Chapter 69
The day passes quickly. Before the sun goes down, we dress for dinner with Damian and Lydia. I put on jeans and a black button-down shirt, which I leave hanging loose. Angel looks unsure when she walks into my room wearing another set of flowing pants and top. Her head and hair are covered.
"You look beautiful," I tell her because it's true. There's something to be said for keeping Angel's curves to myself. Her relieved smile makes my cock stiffen and my jeans uncomfortable. "Once we're inside Damian's apartment, would you be willing to uncover your hair?"
Her eyes shine into mine. "If that is your wish."
"Will it keep you from enjoying yourself?"
She shakes her head. "No, I do not think so."
"Then that, my beautiful damsel," I place a soft kiss on her cheek, "is what I wish."
***
I resist the temptation to hold her hand during the drive, but only because I need to shift gears in the Mustang. My craving for touch hasn't diminished, and I only make it halfway to our destination before grabbing her hand and placing it on my leg.
"Leave it there," I command when she starts to pull away. Thank God I have loose cotton pants in my club bag. If we play, I'll change first or risk strangling my cock.
After we arrive at the El Diablo Hotel, I drop our bags in Monroe's suite and then turn to Angel and remove the long scarf from her face and neck. Placing a gentle kiss on her nose, I straighten her hair before we leave.
Spending time with Monroe has made the world of the rich and famous less intimidating for me. Over the years, my friendship with Damian has grown, but I barely know his wife, Lydia. The active community grapevine rumors she wields a mean whip. Her dominant behavior might be fine for Damian, but I prefer a gentle, less bossy sub. I smile to myself. It hasn't taken long for Angel to feel comfortable enough to test her brat limits.
I won't lie-I love every minute. One of the reasons I never considered a 24/7 slave is because I want a woman to submit. but I also want her to stand up to me on occasion. Angel is the first woman I've found who one hundred percent fits the bill.
My thoughts make me stop walking. Grabbing the hair I just groomed, I jerk Angel close and thoroughly kiss her hungry mouth. I sink into her taste and the luscious softness of her unbelievable lips. That tiny tongue of hers whispers against mine and I groan into her mouth. Moving away-only because I need to take a breath-I glance with satisfaction at her swollen, just-kissed appearance. Her large blue eyes soften when she timidly glances up at me. She's mine, and now everyone will know it.
* * *
Dinner is wonderful and seeing Angel holding little Abigail tightens the muscles in my chest. Angel holds the tiny bundle and smiles down at the baby, who stares back with inch-long curly red hair and wide blue eyes.
"She's beautiful," Angel whispers while making faces at the baby.
"She's finally at the stage where she recognizes us," Lydia says as she laughs. She moves in closer and tickles the baby's chin. Her reward is a big toothless smile. "She's acting fine with you, but she tends to cry if someone holds her besides me or Damian. Raul doesn't count because we know he's her favorite." Lydia laughs again, letting us know she doesn't mind that her child adores Raul, Lydia's submissive-turned-nanny.
Damian breaks in and says, "Raul's been a lifesaver."
"Will Raul be at the club this evening?" I do my best to keep my voice neutral.
"No, Raul is having man trouble," Lydia replies in much too-cutesy baby talk, "and he's actually out on a date. He'll be sorry he missed you."
"Too bad I'm taken," I tease as relief rolls through me. "Raul needs to look elsewhere if his new boyfriend doesn't work out."
"He told me long ago that you were unavailable," Lydia pauses and gives a sly smile, "as his Dom" Lydia's voice lilted suggestively over the word "Dom."
"I have no problem taking a flogger to his ass," I say with a chuckle, "but the redness left behind on male skin just doesn't do it for me."
I turn and meet Angel's gaze. She's blushing, which causes Damian and Lydia to laugh.
"Are you playing in the club tonight?" Damian asks.
I watch panic seep into Angel's expression and I let her off the hook. "No," I say to Damian. "We're returning to Monroe's house, but another time soon, I promise."
Damian's gaze drills into mine. "Have you heard from him?"
I shake my head and I know this is not a conversation I want to have in front of Angel because I don't want her worrying. "No, but he should be back in a week or two," I answer and hope it's the end of this line of questions.
Lydia saves me. "It's time for Abigail to go down for the night," she announces. "She'll be a bear tomorrow if she doesn't get her beauty sleep."
Angel places a gentle kiss on Abigail's forehead and passes her back to her mother with a look of longing that's impossible to miss. She confounds me. Is she actually a submissive or did Monroe work his magic that he did with me? I doubt I would have discovered this lifestyle without Monroe's intervention. And not that I mind. The situation with Angel is different, though. Is Angel's submission part of her cultural background or Monroe's not so subtle coaxing? I might never know.
We say our goodbyes and leave a short time later. Leaving without playing leaves my dick throbbing. We're within easy reach of Club El Diablo if Angel is ever willing. Unlike Monroe, I will never force Angel to play publicly if it's not her decision.
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