Vicious Angel (Criminal Sins 2)

This kiss isn’t as quick as the first one. The passion that Angel delivers through his mouth pushes me back against the truck door and steals away all of my pain.

I raise my hand to his chest, unsure if I should push him away or draw him in even closer. My mind is scrambled with a million different thoughts, but they all give way under the hardness of Angel’s growing desire.

God, I missed him.

“You look better than ever,” he says in a low voice when he finally pulls away from my lips.

I cough out a muffled chuckle as he moves his tongue down to my neck—a tiny whimper of pleasure follows close behind. “Are we safe?” I manage to eke out through the veil of pleasure that descends down upon me along with Angel’s kisses.

“Not yet,” he replies through heavy breaths. His lips are on my clavicle now, his hand wrapped around my upper thigh. I sigh and run my hand through the back of his hair.

“We need to get out of here,” I breathe.

“There’s nothing we can do right now but wait... and catch up.”

I know what kind of catching up he means. Angel doesn’t want to talk. His hands slide under my sundress and his fingers slip around my panties. He pulls them down around my ankles and I don’t stop him.

Empty bliss straddles my stressed mind like a cowboy trying to tame a wild steed, but my responsibilities won’t let me give in completely, not yet. I tighten my grip around Angel’s black hair and pull him backwards just as he slides a finger between my soaking petals.

“Not now,” I whisper, with hardly any conviction in my voice. His touch feels so good, his penetration feels so right... but something is wrong. He doesn’t know about what our passion has already created...

Angel’s teeth graze the tender skin of my throat just as a thunderous roar graces my ears. I turn my gaze out of the tinted truck window and see a motorbike appears out from behind a row of sheet covered clotheslines. It rumbles to a stop just outside of our truck.

Angel gives my neck one last k

iss before unsheathing his finger from my privates. My entire body slouches in response to his sudden absence. Somehow, I’m both disappointed and entirely relieved.

Angel and I need to talk before we can fuck. He needs to know that things have changed; he needs to know that I’m not just going to welcome him back into my life so easily. It took me one night to break into my prison, why did it take him two years?

8

Angel

I’m still hard when I lift Catalina onto the seat of the motorbike. My arousal hardly falters as I jump on behind her and wrap my arms across her smooth skin to get to the handles.

The little jungle bird’s warm body trembles along with the engine as I rev the ignition. I wasn’t lying when I said she looked as good as ever; I also think I made it clear that she felt as good as ever, too. But that more sensual reunion will have to wait until we’re truly safe. I probably shouldn’t have pounced on her so quickly, but I couldn’t help myself, she just makes me so fucking wild.

“Ready?” I whisper into her ear.

She nods and I immediately kick down. The engine roars and we speed forward through the clotheslines ahead and into a tight alley that no car could ever fit through.

Residential windows blur by as we race for freedom. In the distance, I can hear police sirens; they’re just as dangerous as any of Dante’s foot soldiers. Juan’s made it clear that nearly everyone in this crumbling city is under Dante’s thumb in one way or another, and law enforcement is no exception.

Cat shakes beneath me as we break through the thick humid air of the alleyway. It seems to stretch on forever, but, finally, we explode into an opening and I make a hard right turn, up a hill that leads to the center of these slums.

That’s where we’re going to meet Juan. He’s going to be our personal escort down a series of interconnected underground tunnels that even I didn’t know existed. Apparently, the closest checkpoint is up ahead. I just have to get us there before anyone else can get to us.

Luckily, the sun is going down, and that means the local residents are already rushing inside to avoid breaking curfew. They clear the streets and make for easy driving. I keep my foot to the pedal and we roar through the shanty buildings like a bullet through hell.

Cat holds onto my arms with an impressive stoicism and a wave of pride and relief washes through my chest. She’s still as strong as ever, Dante didn’t break her spirit.

Up ahead, I spot our final destination.

The little grove covered parking lot is nearly empty, except for a man bent over a manhole cover near the center. He looks up when he hears us approaching.

It’s Juan.

We don’t exchange pleasantries when I skid to a stop in front of him. The panicked look on his face sends a shot of dread through my racing heart.