Angel's Shield Read Online Free PDF Page B

Jeremiel’s
ass and arched his back as his climax took over, too. Jeremiel felt the heat of
it on his skin, against his hip and thighs. So hot, he thought, his dick
jerking painfully as his body tried to shove more pleasure through him. “Jesus,”
he muttered, going limp.
    “Not Jesus,” Haniel said, breathless.
    Jeremiel started laughing, head in Haniel’s neck. After a moment,
Haniel joined him.
    “What just happened?” Jeremiel asked, once he’d managed to calm
down. The mess in his boxers had started to congeal. Ugh. He rolled off his
friend.
    “Damned if I know,” Haniel said, plucking at his shorts.
    “Yeah, well, now I need a shower.”
    “I think it’s going to take more than a shower to wash this mess
away,” Haniel said quietly.
    Jeremiel shifted over and slid his arm around his best friend. “You’re
not a mess, Haniel. Never.” He sighed. “Let’s just see what happens. Isn’t that
what you’re always saying? Don’t do anything drastic.”
    “What? Like have sex with my best friend?” Haniel scoffed. “Been
there, done that.”
    “Got the t-shirt,” Jeremiel said automatically.
    “What would the others think?” Haniel asked.
    Jeremiel frowned. “I don’t feel like we did anything wrong.”
    Haniel was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his words
sent a shiver through Jeremiel. “I’m more worried about something happening to
you. We live a dangerous life, my friend. And now I have something to lose
again.”

 
    Chapter Four
     
    Charmiene downed the last of her coffee, trying not to think about
what the two men had looked like in bed together. Haniel’s blonde hair had been
mussed just enough to make her want to run her hands through it. Jeremiel’s
morning stubble had her itching to glide her fingers over his jaw.
    God, I’ve got it bad, she thought, putting the cup in the sink. She ran water in it,
then turned off the faucet and leaned against the counter, staring out the
window. Morning sunlight slanted across the backyard, highlighting the soft,
white dandelion globes decorating her lawn. A sudden gust of wind sent the
seeds into the air. She wondered what it felt like to skim the breeze like that.
For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to fly.
    She glanced at the picture of her parents she’d taped to the
refrigerator door. Her mother barely came up to her father’s shoulders, but
they were so much in love it never seemed to matter. She remembered her dad’s
laugh and her mother singing to her in Korean, but they’d died when she was
eight. Was the longing she felt for the skies just her psyche’s way of trying
to heal the damage of her loss? She shook her head and looked outside again.
    “I’m certainly no angel,” she murmured, sighing. She gathered her
purse. Jeremiel is an angel, though, no matter how much he denies it. She’d seen his legacy marks twist from his forearms up over his shoulders when
he’d been in the bed. The cut on his skin had scabbed over last night. This
morning it looked even better. She frowned. He certainly heals fast, she
mused.
    “Charmeine?”
    She spun around. Jeremiel stood in the doorway, thankfully
dressed. Her composure couldn’t handle any more half-naked angels right now.
    “Oh, Jeremiel. Good morning,” she stuttered, imagining him without
his shirt. He’d washed up and his dark hair was wet. “I was just leaving.”
    He smiled, slow and devastating. “No need to hurry off on my
account.”
    She blushed. “I have to get to work.”
    “Did she leave?” Haniel asked, coming up behind Jeremiel. His eyes
landed on hers. “Oh, good. You’re still here,” he said softly, not smiling, but
not frowning either.
    She glanced away, not understanding the expression on his face,
and gestured to the coffee pot. “I made extra today, in case you wanted some.”
    Jeremiel stepped into the kitchen. “Thanks.” He poured himself a
cup and sipped at it carefully.
    Haniel followed him in, looking around as