Hearts the Last Beat (Angel Fire #6) - Ellie Masters Page 0,2

and I step on board. With one last chance to turn around and stop this foolishness, I press the button that will take me down to the rocky beach.

I’m so goddamn fucked.

She’s too young.

That warning voice in my head won’t shut the fuck up. I remind it that I’m no saint. I’ve dipped my dick in more eighteen-year-olds than I can remember. If it was okay then, why is this any different?

Because she’s not yours.

Fuck off.

I rap my knuckles on the glass, irritated with myself. The fallout from this epic disaster will be catastrophic, yet it’s not enough to make me turn away. Not when the thought of living another day without Angel makes me sick in the stomach.

Why should I be denied my One when the rest of the guys found theirs?

I didn’t get in their way. I may have stepped in Ash’s way with Skye, but what he did, getting married after three days, was crazy insane and needed an intervention.

A crackle of energy shoots through me as the gondola slows. The high-voltage snap of alternating current makes me jump. I’ve heard the guys speak about it—it being that crazy connection between them and their wives.

It’s funny to think that in the year since Angel came to live at Insanity, that I’ve never felt her touch. We’ve sat next to each other, swam in the pool together. We’ve cooked meals side-by-side, but I’ve never felt her touch. No doubt it’ll feel like a bolt of lightning.

I do a double take when I see her and can’t help but blink. It’s not possible, but she’s even more stunning than I remember.

When she turned eighteen, I high-tailed it out of Insanity on one of my private jaunts. No way could I handle that temptation.

Breath-stealing, soul-searing, heart-pounding, jaw-dropping gorgeous, her hazel-green eyes widen as she stares at me. Her full, kissable lips press together, and the tip of her tongue darts out to wet them.

Her eager eyes betray her interest, but she quickly schools her features. Despite my current state of frustrated arousal, I’ve spent the majority of this last year feigning disinterest toward Bash’s daughter.

The few times she tested the waters, flirting with me, I shut her down with a scowl. Always, I stalked off.

I walked away.

But not today.

Today, I walk toward her instead of away.

Angel tugs at the hem of her denim cutoff shorts. They’re indecently short, showing off her cheeky ass and gape in the front. Like if I can catch the right angle, I’ll be able to see beneath the frustrating fabric.

I swear she does it to see how I’ll react. Bash hates those shorts. Says they’re indecent. And even though I agree, I think he’s out of line, considering the chicks he used to bang wore far more revealing clothing.

Angel holds my stare and bites her lower lip. Her pretty eyes dance with desire and spark with lust. They always have, from the first time our gazes slammed into each other. And just like that first time, I’m lost inside their pleading depths.

She begs me to give in. I never do.

Always, I shut her down. I feign disinterest and push her away.

She cants her head sideways as if trying to decide if she should try again. Wondering if I will again dismiss her. I see it all in the turbulence of her eyes as she demands answers to her unspoken question.

I draw back beneath the weight of that gaze. There is no going back if I move forward.

And the repercussions?

It’s going to be a game-changer.

With difficulty, I tear my gaze from hers. In my mind’s eye, I can’t help but imagine what her breathy moans will sound like when her hot body wraps around mine. Or how her hands will feel as they sear my flesh.

Will she be wild and free, shameless in her quest for pleasure? Or will she be demure and shy?

And then it hits.

I don’t even know if she’s a virgin.

Just like that, my passion is doused by the coldest water. That would change everything, but how do I find the answer to that burning question?

As this runs through my mind, she strolls toward me. So damn sexy with her long, toned legs, hips a man can grab hold of, a narrow waist that pinches in before her nubile tits flare out again. I ache to torture and tease those tits.

I step out of the gondola as she steps onto the platform.

“I knew you’d come.” She pulls a lock of hair over her