Page 20 of Angel

He didn’t look happy about it but didn’t argue.

Bree reluctantly allowed Cage to push her up the ramp to their house. She didn’t seem to want to detangle her arms from her blankets.

Angel followed behind more slowly. She amended her statement of needing a shower to needing a bath. She wasn’t sure how much longer her legs were going to support her. Her left shoulder was screaming as she used that arm to close the cage’s door. Her lower back and wrists were throbbing. Bree wasn’t the only one suffering from an adrenaline crash.

Angel’s house was smaller than the ones Lucky, Bear, and Bulldog had built. The biggest difference was that hers was only a single story, whereas all three of theirs were two story. Additionally, all of theirs had at least four bedrooms where hers only had three. Angel’s bedroom was the master and had a standard bathroom with a tub, shower, and his-and-her sinks. Bree’s bedroom did not have its own bathroom. The second bathroom was a modified bathroom that had a zero-point entry shower with a seat for her to transfer herself onto and a moveable shower head. Her bathroom had a lot of counter space with no under the counter cabinets. Her toilet also had a special padded seat and rails. Bree’s bedroom, bathroom, and the kitchen were where the most modifications were noticeable.

Angel was halfway up the ramp when Cage came back outside to help her. She grumbled and protested as he picked her up bridal style.

“Quit your bitching. Snails were passing you on the sidewalk.”

Angel leaned her head against his shoulder. “Asshole.”

She loved feeling his chest rumble as he laughed. There was a lot that they still needed to talk about, but Angel was at least open and willing to have that talk now.

Bree was in the living room. Cage must have pushed her inside and gone immediately back outside for Angel. Still holding Angel, Cage said to both of them, “Tell me what the two of you need. Food, rest…?”

“Shower,” they both said together.

Cage glanced between the two of them. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure either of you have that energy right now.”

Angel scowled at him, but grudgingly admitted that he had a point. Furthermore, he could not help Bree shower. Neither Bree nor Cage would be comfortable with that. “Can you call Tessa or Jenna please? See if one of them can come over to help Bree.”

Bree shook her head. “I can do it.”

“Please,” Angel insisted. “Both of us are worn out and, as much as I wish I could help you, I’m not even sure I can help myself right now. I don’t want to risk you falling.”

Cage started towards Angel’s bedroom. “Let me put you down and then I’ll get Bree situated until one of the ol’ ladies gets here.”

The gratitude Angel felt in that moment was immeasurable. He set her gently on the edge of her bed. When he went to walk away, Angel grabbed his arm and pulled him back down towards her. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Never have to thank me for taking care of you.”

After he left, Angel forced herself to her feet. She was tired and sore, but not an invalid. She stumbled her way into her bathroom to start the bath water. While she knew Epsom salt would help her sore muscles, she also knew better than to put salt into the water when she had open wounds.

Angel was getting herself undressed when she heard the front door open and close. It was a relief to know Cage was there, that she didn’t need to immediately go and make sure that the person entering her house was welcome. Shame washed over her again at the cruel words she’d thrown at him only days before.

She used the toilet before getting into the tub. Angel laid back with an audible sigh. The burn wounds from the Taser protested at being submerged in the hot water, but Angel ignored it. The rest of her body was thrilled by the heat. She dipped a washcloth into the water to start cleaning herself.

Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking and the washcloth kept slipping from between her fingers.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that.”

She looked up to see Cage standing in the bathroom doorway, watching her. He was leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his muscled chest.

“Pot, meet kettle,” she countered.

He gave her a soft smile. Then he stood up off of the doorframe and walked into the bathroom. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled his shirt off in one easy move. Her eyes landed appreciatively on his toned abs and tattoos—many of which she’d been the one to etch into his skin. That shouldn’t have turned her on as much as it did.

She watched in silence as Cage unbuckled and unzipped his pants, letting them and his boxers fall to the floor. She didn’t know when he’d taken his boots and socks off, but he was no longer wearing them now. Her eyes landed on his flaccid dick between his thick thighs.

As if her body had a mind of its own, Angel found herself moving forward as he approached the tub. He carefully maneuvered himself into the water and sat down behind her. He situated her between his legs but left space between her back and his chest. Taking the washcloth from between her hands, Cage started to scrub her back.

Angel swallowed nervously. She’d had sex plenty of times in her life. She liked sex and was not ashamed of that fact. However, bathing with a man was a whole new level of intimacy that she’d never experienced before. A shiver ran through her at his light touch.

“Cold?” His voice seemed deeper than normal.

Angel shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder at him and then blurted out, “You’re not hard.”

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