The One (Untouchables Mafia Series Book 3)
The One: Chapter 6

I scream and bolt up. The second I do, I already know I’m coming out of a nightmare.

“Angel.” Hands cup my cheeks. I suck in a breath, having forgotten where I was. How is his touch so gentle? His hands are rough, but I kind of like that. My eyes lock with Abel’s. They aren’t the same, though. They seem darker.

“I’m okay,” I reassure him. For some reason, I wonder if I should be asking him the same question. But I don’t. Shamelessly, I wonder if he might kiss me again. That would be the third time. He doesn’t, though. His hands fall away, and he steps back.

“I told you to sleep in the bed.”

“I must have fallen asleep watching TV.”

“I’m going to shower.” With that, he turns, heading toward the bathroom. I have to fight the urge to not pepper him with a million questions. I recall that my father’s second wife would do that, and he would lose it on her.

How long was he gone? I don’t have a way to check the time. It doesn’t feel like morning. I’m still sleepy, but now my mind is starting to race. Abel went out, and the first thing he’s going to do is shower. I’m pretty sure I know what that means. I recall a few times my stepmother having yelled at my father about showering when he got home. She would go on a tirade about how he was with other women and needed to get their scent off of him.

Is it weird that I feel a strange sense of jealousy? What the heck? I mean he kissed me, so it’s not so out of the ballpark. And it was my first kiss. I tuck my legs under myself, wondering if that’s where he has been. Heck, for all I know, Abel has a whole other life. I don’t really know anything about him. He could have a wife with a couple kids for all I know.

My stomach turns at the thought of him belonging to someone else. I jump up, checking on the kitten, who is still snoozing. I grab a throw blanket from the end of the bed, pulling it back toward the couch to lie down.

Two kisses! Two kisses, and I know nothing about him. I roll, putting my back to the room, and try to replace sleep.

“Ahh!” I squeal when I’m lifted off the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I told you about the bed.” He sets me down on it. I stare up at his bare chest. One with more than a few scars on it. My fingers itch to touch him.

“Well, you’re not the boss of me.” There. I told him. I start to stand, but he puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Stay.” There is a cold finality to his tone that makes me freeze in place. I suppose that was the whole point. This is the first time I think I feel a real spark of unease. I stare up into Abel’s dark eyes, knowing the man is probably capable of things my mind could never handle.

I scoot back until I’m on the other side of the bed. Once again, I lie down, but I put my back to him. It takes everything in me not to peek over my shoulder to see what he’s doing. I hadn’t heard him come out of the bathroom, so there is no telling if he’s still standing on the other side of the bed.

I close my eyes tight, trying to get myself under control. If I go to sleep now, I know I’ll have a nightmare. They don’t bother me so much anymore. You get used to them, but I don’t want to wake up screaming once more.

When the bed dips on the other side, my breath hitches. I flinch when the room plunges into darkness. I hate the dark. Part of why nightmares are easier to take is because I know if the lights are on when I open my eyes, it was only a dream. When it’s dark, that isn’t so easy to decipher.

“Angel,” Abel whispers my name. It is a small comfort that he is here. I think monsters that go bump in the night would fear Abel. “Angel,” he repeats, but I don’t respond. A second later, an arm wraps around me. Abel’s chest presses into my back. “Did I scare you?” I’m not sure how to answer that question. “I know you’re awake.” Abel’s warm breath tickles the skin on my neck, causing goosebumps to erupt. He’s so freaking close. “Breathe.” His big hand presses into my stomach. I let out a breath. “Good girl.”

“Don’t say that to me,” I snap at him. I relished it hours ago, but right now it only upsets me.

“Because I’m not the boss of you?”

“You’re not,” I clarify.

“There you go.” For some reason, those three words make me relax into him.

“I don’t like the dark, and I didn’t care for how you spoke to me,” I admit. It is easier to say things in the darkness. I don’t feel so shy. “When you told me to stay.”

“The order?” I shake my head no.

“You were so cold,” I whisper. He grows quiet for a long moment, and I begin to wonder if he’s going to respond.

“I’m not cold with you.” His nose runs along the column of my neck. “I just wanted you in my bed.”

The vulnerability in his words is turning me into mush. I have to remind myself that this isn’t some romance novel. But there have been more things. That first kiss got me to stop screaming, but the second hadn’t been that. Even now, he’s holding me snuggly to him. I wouldn’t have guessed that he was a cuddler.

“You kissed me,” I say while shrouded in darkness.

“I did.”

“It was my first kiss.” Abel’s hold on me tightens a fraction. “That means something to me. So you know.”

“It means something to me, too.” That makes me smile. “You want me to turn the lights on for you?”

“No.” I lick my lips. “Tonight, you didn’t go—” I feel Abel’s tension. His whole body goes solid behind me. “Oh my God!” I hiss. I try to wiggle away from him, but I don’t get anywhere.

“Don’t fight me, Angel.” His tone is gruff. Almost a growl. I keep wiggling to break free. It’s stupid. The man could toss me easily across the room. I’m not fighting for him. “Angel!” Abel pulls me. The next thing I know, I’m under him, my hands pinned above my head, and my thighs spread wide to make room for his broad frame. “Don’t fight me,” he repeats. “I’m on edge already.”

I stop moving at that. It only takes me a half second to recognize his hard cock pressing against my sex. My hands are still pinned above my head. Fear should be coursing through my body. Heck, I’d rather it be fear than the pure, lusty need that runs through me instead. He could be married!

“Abel?” His name comes out breathy. I think I might sound sexy. Maybe.

“Fuck me,” he growls before his mouth comes down on mine. I gasp in surprise, making my lips part. Abel slides his tongue right into my mouth. It’s not slow and sweet. No, Abel devours me. His tongue swirls, trying to taste all of me. I can’t help but start to kiss him back.

When my tongue strokes against Abel’s, an almost guttural, deep rumble comes from him. I feel it through my own body.

“Angel.” He jerks his mouth away from mine.

“What?” I whimper.

“It’s too much. You’re grinding on my cock, and I’m about to rip those sexy shorts from your body and bury my tongue in your cunt to see if you taste as sweet there as your lips.” His words ramp up the ache that has formed between my thighs.

I stop rocking. I had been grinding on him. “I didn’t know I was…” I trail off. Even in the dark, I can’t say ‘cock.’ It’s silly, but I can’t get it past my lips.

Abel shifts down a few inches, so now the bottom of his stomach presses against my sex rather than his cock. I can’t see him, but the action doesn’t make him release his hold on my hands. I bet the man is perched over me like an animal with prey.

‘I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want, and I kind of…’

“Toss me around like your own little doll.”

“Jesus, Angel,” Abel grits out. It takes me a second to put together how dirty that sounds. I fight not to rub against him. That growing throb, unlike any I’ve ever felt before, continues between my thighs. It’s almost painful.

Would it really be so bad if he did bury his face between my thighs? Was that an offer? I can still feel his mouth on mine. What would it be like to feel it down there, too? Then we could—No! I cut my own thoughts off.

“Wait.” I wiggle.

“Don’t fight me.”

‘Why, what are you going to do?” I don’t think Abel would hurt me. Not physically, at least.

“I honestly don’t fucking know.” I believe him. However, I don’t believe that any form of pain would be involved. I also don’t think he’s trying to scare me. He’s being honest with me. I hope he is.

“Tell me there isn’t anyone else.”

“What?” He sounds surprised by my question.

“You left, came back, and showered. I don’t know,” I ramble, not sure how to say this. It makes me feel needy and desperate. I never want to feel like that. I watched many women act that way with my father. “Are you married or something? Did you go see someone?” I rush the last of it out. I can’t keep kissing him if there is someone else. I wouldn’t want to kiss him.

“There is no one but you, Angel. I give you my vow in that.”

“Your vow.” I smile. “I kinda like the sound of that.”

“I didn’t mean to be cold.” He releases his hold on me, shifting to his side. Abel takes me with him, pulling me halfway on top of him before grabbing a blanket to cover us. “I had work to do and wanted to shower before I touched you. Then you screamed.” Now he sounds like the haunted one.

“Sorry about that.”

“I don’t like when you scream.” Abel pulls me more on top of him. I run my hand up his chest, feeling the thin layer of hair and a few puckered scars. “Sleep, Angel.” I suddenly feel exhausted. “I’ll keep the monsters away.” I think he said. Or had it been… I’ll keep the other monsters away.

It doesn’t matter. In his arms, I feel safer already, knowing no nightmares will come. Not when he’s holding me this close.

They wouldn’t dare.