Angel (#4) | ✐

o3. Pretty Girl With The Pink Wig

               "ABSOLUTELY not." I shock myself with my words, knowing they're the complete opposite of what I actually had in mind. Part of me wants to backtrack, but the other part knows that I shouldn't.

He arches a brow and the smirk on his face makes me internally writhe to keep my head on straight. Of course he's the only man that cockiness looks good on.

"I'm not having sex with you." I put my foot down though I can feel it lifting a bit when he takes a seat, legs parting like he's making my own seat.

Angel tilts his head teasingly, "Who said anything about sex?" My breath hitches in my throat. This cannot be happening. "Come here." As much as I want to fight against it, my feet make their own decisions and do as he says. He takes my hand into his and guides me onto his lap. I have to keep my head as I feel his bulge between my legs. He continues, eyes not leaving mine, "I do a lot worse to people who've wronged me a lot less."

His fingers start at my ankles, trailing up the fishnets with finesse, approaching my calves then the backs of my knees. He keeps an appropriate distance from anything else, just circling my skin in such a manner that I have to tell myself to breathe and not fall into him.

I don't know if I should be nervous or horny or scared.

"Then what do you want?" I question.

A moment passes. His fingers begin their movements again. He passes over my ass before pressing his hands against my back. I lurch forward at the slight push and find myself just inches from his very inviting lips.

"To talk." His nose brushes against mine and a shudder runs down my back. "Can I talk to you, Talia?"

My brows furrow and I finally snap back into myself. I lean back and rest a hand on his jaw to keep his eyes on me, "Why?"

"There's so much I could've ask from you," His eyes flicker from mine to my lips and back again, "But I've decided to grant you grace. Even though I'm sure that's something you have too much of."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"You're not in the ground." That makes me shut up.

I've always known I've been toe-ing a fine line when it comes to who I rob but I believe I'm skilled enough to cover my tracks, except for the obvious slip ups. But, I doubt him finding me here is not much of a coincidence.

So I lean back completely, crossing my arms over my chest with furrowed brows.

"What do you want from me?" I ask plainly.

He rolls his eyes, "Are my words falling on deaf ears?"

That leads me to roll my eyes and immediately stare at him with a look of annoyance on my face, "They're falling on curious ones. What do you want from me, Angel? If not sex, then what?"

He arches a brow, "You're worth more than sex."

"Hmm," I hum in thought. I'm just going to ignore how that made me feel and keep a straight face. Obviously I know I'm worth more than sex but I want to know why he thinks so, "What makes you think that?"

"I'm not in the business of disrespecting women, tesoro. No woman is worth just sex." He says and I fight the urge to swoon. Okay, man who respects women — the bare fucking minimum. "You, especially."

"Let me guess, no woman has stolen from you and lived to see the next day."

He shrugs, "I just thought it was bold of you. You give me the best fuck of my life in my home then steal my wallet and leave. And you're my brother's fiancée's best friend—"

"I gave you the best fuck of your life?" I interrupt as I tilt my head in slight shock. Before I can say much else, he lifts a finger to my mouth and shushes me. I push his hand away, "No, I just think it's funny how —"

"How about you move on from that?"

"How can I?" I grin, "I gave you the best fuck of your life."

He sighs, "I regret telling you anything."

"Oh, don't be." I coo and lean into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, "That's cute that nobody's put it on you like that before."

He smirks and tugs me forward, "I'm sure there'll be another opportunity for you to 'put it on me' again, but to answer your question of what I want from you..." His pause makes me hum for him to continue. "Company."

My eye twitches. I know you're fucking lying.

"You're doing all this because you want . . . company?"

His beautiful hand runs through his scruff as he nods. "Is there anything so wrong with that?"

"No, no, of course not." I guess everyone needs company every now and then. But why me?

I don't even have a chance to ask before his phone rings and the door is suddenly being opened. I don't even have it in me to move from his lap so I just turn in his hold to look at who just entered, and lo and behold, it's a man I've never seen before.

"Hey, Angel," If I look close enough, I can see a similar appearance on this man's face that I can see on Angel's. "I am severely drunk and I can't tell if I'm walking with two feet or three."

I turn back to Angel, feeling as his hold tightens around me, "Guessing that's the newfound brother?"

The man behind me gasps in shock, "The pretty girl with the pink wig knows me. Wait —" He quickly straightens up but I can tell nothing has changed about his inebriation, "Were you guys having sex?"

I look down and release a sigh at the same time as Angel.

"No, Dean." He grumbles and I can't help but chuckle, "You know where the house is."

"No, I don't," He whines, "I was sleeping on the way there."

"Okay, sai cosa —" you know what. Angel, like a fucking muscle man, stands with me still wrapped around him and gently lowers me. It's when my feet touch the floor that he continues on a tangent filled with what I assume to be Italian curses. He cuts into them to press a very surprising kiss to my forehead before looking into my eyes for a mere second before he exits, holding on to his very drunk brother who stumbled as soon as he stopped leaning on the door jamb.

As he leaves, I finally catch my breath.

What the fuck just happened?

I dip my hand into my bra and pull out the wallet he left with me. The damn wallet.

companyyyyyy?????????? now what angel got up his sleeve??