ve been at this a while.”

“Exactly, I like to warm you up slow so we can really have some fun.”

Becca was aware of the time. Their warm up was around an hour and a half. That was ninety minutes of her not getting her orgasm. That was twice as long as any sexual experience she had ever had before. Thirty minutes was always respectable she’d thought. Now the bar was set impossibly high.

* * *

W
hat followed was
something that Becca never thought she would even want to experience. Now the tiny taste she got made her think there was a world of possibilities that she could be willing to try.

Shaking off that thought, she put on her standard makeup, pinned up her hair, and grabbed a granola bar to munch in the car on the way to work.

Her trip was a lesson in focus. Hyper focus on the road, extra pause at all stop signs. Listening to the blather of morning radio. Anything to keep her mind from replaying the previous night.

She knew she had a stack of permits to go through when she got to work as she was covering for someone else. Those alone should keep her busy for the day. If that didn’t work, there was always a lobotomy.

* * *

“
Y
ou swore
you were going to tell me how it went last night,” Alicia said, holding a mocha cup above Becca. “Nice scarf, by the way. Borrow that from your grandma?”

“Shut it. Give me the caffeine, and nobody gets hurt,” she grumbled.

“I’m going to forgive you, because I’m sure that’s just your hangover talking. I love you so you can have your mocha.”

“Gee, thanks,” Becca mumbled. She took her first fortifying sip of sugar and caffeine. “Where’s the donuts?”

Tossing a box at her, Alicia settled herself on her friend’s desk with a maple bar that was still warm. “Becca, come on, spill the beans. Did you actually spend the night with him?”

Grabbing a glazed old-fashioned from the box, Becca couldn’t help but blush. Her cheeks turned red, and the heat crept up her neck.

“Maybe,” she mumbled around the lid of her cup. She couldn’t help but dart her eyes away from the inquiring eyes staring at her.

“You slut! I’m so jealous!” Alicia crowed. “I need to find myself a big burly man that can handle me. I don’t get why people think I’m so intimidating. I’m a soft, delicate flower.”

“Yeah, sure you are. You have bigger feet than most guys I’ve met,” Becca laughed.

“True, shoe shopping is a bitch,” Alicia agreed. “So? What happened?”

Becca didn’t know what to say. How did she tell her friend that she had the most amazing night of sex in her entire life? That she couldn’t stop thinking of all the things she was willing to do and with such little coercion. Hell, there was no coercion. She was a willing party in it, and she did feel a tiny bit slutty about the night. But it kind of made her feel naughty instead of embarrassed.

“So?”

“Well—I spent the night with him,” she said, knowing that wasn’t going to appease her friend.

“And I’m assuming there was some naked time together?”

“Yes, nosy, there was naked time. A lot of it,” she admitted.

“Well? Was it horribly embarrassing naked time or boom chika bow wow naked time?”

“Seriously, what are you twelve? It was good, okay? Really, really, good,” Becca said quietly.

“He was young. How young was he?”

“Twenty-one, but he was no boy. He was all man, Alicia; I don’t even know how to explain last night. He was in control like he was some bossy sex god. I don’t know if what I remember was all real, or it was just because I was intoxicated.”