Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) by Tricia Skinner

Author:Tricia Skinner [Skinner, Tricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-02-18T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jarrid placed Ionie on the edge of the marble vanity, even as she worked to control her breathing. After her bone-melting orgasm, the cold surface sent chills down her legs and up her spine. She peeked through her lashes expecting to bask in the warmth of her handsome partner. What she saw doused what remained of her arousal.

Jarrid had closed his beautiful eyes and his body was rigid. The fascination she’d seen earlier vanished. Now, he appeared resigned.

“You should shower,” he said, opening his eyes.

She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat.

What went wrong? She glanced down. The front of his jeans showed evidence of his release. No performance problems there.

“Talk to me.” God, she didn’t know what to do. She raised her hand to touch his arm, but he stepped out of reach.

“I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

Dread descended. Was she getting the brush off from a virgin half-angel?

“If what we did upset you, let’s discuss it now.” Ionie raised her chin, summoning her fractured pride. She would not shed a tear in front of her would-be lover. “I’m not ashamed of what happened. It was beautiful and I’m glad I could experience it with you.”

A stoic mask slid over Jarrid’s face.

Don’t you dare lock me out. She tried to sift through her reeling mind. Virgin. Okay, he’s embarrassed. Angel. Did he break a vow of celibacy? We had our clothes on!

“You think too much,” he said.

She wanted to punch him. Of course she was thinking too much. He wouldn’t tell her why he was now Mr. Freeze.

Jarrid reached into a cabinet and withdrew a single towel. He tossed it on the counter.

“Shower. I’ll return when you’re finished.” With that, he retreated from the bathroom like a man eager to avoid a brawl. Ionie stared at the closed door, dumbfounded by what she’d witnessed. She sat on the counter for a few minutes, half expecting him to open the door and yell, “Gotcha!”

He didn’t.

• • •

Jarrid tore down the hallway leading away from his bedroom. He was determined to put some space between him and Ionie before he did something he’d regret. Too late. He had crossed a big damn line. Where was his legendary code against mixing with humans?

Sticking to the inside of your jeans, dumbass. The cooling wetness reminded him he needed to clean up.

He cocked his head outside of Cain’s bedroom door, listening to the raucous noise drifting from the entertainment room downstairs. The rest of the team was watching a movie. Relieved his brothers were occupied, he opened the door and slipped inside.

He showered fast, scrubbing away the scent of Ionie’s arousal. Afterward, he bundled his soiled clothes into a tight ball. He eyeballed his friend’s closet. Cain’s wardrobe outside of “work” tipped to humorous slogans on cotton T-shirts and sweatpants. He rolled his eyes, then considered his discarded clothes. Those were a problem. He couldn’t leave them for his brother to find, and he didn’t have time to put on laundry.

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