Page 8 of His Relentless Angel

I clean myself up, almost regretfully, then return to his side. “Isaiah,” I whisper and stroke his shoulder blade. “Please, will you come to bed? I want to sleep next to you.” Ice shoots down my spine when he lazily swats my hand away. I step back. “Isaiah?”

He makes a huffing noise and rolls over onto his belly. I nearly trip over my feet, rushing to return to his bedroom alone. Nothing about this night has turned out as I expected, least of all him continuing to push me away, not wanting to sleep together in the same bed after what we just did.

Grabbing his towel I had left on the bed, I enclose myself in the inky darkness of the bathroom and curl up in a ball on the gray tiled shower floor.

None of this was part of my dream.

Chapter 4

Isaiah

The first thing I do when I wake up is text Sherman.

Me: Hey, man. Just wanted to let you know Bailey showed up at my place last night. It was storming too hard to send her home, so I let her sleep in my room while I was on the couch and will send her home as soon as she wakes up.

Sherman: I should’ve guessed that’s where she’d gone. I’m sorry she showed up like that. I’ll make sure it never happens again.

Sherman: Thanks for keeping her safe.

Most dads would probably think the worst and want to kick my ass for spending the night with their eighteen-year-old daughter, but not Sherman. Everyone knows how uneasy Bailey’s obsession makes me. Her crush started off funny enough when she was younger but quickly became unsettling. We’d all expected her to grow out of it and develop crushes on boys her own age at some point in high school.

The boys certainly developed crushes on her, and she rejected an endless amount of advances, so I’m told. She’s so beautiful with her long, shiny hair and unreal silvery irises. You can’t help but look at her and recognize what an angel she is, just like her older sister, but with more curve to her hips as she grew older. Even I could admit that.

We’d thought she might even have been embarrassed about her obsession and apologize for all the schemes she came up with to try to garner my attention and affection—something that left me deeply disturbed, considering her age. We thought she might even start avoiding me after that Christmas fiasco when she was sixteen so Sherman could once again host game nights at his house.

But she never stopped. In fact, it only got worse with time when we started running into each other after she got her driver’s license. At one point, I was scared she was going so far as to stalk me. Out of kindness for Sherman, I never once told her how I really felt—that her attention unnerved the hell out of me, and what I wanted most in the world was for her to leave me the fuck alone so I could go on with my life without looking over my shoulder.

So I don’t know what the hell came over me last night. I was shocked when she untied the bows on her shoulders and pulled the fabric down, baring the most perfect breasts I’d ever seen. Slightly smaller than Shayla’s, who is constantly whipping them out to breastfeed before people can look away. I could appreciate how beautiful Shayla was when we met after she had already turned eighteen and was already a mother. She was in a different stage of her life—an adult as much as the rest of us. I could understand why James was so enamored and in love with her despite the age difference.

But when Bailey pulled her dress lower, I was hit with the vision of her trim waistline growing round with the baby she wanted me to envision in the hospital after Shayla gave birth to Gentry. The vision was staggering in its intensity. I had to leave the bedroom before she pulled her dress any lower, sick to my stomach for my vile thoughts.

And then, she stepped out of my bedroom in just my T-shirt, her beautiful thighs gleaming each time the lightning struck and lit up the dark living room. I had the impulse to slip my hands behind her thighs and pull her closer. It was fucking nauseating, so I needed to put an end to it for both our sakes.

I told her point blank that I didn’t want her and broke her heart just as I had intended…and it sent her reeling as much as it did me when she fled my condo in the middle of the night, out into the dangerous storm that I knew would terrify her to drive in. I’d have been terrified thinking of her on the road, crying uncontrollably, unable to see through the sheets of rain, and possibly driving off into a ditch.

Something happened between her trying to hold back a sob and her flying down the slippery stairs. There was no thinking it through. I was simply on my feet, chasing after her, and I touched her. Grabbed her around the waist, her ass brushing against my dick that had disgustingly started to harden the moment she bared herself to me.

Then, we were alone in my condo, both of us soaking wet, my T-shirt nearly see-through and molded to her breasts. I had the impulse to drop to my knees and suck her nipple into my mouth through the material. I think I was seconds away from doing just that—corrupting her and sending me straight to the fiery pits of hell—when she rocked her pelvis against my dick.

I pulled away, and thank god that I did. The hope that briefly flashed in her eyes when I led her into my bedroom is one that I’ll never forget. It’s the same one she gave me in my dream last night. Except in my dream, I had pulled her closer and on top of my lap. She had ridden me into an orgasm, moaning my name. Vile. I hated myself as soon as I woke up, having actually cum in my pants in my wet dream.

* * *

Bailey steps out of my bedroom with her hair a tangled mess in her seductive, body-hugging white dress. My dick twitches in my dirty sweatpants, and I want to gouge my eyes out. I think she knows it, too, because her eyes widen slightly, and heat pinkens her cheeks. She’s so goddamn beautiful that I have to look away, hating myself all the more.

I intentionally chose not to make coffee or breakfast so she wouldn’t have an excuse to stay longer, and I step toward the front door. “I texted your father to let him know where you are. I expect him to have some choice words with you when you get home.”

She drops her gaze to her sandals and mutters, “Shit.”

I hold the door open, silently motioning for her to leave. Humidity from last night’s storm rolls into the condo like an ocean wave, but it’s bright and sunny, so I’m not worried about her getting home safely.

Just before she crosses the threshold with her keys in hand, she leans into me. I should have expected it and stepped away, but now she has me trapped against the wall. And fuck if I don’t want to pull her closer and slam the front door closed again. She sighs breathily when I slide my arms around her back after she lifts hers over my shoulders, and that little sound travels straight to my dick.

“Isaiah?”

“Hmm?” I hum the question against her slender neck.

“Can I have another kiss?” She tips her head to the side, exposing the sliver of her jaw I kissed last night, hoping I’ll do it again.

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