Angel Falling (Falling #1)(20)
“That’s just sick. Now get out and tell Gustav that I’d like a cappuccino to go for me and one for Hank. I’d also like half a bagel with cream cheese, please. Oh, and make sure he feeds Butch.”
“Yes, Princess. Your wish is my command.” He headed toward the door as I stepped into the shower.
“No, my wish is your job. One you get paid damn well for!” I yelled over the water cascading down my back. “And take the dog with you!” The hot water soothed my aching muscles. I heard Oliver fighting with Butch just outside the room. He didn’t care for Oliver. Though he seemed to be fine with me as long as I gave him a good petting before bed and again when I got home. I’d actually started to take a liking to the mangy animal. He was sweet in a slobbery and hairy way.
I finished my shower and threw on the matching black lace bra, underwear and stockings Oliver had left on the bed. Glancing in the freestanding mirror I inspected my form. I worked hard to stay in shape. My legs, arms and abs were all toned, belly flat. I was proud of the defined indent in my biceps. Nothing too bulky, but strong and feminine at the same time. My breasts were large but perky for their size.
I turned around to view my backside relishing in the fact that my bum was tight and firm. It was my sexiest feature and the panties with the scalloped trimmed edge were doing wonders for my confidence. If Hank did end up seeing me in this, I think he’d be pleased.
I slipped on a royal blue dress that hugged every curve. It was plain in the front with a scoop neck and fitted bodice. The back had an exposed zipper encased in leather running down the entire seam. Oliver called it the “business in the front, party in the back” dress.
As I put my makeup on, Oliver came in and gestured for me to sit in the vanity chair. He twisted my hair into a complex system of knots and swirls, every so often adding a bobby pin to hold a piece in place. The man was a sheer genius at styling me. He knew exactly what looked good, knew my sizes to perfection, and was able to create an updo masterpiece.
He put one last bobby pin in place and handed me a mirror. “There, perfect.”
“Looks great, as usual. You constantly amaze me.”
His return smile was huge spreading across crisp flawless skin. Oliver was good-looking in a pretty boy way. “Thank you. Now what are we going to do about the cowboy? I’ve fixed up the spare room, put away all of his clothes, and set up his toiletries in the bathroom. For a man planning on staying for two more months, he doesn’t have a lot with him.” His eyes scrunched up thoughtfully, thin lips pinched together in thought.
“Well, he’s a man.”
“So am I, and I would have traveled with five times as much as he has. It didn’t even fill the closet or drawers.” His expression was shocked, bordering on horrified. “I think I’m going to have to get him a few things. He has one button-up long-sleeved shirt, one tie, and one blazer. That’s it!”
I smiled and thought about how manly Hank was. He didn’t worry about clothing or dressing to the nines. Frankly, I couldn’t care less. The less clothes he wore the better, in my book.
“So buy him more clothing if it makes you feel better. Maybe take him shopping when he’s up to it.”
Oliver’s eyes lit up like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day to spread its rays of light in every direction. He clasped his hands together and spun around on one toe in a perfect circle. “Oh, my very own personal man doll.” His shoulders squeezed together in excitement.
“Not something you want to say to Hank. He’s liable to punch you in the face for suggesting you want to play Barbies using him as your personal Ken doll.” I tried to hide my grin.
His eyes went wide, nostrils flared. “You think he’d punch me in the face? Seriously?”
“Um, No.” My laugh sounded loud echoing off the bathroom walls. “Now let’s go. I need to get him settled and then head to AIR for a meeting this afternoon.”
We made it to the hospital in record time. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my belly and the jackhammering of my heart. The moment I opened the door to Hank’s room all the nerves dissipated. He stood at the hospital mirror combing his dark hair, dressed in a pair of low hanging sweats that accentuated his lean hips and firm, muscular thighs.
From the back his white t-shirt stretched across a chest wide enough to be a professional football player’s. The bandaged shoulder and left arm were held to his chest in a blue sling. Beautiful honeyed green eyes caught mine in the reflection in the mirror. His face split into a wide grin showing white, even teeth. He was cleanly shaven and his hair damp as he slicked the pieces back.
“Mornin’, Angel.”
“Morning, Stud. You ready to break out of here?”
He turned around and smiled. “I reckon’ there’s just one thing I need before we jet out.”
He didn’t have much with him. I looked around the room for anything that seemed out of place. In a few strides he stood in front of me large and looming. He palmed the back of my neck, and dug his fingers into my hairline. In seconds his lips devoured mine.
My hands went around his form cautiously, mindful of his wounded side. Slick strands wet my fingers as I gripped his hair, bringing his face to mine in the process. A growl emanated from his throat as he nipped and tugged at my lips. Liquid heat boiled at the surface between my thighs.