Chapter Fifteen-Giselle
CHAPTER FIFTEEN-GISELLE
“ H ere,” Angel says, pouring me the last of the unfiltered saké.
It’s sweet and delicious, and I accept the small glass.
“Thank you.”
We managed to eat our way through an entire tower of sushi and sashimi delights. They seemed to know Angel here, and we didn’t even have to order.
The head chef came out to greet us when we first got here, and they exchanged a few words in Japanese, which shocked the shit out of me. But I didn’t ask any questions.
Truth is, I don’t want him to brush me off. So I just sit and wait.
He’s attentive, which isn’t really new. But the setting is.
I bite my lip, thinking about how Angel held my hand the whole way to our table. He is the perfect gentleman, something I didn’t expect from the big brutish man.
I kind of like this side of him. And I know I shouldn’t. That I should keep my guard up. But it’s so damn nice to go out with a good-looking man whose attention seems all for me.
This place is expensive and exclusive. There are beautiful people filling every table, and I’ve noticed more than one pair of eyes taking him in from head to toe.
I don’t blame them. How often does a man like him walk through any door? He’s enormous, handsome, and with those tattoos and the thick gages he has in his ears tonight, he looks like sin personified.
I know from Maria that Luc has some pretty kinky body piercings, and I wonder. I mean, yes, technically we’ve had sex. But it’s always been rushed and half-clothed.
I’ve felt him. Touched him. But I’ve never seen Angel completely naked.
And I want to. I want him under bright lights so I can inspect every inch, memorize every detail.
Hell.
I think it’s safe to say I have a very strong preoccupation with this man.
But I’m trying to break old habits here, and even though I am a bit miffed, he denied me an orgasm earlier, I am beginning to understand.
Maybe he’s trying to woo me this time.
Hope sparks deep inside me, but I’m still afraid to grasp it.
“Your thoughts are loud, Koukla. Talk to me,” he says, and his command is clear.
“What? Oh. Nothing. This is nice,” I say, relenting under his brazen stare.
“Glad you like it.”
He turns the conversation, and we talk about family.
“So it’s just you and Resa?” he asks.
“Yeah. Mom and Dad wanted more children, but two girls were enough, or so my father always says,” I joke.
I always feel like a bad sister and daughter for trying to have my own life. Starting my own business. Moving out when I was just out of school. But independence is important to me.
Funny how, with Angel, all I want is the opposite.
I don’t want to be independent of him. I want him to possess me. And I am not sure how to feel about that.
Does it make me weak or stupid or what?
I really don’t know. But denial is getting tougher the longer we do this.
“What about you? Brothers or sisters?” I ask.
“Nah. Nico and Luc are my blood brothers, and Nico is my first cousin. But with Yiayia gone, that’s it for family. Well, now I got a baby cousin, too, I guess,” he says and grins at the mention of Nico and Anna’s son.
“So, you’re close to your sister?”
“Resa is like seven years younger, so not as much as maybe other siblings. But I mean, I would do anything for her,” I tell him.
“Of course you would.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You’re the most loyal, giving person I know. The way you stormed into the Den that first time, ready to take a piece out of me,” he shakes his head and chuckles.
“In my defense I thought you were Nico,” I say, and my cheeks are burning.
“And doesn’t that make it worse? You were gonna take on the king for your best friend. I never saw anything like it. You are so brave. And you got such a big heart, Little Doll,” he says, whispering the last bit and reaching out to touch my wrist.
Damn.
His words are like a balm to my soul and his fingers, well, they just feel so good wherever they touch me. I suck in a breath, and I just try to absorb them.
“Thank you. It’s really nice to have someone say things like that to me.”
“It’s just the truth, Sisi.”
Sharing little things about ourselves seems surreal. I mean, Angel is not the kind of man I expect to open up easily. But he does.
He tells me about his Greek grandmother who raised him. How she’s the reason he is even alive today. And I wish she were here so I could thank her to.
“Is Koukla Greek?” I ask, suddenly stringing it together.
“It is,” he tells me with a grin.
“What does it mean?” I ask, and he chuckles.
“Beautiful, Little Doll. It means you,” he murmurs and lifts my hand by my wrist to drop a soft kiss on it.
Swoon.
I swear my ovaries are erupting like the fourth of July over here.
“Are you ready for dessert?”
He is asking a question that usually follows dinner. But my body has other ideas, and my blood starts heating.
“That kind of dessert you get later, Little Doll. Right now, I was thinking mochi,” he replies with a knowing grin.
“Um, sure. I’ll have the lavender green tea mochi, please,” I tell the waitress, who unobtrusively appears at our table the second he says dessert.
She bows slightly and turns to Angel.
“I’ll have the same.”
After dinner, we drive to the Den, and I feel hyperaware of everything.
My brain keeps replaying what he said earlier, and I squeeze my thighs together.
That kind of dessert you get later.
Does he mean what I think he means? I hate to just assume he’s talking about sex. I mean I know he wants me. But he’s a virile kinda guy.
What if someone else in here catches his fancy? What then?
Shit. I am spiraling. And I refuse to do anything other than have a good time tonight.
Angel took me out for a fantastic dinner. He’s giving me a place to stay. Protecting me against unseen enemies.
And I’m about to hang out with my girlfriends, which is something I haven’t done in months.
I decide to shelf the innuendo he let slip earlier. I am an adult. If I want to have sex with a man, I can.
I just have to hang on to my heart.
Easy peasy, right?
But even as I try to coach myself, Angel opens my door, holding his tattooed hand out to me, and my heart stutters inside my chest.
“You ready, Little Doll?”
Casual sex Angel was difficult to turn down. But this Angel? The attentive, seemingly sincere one. Well, he might be damn near impossible to resist.
Am I ready? There’s only one way to find out.
Gulp.
We enter from the back of the club, and I know it’s the Vipers’ private entrance.
Huge, hulking men who work under Angel line the hall and the entryways. Each door is opened for us, and I watch in awe as Angel’s mien turns from one of heated attention to complete and utter no nonsense.
I understand. These men have to respect him. He is the authority here, and he can’t go around grinning and looking soft for them the way he does for me.
There is something completely and totally sexy about the way he handles himself. He is so fucking hot.
And dumb or not, I feel special being the woman on his arm.
Angel’s presence is commanding. He moves with more grace than I imagined a man his size could.
Everything he does is with purpose.
He looks expensive.
Sexy.
Lethal.
He’s dressed in all black and the result is, well , it’s making me squirm. I feel lucky to be beside him. To be the one he chose.
His shirt and pants look like they are made of Italian linen.
They’re soft. I know because throughout our meal Angel kept finding ways to touch me. He sat beside me, not across.
The better to share , he said, and I had zero complaints about the situation.
I imagine his clothes feel nice and light in the warm September air. My skirt is tight, but the material is stretchy, and the loose, low-cut top makes up for it.
My clothes are nowhere near as expensive as his clothes, and I think about how different our lives are.
Angel looks incredible, and right now, in my heels and provocative outfit I think maybe we match. I mean, I hope we do. But then my thoughts stray to that skinny blonde, and I stumble my next step.
“Easy,” he murmurs, looking down at me with concern in his eyes as his hand grips my elbow.
Steadying me.
He’s so strong. Like velvet covered steel. His movements are so smooth as he rights my misstep.
I have one second to get my head on straight before Angel is already leading me through the crowd, to the table where Anna and Maria are already seated with their guys.
“Gurrllll! You look hot!” Anna says and stands to grab me in a hug.
Nico is watching her like a hawk, and it doesn’t escape my attention that Luc does the same when Maria tackle hugs me next.
Angel sits in an empty chair, his back to the wall, and the men all talk to each other in low voices. After we finish hugging it out, Anna, Maria, and I join them.
We sit boy girl, and I feel butterflies in my stomach. They’re both married and in love, and I am not sure what me and Angel are. But it’s not that.
At least, I don’t think so.
Don’t you dare fall in love with him, I warn myself.
“Would you like a drink, Koukla?” Angel turns his attention to me, and I freeze.
His blue eyes are so pale and light, and all his focus on me, and fuck me, I wonder if maybe I’m not already halfway there.
“Little Doll?” he prompts, his thick eyebrows furrowing.
“Yeah. Sure. Um, surprise me.” I nod as I squeeze my hands in my lap.
Angel nods his head, and one of the guards walks over. He gives them our order and I think he got me a lemon drop martini, which I am partial to, so I smile my thanks.
The music is loud, but it’s good. The six of us are sitting, talking, and having a good time. At least, the women are. The men seem on alert, but I get it.
This is their place and since they are who they are, shit happens.
I notice there are more security guards, more of Angel’s men, on the floor than usual and I think it must have something to do with the enemies he mentioned earlier.
But they know how to do their jobs and to anyone else, they look like regular security and not a bunch of soldiers for the Vipers' crime syndicate.
I swallow.
Everything about Angel screams danger. But I can’t help myself. Maybe I got a thing for bad boys. Or maybe it’s just him.
Funny. I come from an average, middle class, warm, loving, and nosy as fuck family. It’s easy to get lost in all the noise.
I am not familiar with violence. At least, not up close and personal. And it should bug me that Angel is a lawless, brutish man.
But it doesn’t. He has never been violent towards me. In fact, quite the opposite.
My friends seem fine with their men, and their lifestyles. Maybe I’m just overthinking everything. And I am tired of doing that.
I want to feel good. To have fun. To enjoy the moment.
I’m thinking if moments are all Angel has to offer, maybe I should take them while I can. Squirrel them away for a rainy day.
Maybe Tennyson is right. I think back to my college lit class. Maybe it is better to have loved than to have never experienced love at all.
Oh my God. I am getting morose. That’s it. No more thinking tonight.
I finish my drink, I feel loose and relaxed.
“Let’s dance!” Maria shouts, and suddenly I’m being pulled to the dance floor.
I look at Angel and see him watching me, and I bite my lip.
“Yeah,” I say, and I think I am ready for this. I hope I am.
“Let’s dance.”