Chapter 8

Sarah

The erotic dream Sarah thought she’d been having turned out to be more real than she imagined. Her trembling body woke in ecstasy to find Angel’s head between her spread open legs as the spasms of pleasure shot through her body, and she arched her back in reaction. She ran her fingers through his hair while her barely awake mouth let out an unabashed moan as Angel slowed the glorious rhythm of his tongue. The spasms came again and again, and Sarah had to wonder how she’d possibly slept through the beginning of it.

Remembering the night they’d had, she smiled in satisfaction as he kissed her one last time, and she began coming down from the amazing climax. Now she remembered and it made sense. After last night, they’d both finally passed out completely spent.

“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly as Angel scooted up and lay down next to her.

“Good morning, baby.” With that beautiful smile and those dimples that owned her heart completely, Angel smiled down at her, kissing her forehead. “I hope that wasn’t too rude of a wake-up call. I just couldn’t help myself.”

Sarah laughed softly, still trying to catch her breath, the tingling throughout her body not even close to settling down. “Trust me. You’ll never hear me complain.”

Snuggling up next to her, Angel wrapped his arms around her from behind tightly and groaned, burying his face in her neck before kissing it. “You have no idea how good it felt to wake up and realize I was still here with you.”

Sarah groaned too as he squeezed her even tighter. “Well, you don’t have to guess what waking up like that was like for me.” She turned her to face him with a very satisfied smile. “That was mind-blowing,” she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips.

“You tired?” he asked. “I can make you breakfast while you sleep a little longer.”

“I don’t think I can sleep, but I am hungry,” she said with an excited smile.

Last night’s exhausting evening and night and then this morning’s wakeup call had really helped work up an appetite.

“French toast?” he asked with a knowing smile, and she nodded immediately.

He sat up. “I can make it for you while you get that email together for your brother. I know you said you were anxious about that. I think the sooner you get it done and out of your system the sooner you can relax.”

That actually sounded like a plan. French toast was her favorite, and Angel’s kick-ass French toast far surpassed her own. “My mom just bought a new loaf of Texas toast bread.”

“Cool,” he said, already getting up. “Then French toast for my baby it is.”

They threw on some shorts and T-shirts. Angel headed out into the kitchen while Sarah gathered her laptop then went and sat on a bar stool at the kitchen counter.

“Do you already know what you’re gonna say?” Angel asked as he whisked eggs in a bowl.

“Sort of,” she said, staring at the blank email. “I wanna keep it simple but at the same time tell him a little about myself since I do know about him. I was also thinking of sending him a photo of myself.” She glanced up, not sure what to expect from Angel, but he didn’t even look up from the eggs he was whisking. “It only seems fair, you know? I know what he and my dad look like. I was thinking of doing the same with my dad’s email.”

It still felt weird referring to Omar as dad, but Angel was right. Technically, that’s what he was. Angel’s reaction surprised her. Since he was always so cautious and doubtful, she expected him to maybe discourage it. Instead, he shrugged as he dipped the bread into the egg, not even looking up. “That sounds about right. Wouldn’t take much for him to look you up and find any photos you may have online anyway.”

This was true. She had a ton of photos on herself on several of her social media sites. If Leonardo were really as anxious about meeting her as her dad said, he probably had already seen her photos.

Feeling a little more at ease about this now that Angel wouldn’t be trying to talk her out of it, she started searching through her photos. Angel cooked quietly for a while as she obsessed about what photo to send him. She wanted something simple but current. She finally narrowed it down to two. One of her standing against Angel’s new car he’d gotten last year. She was dressed simply enough in jeans and a strappy summer top or the one of her sitting on a hammock holding Romero’s uncles’ fat cat. The size of that fuzzy thing might make an interesting yet safe and impersonal topic to talk about.

It was silly really how she’d dismissed every single one of the photos she’d considered sending. It was always for the stupidest reasons.

Any of the ones of her in her track uniform: He might think she’s showing off her running skills.

Most of the ones with her on the beach: Showing too much skin. She was his long lost sister, not a potential online suitor.

The group photos with all of Angel’s family and friends: Too showy. He might think her a braggart about the amount of friends she had.

She kissed Angel and thanked him as he set the plate with French toast down next to her laptop and sat down next to her. “Is that the one you’re sending him?” Angel said, looking at the photo on the screen. “Of you holding Flea?”

She crinkled her nose and turned to him. “That’s a simple enough one, right?”

“Sure, why not? A photo of you petting your—” Angel was distracted when his cell phone on the other side of the counter buzzed.