Free Independence: #2 Angel by Karen Nichols

always on time. She handed her the tray and sent her to Carlie with a smile.
    “You shouldn’t be back here,” Angel quickly checked the ovens and then the various timers, her hands twisting in the colorful apron she wore.
    “Why not?” Colin put one hand into the pocket of his coat, fingering the narrow box inside. “I looked for you last night at the club.”
    She stared at him in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d want me back. I…disobeyed and left…”
    “Leaving and disobeying didn’t upset me as much as worry me, Angel. I’d rather you hunted me down and told me the problem, but we’re still working on things,” Colin told her quietly. “I brought you something. I’d like you to wear it tonight when you come to the club.”
    “I don’t think it would be good for me to go back. It wasn’t one of my brighter ideas,” she told him, keeping her gaze on the cookies she was arranging in the container to go into the display case. “I have a tendency to make people angry and I wouldn’t wish that on you. You should find yourself a nice girl without issues and…and…a semi-sane family and the ability to…”
    She was sure she had more to say. A lot more and she knew the words were in her brain. She’d practiced the speech for the last week. Up until his hand gripped the nape of her neck and tipped her head back. She saw him moving closer but it was kind of a really fast blur and then it was like kissing a cloud.
    It wasn’t a hard demand. It wasn’t what she’d been prepared for.
    His mouth moved softly, seductively from one corner to the other and his free hand went to her waist, not giving her room to move out of his grasp. He tasted the cookies and sugar and more on her lips, his tongue delving between them and stroking along hers. A tiny mewl broke from deep in her throat when she tried to move and found her arms trapped down her sides.
    Colin knew this had not been his intent. He didn’t intend to get totally lost in the taste of Angelica Morehouse in the middle of her kitchen on a busy Saturday morning. He had intended to make certain she was alright. Safe. He’d checked up on her the night she fled the club and had felt like a stalker, watching from the street outside her apartment building.
    Then he saw the pure joy on her face and heard her laughter and it was as if none of the things she’d told him about, had ever happened to her. That there was a safe place for her to go where she could conquer the words that wouldn’t leave her alone.
    He withdrew just enough to trace a slow line around her lower lip before tugging it gently between his teeth. She didn’t protest the touch or the kiss. The passion she returned sent twinges of hope through him. He’d dreamt of kissing her, something that had never invaded his unconscious before and something the far surpassed what his imagination had conjured.
    “I want you to come back to the club tonight, Angelica.”
    “I don’t want to make you angry.”
    “And I want to teach you there’s a vast difference between the power and control of ego and abuse versus the nurturing and compassion the flows between a dominant and his sub,” Colin stared down into her eyes. “Come to the club tonight. Please. For me.”
    The patience and honesty she saw in his face decided her response.
    “Yes, Sir,” Angel said firmly.
    His hands moved to her shoulders, turning them gently until her back was against his chest.
    “Don’t move,” he pulled the case from his pocket and opened it with one hand. He lifted the silver braided half inch band with the special addition he’d found at the jewelers before coming to her bakery. The angel was inlaid in cloisonné colors of pink, blue and gold with delicate wings and a soft halo of silver above her head. He fastened the collar and again gripped her shoulders, leading her forward to the mirror that was hung on the wall next to what he guessed was her office.
    She felt the cool, slim line being placed on