Fallen Angel--Installment Three--Original Sin (X-rated, sexual content)

He pushed himself inside me and I drew a sharp breath. My hands roamed over his bare back and I crushed my breasts against his upper torso. I couldn't get enough of him.

The night had gone by in a blur. How had we lost control? The horror at the motel and the subsequent explosion...no. I jerked myself to the present. The gorgeous man between my legs, filling me. And his scent filled my nostrils, like a hot ocean breeze or the warm smell of passing a bakery on the city street. His skin, with its fine sheen of persperation, seared mine as his sculpted body bore down on mine. Everything about him spoke of heat, even the bourbon on his breath.

"Xavier," I murmured against his full lips.

"Yeah, babe? You feel okay?" His voice trembled.

"Oh yeah."

One massive hand snaked beneath my neck and his mouth brushed against mine. I felt like he was holding back and I didn't want him to. Flipping him onto his back, I straddled him without breaking the free of the kiss. My tongue plunged into his mouth and I sucked at his bottom lip. A low growl rumbled in his throat.

As the kiss ended, I sat back, taking all of his shaft inside me. I planted my hands on his broad chest and used them as leverage. His pelvis pressed upward to meet my thrusting. His thumb toyed with my clit as I rode him. Again, I called out his name, but this time he responded only by capturing one breast in his mouth. Pleasurable tension built in my abdomen and my fingernails dug into his skin. He didn't complain.

Sweat dripped from my hairline, down my back. I was tired, but I wouldn't stop, no matter how badly my legs burned from the effort. He had me too close to coming to let it slip away. I tightened my grip on him with my thighs. My breathing picked up speed and the tension inside me grew unbearable. A few more swipes with his thumb and I cried out--just nonsense really--as a powerful orgasm shook me. My body froze, wracked with tremors. I breathed through the height of the climax and slid slowly down the other side.

Exhausted, I collapsed against him, but he wasn't finished yet. With the same delicate touch he'd used earlier, he rolled me beneath him, his body flush against mine. His tongue ran over my neck and he nibbled at my throat. Capturing my mouth, he moved within me again. I closed my eyes and spread my legs wider to take in more of his shaft. His movements grew less fluid and he thrust with more and more force. Suddenly, he buried himself inside me. He groaned and arched his back, eyes turned toward the ceiling. Rapid-fire gasps for air shook his chest. I wrapped my arms around him.

His head came to rest in the crook of my neck. I ran my fingers through his damp curls. In the distance, sirens continued to wail. The world could come to an end for all I cared at the moment. Neither of us spoke a word.

We didn't have to.

We both knew what this was--a moment born of the need to connect with another--even if his tenderness made it feel like it meant more.

Fallen Angel--Installment Two--Sins of the Past

R-rated--language, violent content.

Two years earlier...

The moist night air seemed to settle on my skin leaving a sticky feeling over my entire body. After wiping my brow, I cranked up the AC in my Karmann Ghia. The weather had been unusually hot for this time of year and I wanted nothing more than relax poolside at my apartment complex. But I was working a case for a wealthy client. His wife had disappeared with the kid and four million of his money. Mr. Rinaldo hired me to track down the Mrs. and get back his child and his money and not necessarily in that order. My trip to the pool would have to wait. The trail Vera Rinaldo had left led to a sleepy motel on the edge of town.

As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I knew something was hinky. First of all, there were no lights on anywhere--not in any guest rooms, not in the front lobby. Even the street sign sat dark. Though my Spidey sense tingled like mad, I climbed out of the car and edged toward the front office, keeping my right hand on my thirty-eight. Just in case.

A rank odor hit me, unlike anything I'd ever smelled. My gag reflex threatened to bring up the remnants of my dinner. Clamping my free hand over my nose, I pressed forward. The door to the office hung ajar.

"Hello?" I called out. No one answered.

I crept inside and kept my back to the wall. Holding my breath I felt to the side of the door jamb and finally found a light switch. The fluorescent bulbs flickered and buzzed, but eventually a dim glow filled the space around me. What I saw sent me reeling backward, through the doorway and into the vacant parking lot where I wretched up the pasta I'd had for dinner.

The walls appeared to have been painted in blood and chunks of flesh and bone had exploded into stucco patterns across them. Who--or what--the fuck had done this?

Fishing my cell phone from my pocket, my fingers fumbled with the buttons, but I managed to dial 911. Words to describe the nature of my emergency failed me.

"It's a blood bath," I told the dispatcher. "A fucking blood bath."

She'd just instructed me to stay on the line when a pair of large hands grabbed me from behind. A scream formed in my throat, but those massive hands muffled it.

"Shh," a low male voice instructed. "I'm not going to hurt you, but you can't stay here. It's not safe."

I threw my head back, hoping to crack my assailant in the nose, but only caught the edge of his collarbone. How tall was this guy?

"Listen, stop struggling. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he said, jerking me along toward a black Cadillac Escalade.

Oh hell no. No way I was going out like this. Biting, clawing, and kicking, I fought each step of the journey to the vehicle. If I could break free or at least delay the bastard for a few minutes, Erosity PD would be here. But he proved stronger than any person I've ever fought before. He shoved me into the back of the SUV and slammed the door shut. I tugged at the handle to no avail. My last hope, I yanked my thirty-eight and aimed it at the driver's side door. As soon as he opened it to get in, I squeezed the trigger.

"Damn it, lady," he swore, "I'm trying to save your life."

I'd missed? How the hell had I missed at this close range? Firing off two more shots, I knew one would have to put him down, disable him at the least. But his large frame hopped into the seat, pulling the door shut. He cranked the engine and then reached around to disarm me.

Tossing the gun onto the front floorboard, he tore out of the parking lot. I kicked at the back of his seat and screamed for help, but somehow he managed to keep driving. About a half mile down the road, he pulled over in a diner parking lot.

"This is where you get out." He rubbed his head where I'd landed a kick and climbed out of the SUV.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I jerked the handle on the back door and tripped out onto the pavement. A boom deafened me; it'd come from the direction of the motel. A tower of flame shot into the air and then dissipated with a crackling hiss. Sirens wailed from all directions.

"Did--did you do that?" I asked, my voice trembling. Searching his dark expression, I knew already he hadn't.

"No," he shook his head, waves of black hair fell into his eyes. "And no need to thank me for saving your life."

"Th-thanks." I wiped my hands on my torn skirt. "My name's Ruby."

"I'm Xavier." He nodded. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah. Likewise." I turned my gaze back to the billows of smoke that blotted out the streetlights. What the hell was going on here?

"You want to get a cup of coffee, Ruby?" Xavier jerked his head toward the dinner.

"No," I replied and pointed to the bar across the street. A stiff drink seemed in order.

Fallen Angel--Installment One--Ruby Red

Installment One--Ruby Red

rated PG-13


To paraphrase that old TV show, there a million stories in this naked city--and it is a naked city in every sense of the term. Love and sex and magic run rampant here, but I tried not to get swept up in the fervor of it. I played my cards close to my chest and kept my hands to myself. For the most part. That was until he fell into my lap. Literally.

My name's Ruby, Ruby Calypso, and I'm a private detective. My daddy was a private detective and his daddy before him. You could say I inherited the family business. I should've been born a boy--at least Dad seemed to think so--but since there was no stem on my apple, what are you gonna do? So, I played baseball with the neighborhood boys, started smoking cigars at twelve and learne how to throw a proper body check. Drop your shoulder and explode into him, that's the key to a good body check. These days, though, I don't engage in much hand-to-hand combat. Now, I carry a Sig Sauer .380, licensed of course. What it can't stop, I don't need to catch.

Anyway, I was telling you about the angel. Yeah, that's what I said. The angel. Strangest case I ever came across, and that's saying a lot in this town. It was about eleven-thirty that night. I should've gone home, but I didn't feel much like watching the boob tube with Mr. Jingles. My cat. At the time, Mr. Jingles was the only man in my life. A lamentable fact to say the least. I was itching for some action and decided to stop by the Red Light. The place was a dive, but it was a great place to get quietly drunk and pick up a boy toy for the evening.

I walked into the joint and flipped a wave to Petey, the bartender. He set me up with my usual Bombay Sapphire on the rocks with a twist. No olives, please. I slid a hundred across the bar and told him to keep 'em coming.

"That kinda night?" asked Petey.

"It's always that kind of night." I cracked a smile and walked to my favorite booth. Okay, so I hung out here a lot. Petey was always good and if worse came to worse, I could take him home for some entertainment. Granted, he wasn't as young as he used be--chin a little softer, abs not quite so delineated, but you could still see the ball player he used to be. And he could go all night. An admirable quality indeed.

Just as I settled in with my drink, the angel walked into the place. Of course, I didn't know at the time what he was, but he was tall and impeccably dressed; he drew my attention effortlessly. A black overcoat hung from his broad shoulders which I thought was odd because it was too hot for a coat like that. But I dismissed the funny feeling. In my line of work, paranoia is an occupational hazard. That night, I didn't want to overanalyze this gorgeous man. Instead, I opted to lose myself in his gray-green eyes, taut dusky skin and thousand-watt smile. And he was smiling at me. I returned the grin and dropped my gaze. But his eyes stayed on me. I could feel them peering beneath my clothes, the palpable heat of his gaze setting me afire.

I called over Dee Dee, the waitress, and told her to put Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome's drink on my tab. She clattered over to him and whispered in his ear. He looked my way again and lifted his glass to me. I gave a shrug and pursed my lips.

We played the game for a couple more hours, flirting across the crowded room. He seemed to be waiting for someone. I know the signs all too well. Checking his watch every few minutes, sweeping the sea of faces with an expectant expression. But his eyes always came back to me. Enough was enough. One of us had to make a move and I'd run out of patience.

Picking up my drink, I sauntered over to his place at the bar.

"Hey," I said to a man and his date who shared a stool next to my quary. "I just left that booth over there. Why don't you two take it?"

They thanked me and hurried away. I slipped onto the stool and faced the beautiful man next to me. I asked, "Were you ever going to come over and talk to me?"

He smiled and checked his watch. "Of course I was. Just have some business to attend to before I can play.

I ran a finger along his jawline "But when you're free, you'd like to play with me?"

A sharp inhalation and a raise of his eyebrows told me all I needed to know. Tossing down the last of my fifth--or was it sixth?--drink, I handed him my business card. Meet me here when you're done.

He assured me he would and I waved goodbye.

The trip to my office a couple blocks away took about ten minutes. Could've been less if the sidewalk hadn't been swimming in front of me. Once I'd closed and locked the door, I kicked off my heels and stripped off my skirt and blouse. I freshened up in the bathroom and flipped on the radio. A top forty station played a pop song with a driving beat. I reclined on the leather sofa and skimmed through a magazine.

About thirty minutes later, a knock roused me. I'd dozed off. Wiping my eyes and checking my breath, I hurried to the door. His familiar silhouette darkened the frosted glass.

"Hey, you," I said, sweeping open the door.

"Oh my. That's some way to greet a man." His eyes roamed over my scantily clad body.

"Thought I'd cut to the chase for you."

He laughed and gathered me in his arms. His generous mouth engulfed mine and I melted against his solid form. We'd played our little game long enough.

"I missed you, Xavier," I murmured as our lips parted. "God, it's been years. Why didn't you let me know you're in town?"

He bristled and edged away a little. A sigh filled the space between us. "Listen, Ruby, there's something I need to tell you."

But he didn't get the chance to go on. A crash and darkness. A dark figure ran through the hall, jostling us. Xavier let out a strange hiss and crumbled in my arms. Though he had a good seventy pounds on me, I did my best to ease him to the floor without dropping him.

"Xavi? What happened?" I blinked, desparate for my eyes to adjust to the blackness. My first instinct told me to run after the attacker, but I didn't know the extent of Xavier's injuries and I was in my skivvies. Pursuit would have to wait.

I pulled Xavi from the hall into my office and closed the door. I flipped on the overhead light and saw a blackish ooze seeping through a hand he had clamped to his abdomen. I pulled open his coat and stripped off his shoulder holster. He was packing--that explained the heavy jacket. Using a pair of scissors from my desk, I cut open his shirt and wrangled the fabric from beneath him. The shirt was the only thing close to a dressing I had so I balled it up and pressed it against the wound. The gash was dangerously close to his left lung. Searching blindly with my free hand, I reached for my jacket which contained my cell phone.

But then white light filled the room and I reeled backward, allowing the shirt I'd been using to staunch the blood to fall to the floor. I pair of blinding silver wings --yes, wings--spread out behind his back.

"What the fuck...?" I gasped.

"Ruby," he said and reached for me. "Don't be afraid."

As I watched in disbelief, his injury sealed up all on its own...and then vanished.