Chapter Twenty-One-Giselle
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE-GISELLE
D ays later.
The ground beneath my feet is squishy, but I don’t mind. I’m wearing thick soled sandals, and the sun is shining.
If my feet get a little wet, it’s not the biggest deal. Besides, I am having a wonderful time.
So far, we’ve watched jugglers, minstrels, and an exhibit featuring birds of prey. A falcon ate a piece of dried meat right out of my hand, and it was amazing.
This is not the kind of place I would have ever guessed a man like Angel Fury would go on a date.
That he would take me , of all people, is a whole other category of things I find difficult to believe.
But he did take me, and I am having the best time ever.
“Where are we again?” I ask.
I can’t stop my smile from widening as I take in all the stands and people in costumes.
“Tuxedo Park. Haven’t you ever been to the Renaissance Faire?” Angel asks, taking a monstrous bite out of a turkey leg that’s the size of his forearm.
So yeah, fucking huge.
He offers the leg to me, and I lean forward and take a hefty size bite, too.
I giggle and wipe my mouth with a napkin he hands me. It’s weird, but even knowing I just made a pig of myself, I don’t feel embarrassed.
I’m a big girl, and I eat. In fact, Angel seems to have this deep-rooted fascination with sharing meals. Lately, he seems to always want to take me out to eat. Sometimes we order in. And sometimes we cook.
The thing I am really starting to love is no matter what we get, he is obsessed with sharing. It’s like he’s forever giving me bites of his food and vice versa.
And I love it.
It’s such a normal couple thing to do, and we are not a normal couple. I don’t know what we are.
A week passed since that night at the Den, and ever since then we’ve been spending every minute together between jobs. I’ve started up work again, using Angel’s ridiculously high-speed internet to connect with my clients.
Figuring out social media algorithms is a passion of mine.
Don’t ask.
But I enjoy what I do. Creating content and helping small businesses get their names out means something to me. Sometimes it feels like we’re all just shouting into the vast void that is the internet.
With my job, I can make reaching the right audiences a little bit easier for certain people and their brands. Plus, I get to use cool art and design apps.
With Angel spending more time at home and less at the Den, we’ve been sort of going at it like bunnies.
Well, if bunnies were jacked up monster sized gangsters.
Ironically, I am still not bothered by what he does for a living. In fact, the more I learn, the more I see there is hardly a difference between the criminal side and the legit side of Viper Enterprises.
Angel is pretty keen on the developmental aspects of their legitimate business. It was a surprise to learn he made all the actual renovations inside the condo when he bought Nico out.
“I like to work with my hands,” he said, which led to him showing me what else he liked to do with his hands.
I admit, I am a bonafide fan of Angel Fury’s hands.
“Jousting starts in ten minutes. Let’s go grab a spot,” he says, and takes my hand, moving me in front of him.
He’s so big. Attention just flocks to Angel wherever we go, and lately, that’s everywhere. It’s like he’s intent on showing me he wants to be with me.
Angel has been sweet, attentive, sexy, and insatiable.
And, well, I love it.
It’s not just the things we do in bed, and elsewhere . I mean homeboy is super creative when it comes to fucking.
And I have to admit, I love the way he fucks me.
But this time, it feels different. It’s more.
He takes me to restaurants almost every day, or orders in. I offer to cook, but so far, he has yet to agree. It’s like he wants to spoil me, and I haven’t been spoiled a lot in my life, so I let him.
He rented out an entire movie theater the other night, and he invited Nico, Anna, Luc, and Maria, too. He knows how much I’ve missed them and he’s intent on providing us with safe places to just chill, which really is the sweetest thing ever.
He even had Mrs. Pirillo, Anna’s live in housekeeper and part-time nanny, join us so she could have Jr. on hand.
Our trays were loaded with popcorn, candy, and my favorite snack food of all time, movie theater hot dogs.
I might have mentioned how much I like them, and Angel remembered. He remembers everything I say, and it gives me the strangest sensations inside.
Yes, we still go to the Viper’s Den. I mean, there is no getting around it. He needs to make appearances there. I know he is not happy about it, but he brings me with him. anyway
I should clarify that by saying he isn’t happy about me being around his work. None of the men are when it comes to their women. But this is still new, and he won’t leave me home alone.
I don’t mind. I like the Den. Always have. It’s different this time, though.
No more quickies in his office. No more stolen moments.
I kind of miss that, to be honest, but I am not complaining. Because now, when I get Angel all to myself, he is anything but quick.
He is slow and thorough, and he makes me come every single time. That’s not something I’ve had with any other man.
It’s like he is on a one man mission to prove himself, and I am happy to let him.
My entire body is always so attuned to his nearness, so primed for him.
All he has to do is to be here, and it’s like my fireworks go off inside every nerve ending.
This date is just the two of us. So, I can’t try to convince myself he’s doing this to get in good with Nico because I am Anna’s friend.
I’ve had that thought before and it’s not one of my proudest moments.
I’m always talking about self-image and how society has tried to brainwash bigger girls into thinking we need to be grateful for any attention that comes our way.
But I never believed in any of that bullshit. And I don’t believe Angel needs to suck up to his cousin for any reason. Their relationship seems solid enough without that.
So, why is it so hard for me to accept this big, sexy, powerful man wants me for me? Why is it unfathomable to believe Angel wants me for me?
Maybe it’s time for me to shed all that negativity and just go for it.
Dive in, Sisi. The water is fine.
If Angel is the metaphorical water, then he is more than fine. He’s fucking perfect. And it’s time for me to admit I want him, too. That what I feel for him isn’t run of the mill.
I am so sick of playing games.
Angel has given me no reason to doubt his interest in me, and I don’t want to pretend I haven’t noticed. That I don’t want him, too.
Because I do want him.
I want him so badly.