Heaven's Embrace (Her Angels #1)
Erin Bedford & J.A. Cipriano
1
Heavenly Arms brought in the normal kind of crowd for a Thursday night, and I mean normal if you think drinking before five P.M. just so you could get a chance to find out if your boyfriend was cheating on you was normal. That was the kind of crowd that was always there for me.
I tried my best to focus on the blonde woman in front of me. Samantha something was three shots deep and bawling her eyes out about which guy she should choose, the rock star or the billionaire. Cue eye roll. I wanted to be sympathetic, I really did, but the tingling trailing up the back of my thighs in a teasing manner took all my give-a-fucks from my mind.
Shoving at the hand, I tried to play it off as scratching an itch, but that only earned me a dark chuckle in response. Of course, the woman in front of me had no idea what was going on. Samantha something couldn’t see the gorgeous hunk of a man currently playing bartender behind me. No one could. Besides, me that is.
How’d I get so lucky?
“Quit it,” I hissed under my breath, hoping not to attract attention to him. Not that anyone could see him, they would think I was just talking to myself. Again.
“Make me,” a husky voice laughed, the same warm tingling from before brushing the back of my neck and sending a shiver down my spine. Lucifer, fallen angel, and Devil extraordinaire loved to come to work with me, and sometimes, he meant that literally. Why he thought torturing me was more fun than the very deserving victims of the underworld, I’d never know. Not that I could complain because Lucifer was some serious man candy. Too bad he wasn’t corporeal enough to back up his deliciousness. Talk about clit tease.
“What was that?” Samantha something slurred, her brow creasing.
“Nothing,” I replied with a strained smile as I tightened the hair tie around my dark locks. I imagined it was Lucifer's cock and his eyes were begging me for mercy. The Devil at my beck and call was a pretty dream indeed. “You were saying something about your boyfriend?”
“Oh, yeah.” Samantha sniffed before breaking into a scowl. “So, the rock star, Damien, he’s got the whole bad boy thing going for him, but there are all the groupies to contend with. Who wants random women pawing at their man? Not me I tell you!” As she slammed her glass down on the counter, I winced.
Please, don’t break the glassware.
Samantha ignored my silent plea and continued on her tirade, “Then there’s the billionaire, Eric. He’s so hot you could crack an egg on him and watch it sizzle! But” - she pointed a finger at me with a pop of her lips - “he works all the time. Sure, that means more money, and that’s good and all, but I need attention! So, here I am pouring my heart out to a damn psychic bartender! No offense,” she added at the last second before drinking deeply from her glass, her manicured nails tapping an annoying beat on the bar top.
“None taken,” I said between clenched teeth. She wasn’t the first to use my services and then talk shit about them, and she wouldn’t be the last. Although, I wouldn’t have any extra services had it not been for the devil on my shoulder, so to speak.
I’d always been special … or cursed. Depends on how you look at it. It wasn’t like I saw random things that weren’t there. I see one specific kind of thing. Angels to be exact. I’ve tried to ignore them, but once they realize you can see them, they don’t give up.
Like Lucifer.
As if knowing I was thinking of him, the fingers on the back of my thighs dipped beneath my skirt and brushed the line of my soaked panties. It wasn’t much more than a sensation, a barest of caresses that never really gave more than a taste of what it could feel like to have Lucifer really touch me. I’d gone years with these angels following me around, teasing me with touches but never able to give me more. To say my body was a bit on overload would be an understatement.
As Lucifer’s fingers got awfully close to my center, I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes briefly. Don’t moan. Don’t moan.
“Are you okay?”
My eyes snapped open and landed on Samantha’s worried face. I could just imagine what I looked like, standing there behind the bar with a glass I’d washed about a dozen times in my hand with an expression of desperate ecstasy. It would make anyone think I was crazy … which they did, often.
“I’m great.” My voice went up an octave as Lucifer’s thick fingers brushed my bare, sensitive skin. Clamping my legs closed, I mustered up a grin. “Just need to use the little ladies’ room.”
“Oh, okay,” Samantha drew out as I ducked out from behind the bar, my three-inch heels clacking loudly on the wood floor. I shot a glare at the dark-haired devil following on my heels with smug satisfaction on his lips.
Did I mention that fallen angels count as angels to me? My powers didn’t discriminate or make much sense, for that matter. They really should have come with an owner’s manual, or at least a warning label.
Warning: Psychic powers will attract delicious angelic man meat with a horny meter of over nine thousand. Massive quantities of panties required!
Thursday nights were slower than most, but I still had to push my way through a crowd to get to the bathroom. I nodded toward Bret the door hop, a large fellow with a soft spot for musicals and appletinis. He was an odd fellow, but I could always count on him when some drunk idiot got out of hand. Too bad he couldn’t help me with my need for a little stroke and poke. Bret liked a big dick more than I did.
The bathroom door closed behind me, and I could finally get the smell of body odor and dried beer out of my nose. Honestly, the bathroom wasn’t much better. Really, Heavenly Arms was less of a hole in the wall and more crowded dive bar with an extra order of stink.
A woman was standing at the sink washing her hands as I barged in. I paused for a moment, surprised anyone else was in there. I shook it off, giving her an awkward little greeting before darting into the stall. The stall wasn’t big enough for one person, let alone me and the Devil, who thought he was so slick popping in there as I shut the door.
“Get out of here,” I hissed, pointing at the stall door. “I actually do have to pee, you know.” And maybe rub one out, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Well, then by all means.” Lucifer crossed his arms over his meticulous designer suit and leaned back against the door. Where the Devil found clothing like that was a mystery. Maybe Devils Do Prada?
Wherever those clothes came from, they knew exactly how to wrap his tall frame and broad shoulders into a nice package. Not that he didn’t already have a nice package. He had been pretty prompt at informing me of that fact when I’d dared to insult his size.
My traitorous mind flashed a reminder of what exactly lay beneath those pants and my face heated. Lucifer’s smile grew, and I held a hand up so he couldn’t come closer.
“I’m not going to go pee in front of you.” This time I said it a bit louder than I meant to. Outside the stall, a loud scoff sounded, followed by the banging of the bathroom door.
“I don’t think you really need to go,” Lucifer taunted.
We stared at each other for a moment, each one of us trying to make the other yield. After a few seconds, my eye started to twitch. Damn Devil and his overpowering stare.
“Fine, you win.”
“I always do.” Lucifer smirked.
With a frustrated sigh, I pushed through Lucifer, causing a full body tingle as we merged for a moment, and then made my way out of the stall.