Angel's Hero

Chapter 19

He was in a great mood.
The air was fresh as he walked back into the department after doing his round on patrol. Summer was well on its way.
Conner took a sip of the coffee he'd bought at Winters' Brew, sighing as he swallowed the creamy liquid.
It was Friday, and he had a rare full weekend off to look forward to. Maybe he'd take Angel out? Should he dare? Could he without being tempted to move past the friendship he'd offered? Did he want to move past it, knowing what he did?
Looking at his watch, he saw it was almost time for him to end his shift.
"Almost three o'clock, Marie," he called as he sailed past her spot at the front desk.
"Robert Mason has been trying to reach you for the last ten minutes. He's called at least five times. I told him you were due back now, but he keeps calling. Want me to get him on the line for you?"
Conner's mood soured a bit. What could be so important? If there was an emergency, he wouldn't have waited for Conner to return. Conner realized he still hadn't given his friend his new cell number.
"I'll call him from my office, thanks Marie."
The line at the desk rang, and Marie answered with their greeting, "Boothbay Sheriff's Department, how can I- oh, hi again, Robert. Yeah, he's just stepped in. Sure, I'm sending you through to him now. Okay, bye."
Marie nodded at him, and he went through to his office, picking up the phone on the third ring.
"Hey Rob, what's up?" Conner kept his tone light.
As he listened though, his face turned dark, and then his voice boomed.
"SHE DID WHAT?!"
A few deputies stuck their heads over their computers to look at him, but quickly disappeared behind their screens again when the Sheriff, a scowl blacker than black covering his face, emerged from his office at speed.
He was carrying the dark brown jacket of the uniform he had started wearing since meeting Angel, and stormed past the front desk again.
"I'm taking the cruiser. No, I don't need back up. Yes, everything is fine. At least it will be when I get my hands on her. See you Monday."
With that, Conner stomped out, not leaving room for anyone else to speak.
Marie blinked, looked around and saw a number of other heads peeking into the front area.
Picking up the phone, she dialed the number for Twin Mason's, and said immediately into the line when she heard Robert's voice, "Who's the Sheriff going to kill?"
Marie, stunned by the modified story that came over the line, laughed.
"That poor girl is in for it now!"
Robert returned her laugh. "That she is."
"It's about damn time!"

*

Angel had arrived at the hotel a just before four o'clock, and she'd contacted Henry, the man she was to meet in a little over an hour, at five o'clock.
Then she'd sent Michelle a text telling her she was safe in her room at the downtown hotel.
Henry was a sweet, older man. In his early forties, the attractive man had been open and honest with her about his previous failed relationships. She'd agreed with him that his ex-wife did sound like a crazy person, and controlling. She'd explained her predicament, being open with him after he'd opened to her, and her intent for the weekend.
She was just looking for sex.
He'd been surprised, and flattered, and had spent the rest of the week leading up until her departure sending her cute texts.
She'd been so sure.
Now, as she stood in her hotel room, looking at herself in the black dress, curlers in her hair, make up applied, Angel felt her nerves soar into her throat.
Could she really do this? Should she do this?
Reaching for the curlers in her hair, Angel pulled them out one at a time while deep in thought.
Had she really thought she'd have been able to go through with having sex with a stranger? Especially when the only man she could think about was Conner? Oh, lord, she'd made a mistake. Feeling like every kind of fool, Angel typed up an apology to Henry, not brave enough to face him at all. She couldn't go through with it.
She apologized profusely in her message and then hit send before she could second-guess the action.
A minute later she got a reply.
Whoa. What an asshole.
Henry had used some pretty disgusting language to describe her, telling her she was ugly anyways, and that he wouldn't have had sex with her even if he'd been paid.
Well. Obviously not a fan of being turned down, Henry had shown his true colors. She wondered about men, and their tendancy to lash out like little brats when they didn't get their way.
Anyway. That was that.
Feeling immensely better, if a little disappointed that she was still in the same boat as before, Angel sat at the vanity and took a cleansing wipe to her face to remove the carefully applied make up. She would just have to find another way to get Conner into bed.
Look at you, focusing on sex. So like a man.
She called down to the front desk to order a bottle of sparkling wine, the best they had, fully intending to make the most of her first night in Portland.
She'd prepaid for the two nights, and had organized the time off from work, so why shouldn't she enjoy the little break?
Pulling the robe provided by the hotel over her arms, and sliding her feet into the slippers, Angel considered her options. She could find a luxurious spa in town, and really indulge herself. Or perhaps she'd spend the entire time guzzling down sparkling wine and chocolate covered strawberries. Or maybe, she'd use the time wisely, planning her attack on Conner, so that the man had little choice but to give in and take her. Ravish her as she so desperately wanted. Poor man.
A knock at the door took her away from browsing through the menu. She'd decided heaps of junk food were called for.
Opening the door, the tip for the porter in her hand for the speedy delivery of the sparkling wine, Angel froze.
Conner stood in front of her, his chest heaving.
She blinked.
Nope, still there.
"Conner?" She said his name softly. Still not quite believing her eyes.
"Don't do it," he said the words through constricted muscles in his neck. She saw his veins pulsing at the hollow of his throat.
"Do what? What are you doing here?" Angel stepped towards him to look out into the hallway, and looked both ways. He was alone. Had thinking about him constantly manifested him here?
Moving towards her, Conner forced her backwards, his steps determined.
"Conner, I don't understand," Angel retreated into the room, her hands moving behind her to feel for the back of the sofa she knew to be there in her suite. "What are you doing here?"
She hit the sofa, and rested against it.
"I'm stopping you from making a big mistake."
"Mistake? What mistake?" Angel watched as he closed the door behind him.
She took in his uniform, noticing the jacket in his right hand, his knuckles white as he clenched the material. Her eyes returned to his face, and she took a breath at the intensity of the look there.
"Tell me what you're doing here. Right now, Conner Grayson." Angel folded her arms over her chest.
"I can't let you go through with sleeping with a stranger," he dropped his jacket to the floor.
"What?" Realization dawned on Angel. "I am going to kill Michelle. She told you?" Angel dropped her face into her hands.
She felt Conner in front of her. The energy pulsating from him penetrated her embarrassment at being caught out. She lifted her head slightly, and looked at the buttons on his shirt.
His breathing shuddered out of him as she raised her eyes slowly. Heat radiated out of his gaze.
"But, why are you here, Conner," Angel was afraid of the answer.
She craved the answer. Could it be that he was about to get what she wanted? Needed?
"I couldn't let you be with anyone else," he said it simply. He stepped even closer to her, his legs bumping her knees.
His eyes bored into hers. She felt his energy penetrate her veins.
"Say it, Conner," Angel dared him, raising her eyebrow in challenge. "Say you want me."
"I want you."
"Say it again," she closed her eyes, holding her breath. Ten seconds of tortured silence before he spoke.
And when he did, his voice was raspy, deep, and his breath was on her cheek as he leaned forward to utter, "I want you, Angel."
She exhaled, and suddenly, he was kissing her.
He swept her up in his arms, pulling her up against the solid strength of his body. Angel put her hands on his face, then spearing her fingers into his hair and gripping tight, holding him to her.
His mouth opened over hers, and his tongue played against the inside of her lips. She melted against him, her moan into his mouth egging him on. His hands were on her hips, encompassing them.
He lifted her to sit more fully on the back of the sofa, and stepped between her legs. The untied robe parted, revealing the dress she had yet to remove; it's tight hem above her knees straining against her skin.
His hands travelled to the inside of the robe, up her sides, to close over her breasts.
A tremble passed through him. "God, Angel, you drive me insane."
The words, spoken against her lips, sent thrills through her. She pulled at the hem of her dress, freeing her legs. She spread them wide, then put her hands on his sides and pulled him close.
A guttural sound came from him, as they connected at her center. It empowered Angel.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Go away," Conner said, tearing his lips from hers.
"It's the champagne," she said between kisses. "I ordered it. Get it."
"Yes, ma'am," he smiled at her as he stepped away from her, and took the cash tip she'd dropped on the floor when she'd backed away from him.
He opened the door, took the bottle and ice bucket, handed over the tip, and shut the door in the porter's face.
After a moments thought, he pulled it open again and put the do not disturb sign on the handle, then shut and locked the door.
When he turned around, Angel was no longer seated on the back of the sofa.
She was standing at the foot of the bed on the other side of the room, the robe piled around her feet. She looked at him intently.
This was happening, now. She knew it, and the thought electrified her from the inside out in anticipation. He stalked towards her, leaving the ice bucket on the table near the door before stopping in his tracks.
Angel had her hands under the hem of the skin-tight dress, and was working it up over her thighs. She inched the soft material of the garment up, up, up, until it reached her belly. Then in one swift movement, she whipped it over her head.
Standing naked in front of Conner except for the bit of lace over her center, she watched him looking at her. Staring at her.
Eyes roaming over every inch of her, sending trails of fire across her skin.
It was a heady sight, seeing the desire in his gaze. Her stomach soared into her throat as she saw the pupils of his eyes dilate, as they fixated on her exposed breasts.
Resisting the urge to cover herself, she put a finger to her mouth, and closed her teeth on the nail.
She was suddenly nervous.
At the sound he made, her eyes rounded.
Pinching with her thumb, she pulled at her bottom lip as he moved closer to her, almost about to speak, yet afraid if she did, it would break the spell. He didn't give her the chance.
In an instant he had her in his arms again. He closed his arms around her lower back, arching her, curving her into him. He bent over her, and she secured her arms around his neck, the kiss turning frantic as she pulled him closer.
Turning her slightly, he scooped her up, like he had before, and Angel laughed as they fell onto the bed. Conner smiled down at her. He'd raised himself onto an elbow, bringing his face above hers, his clothed body pressed to her side.
He trailed a hand from her neck, down between her breasts without touching either, to her navel, and then back up to her throat.
"I have to ask, at least one more time, Angel," his hand stopped moving. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"I can't promise you more. You understand that?"
"Yes," she said again, squirming. Aching.
"Angel, look at me," he brought his hand to her face, and swept his thumb over her cheek. "Are you sure?"
"Shut up and kiss me, Conner."
He did.
Angel let her hands wander. She fought with the buttons of his shirt, and chuckling at her frustrations, he helped her. Sitting up, he faced away from her, his feet on the floor. He took his shirt off.
Angel seized the moment and latched onto his back as he reached to untie his boots.
She pressed her breasts against the muscles of his back, her hands trailing over his chest, arms and sides. Her mouth dropped soft kisses on his neck, her tongue flicked his earlobe.
Conner kicked his shoes off as fast as he could.
Turning towards her, he pushed her flat on the bed. As he leaned over her, his knees and hands dipped on either side of her.
He kissed her, deeply, soothing her.
She trailed her hands down his chest, over his stomach, and fastened on the buckle of his belt.
He let her undo, and remove it. It sailed over the side of the bed to join his shirt and shoes.
Her hands returned to the button, flicked it open, but he grabbed her wrists, both in one hand as she made a move for the zipper, and lifted her hands up above her head.
He dropped his mouth to her neck, trailing kisses over her jawline, her collarbone, her breasts.
When he swirled a tongue around her nipple, Angel gasped, her hands flying to the sides of his head, holding him there as she arched into his mouth.
He turned his attention to her other breast, and lavished the same on it.
Moving down her body, he dipped his tongue into her navel before running it over the edge of her lace thong she still wore.
He moved slowly and continued on down her leg, placing slow kisses on her thigh, the inside of her knee, her ankle, the arch of her foot.
Her hands were fisted in the covers, her breath heaving in her chest. Eyes open, she watched him. He worked his way up her other leg, and when he got to the lace this time, he pressed his open mouth over her core.
She bucked, the new sensation sending shockwaves through her.
Conner didn't spend long there before moving back up her body and getting lost in her breasts again.
If she could have, she would have laughed at his fascination with them.
He brought his head over hers again, and kissed her ardently; his tongue doing magical things.
Shifting his weight, Conner lay on his side again, facing her, his hand flat on her belly.
Moving his hand lower, he delved beneath the lace, and caught her gasp with his lips at the first touch of his fingers to her already soaking folds.
He worked his magic there too, and before long, sent her over the edge in her first orgasm.
Her second followed soon after, when he inserted one long finger into her warm sheath.
She moaned long and loud, riding the waves of ecstasy.
His body, so tense, raised over her and she felt him shimmy as he kicked his trousers off. His boxers followed.
He scooped his hands down her sides, taking the scrap of lace with them. They, too, disappeared over the side of the bed.
Closing his mouth over her center again, he emptied her out.
As she writhed, Angel marveled. Never had she expected it to be like this.
The sensations of his tongue pressed to that most intimate part of her, the feel of his hair as it brushed the inside of her thighs, his warm hands underneath her, holding her to him.
It all added up to one explosive moment. His name burst from her lips as she convulsed.
Spent, she stretched, her heart filling with warmth.
He moved over her, fastening his mouth on hers again, as he wedged a knee between her legs. Easing his considerable weight onto her, she felt his erection between them.
Her breathing hitched slightly, she was suddenly afraid.
Conner reached between them, and touched his finger to the nub in her center.
Angel brought her knees up higher, her head thrown back into the pillows, forgetting her fear. She reached for release, and felt the precipice right before her.
She shot her eyes open, and saw the strained look on Conner's face.
"Now, Conner," she took hold of his face in her hands and closed her mouth over his, then said again against his lips. "Now!"
He flexed his hips and eased into her. She exploded around him, pulling him deeper.
He hit her barrier, and only paused briefly before surging through it.
Angel barely noticed.
Wrapping her legs around his hips, she rode wave after wave of trembling pleasure.
Burying his face in her neck, Conner shouted his own release, his hands holding her hips still as he drove forward at a maddening pace, taking her with him one more time.
It took a moment for everything to stop spinning, for them to come back down to earth.
His chest heaved against hers while his arms trembled at her sides as he held himself over her, trying not to crush her.
Angel wouldn't have cared if she suffocated underneath him right then. She was too content to care. Sated and completely, thoroughly, worn out, Angel let Conner pull her over onto him as he rolled.
Head on his chest, a leg hooked between his, an arm around her back, she fell into the dreamless sleep of the exhausted.