Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Without second thoughts, Gael pulled Angela closer and kissed her back. His heartbeat quickened at the unfamiliar feeling that's coursing through him at the moment. He had never experienced being so helpless like this, and he didn't like it. Yet at the same time, he wanted to welcome the strange feeling.

He let go of her hand, cupped the side of her face, and slanted his head just as she clutched his shirt. Her luscious lips were so damn soft that he had to be gentle, afraid that he would bruise her if he kissed her too hard. And they were so sweet that they were making it so hard for him to resist.

Angela skimmed the sides of his torso, gliding until her hands settled on his broad chest. Just a second ago, she had already resigned to stop herself from kissing him. However, the moment that he expressed his thoughts on wanting to kiss her, her resolve crumbled and she broke her own promise. She hated that she was too weak when it came to him, but at the same time, she consoled herself that it was okay to be selfish sometimes.

He ran his tongue on her bottom lip, and she parted her lips, welcoming its entry. Softly and ever so carefully, he stroked his tongue with hers and slightly tipped her upper body backward as he deepened their kiss. She couldn't help but wrap her arms around his neck, unabashedly pressing herself more to him. 'This is insane. This couldn't be this good,' she thought.

Feeling him nudge her backward, she took a few steps back until the side of her legs hit something. The next thing she knew, they were on the chaise lounge—Angela laid on her back while Gael was on top of her.

Both of them knew they needed to stop before they go any further than kissing, but neither of them broke their kiss. It was impossible to stop, what with them clearly wanting each other.

A cold, harsh breeze blew against them, but they still kissed. The noisy rustling of the leaves from the nearby tree seemed as though it was trying to call their attention, but they still kissed.

It wasn't until a loud cheer erupted from the wedding reception at the beach caused the two to break away. The song had ended; however, they didn't want to. This was definitely a different kind of dance, in which they wouldn't mind dancing for a really long time.

Their foreheads touched, and their eyes remained close as they relished the remnants of their intense feelings. Another cold breeze swept, and the rustling of leaves continued to make a noise, but this time, they were no longer kissing.

Gael shifted until he laid on his side, and he pulled her to his embrace. Angela rested her head on his shoulder and placed her hand on his chest, feeling his raging heartbeat beneath her palm. She felt him stroke her hair gently, calming her down from her high and she loved it.

The two were quiet for a while, and when he thought that she had fallen asleep, he heard her mumble, "I hate the smell of cigarettes."

His hand that was stroking her head stilled for a beat before he chuckled, his chest rumbling from his laugh, but he didn't say anything. He had smoked a stick earlier when he received Giovanni's call; the smell must have lingered since then. This woman could have said a thousand different things… She never fails to surprise him.

…

Time went by so fast, and they were now supposed to leave in half an hour. Gael went back to his suite to make sure he had packed everything while Angela double-checked that all of her stuff was already in her luggage. 

He changed into a suit while she wore a maxi dress. Then, they headed to the front desk and informed them of their check out. Daniel Cho had taken care of their bills, so the process was even faster. Angela almost wished that time would go slower.

Soon, they rode an SUV and were on their way to the airport. She only noticed when they boarded the vehicle that four other men were traveling with them and one of them was the same man she saw before—Rick or something—she heard Gael call him earlier. The men were in casual clothes, but she figured that they were probably his bodyguards; he never bothered to introduce them to her. The men also avoided looking at her and kept their gaze straight apart from the occasional check to the side.

On their way to the airport, Gael's phone rang, and he conversed with someone in Italian. Angela did not understand a thing, making her feel a little left out, wishing that she had taken Italian instead of French in college—even her French sucked. She was able to pick up a couple of Italian words that sounded slightly similar to French, however, she still couldn't understand anything, so she brushed it off and just closed her eyes.

When they reached the tarmac of Hillberry Isle Airport, her heart started to feel heavy. The sky was pitch-black, yet she didn't feel scared at all. For the past five days that she had spent on the island, she originally thought that she was dying to go home. Now, she suddenly felt like she was leaving home.

"You coming?" Gael asked, his hand extending towards her.

Angela took a deep breath and took his hand, allowing him to usher her towards his private plane.

The interior was classy and luxurious in black and white. She had flown in private planes before, but this was easily her favorite right off the bat. The cockpit was to her left when they boarded, and then he brought her deeper inside, walking past four business class seats where the other men sat. They reached a lounge area where a T.V. was set in front of a tufted white sofa.

"If you want to lie down, there's a bed behind that door," said Gael, nodding at the area a couple of meters away from them, then he removed his suit jacket and hung it on the armrest of the sofa.

Angela shook her head and smiled. "I'm good here."

Sitting next to each other, they buckled up and waited until the plane took off. Soon, they were in the air and on the way to Mayne City, Esmea. She didn't like flying so much, and she didn't think she'd hate this particular flight as well. However, she didn't want to admit the real reason why she hated it.

When it was safe to unbuckle their seatbelts, Angela immediately removed hers, swung her legs up the sofa, and then wordlessly leaned her back against his arm. 'Screw it,' she thought. 'This would be our last hours together. Might as well enjoy his warmth.'

Surprised at her movements, Gael paused for a second before he naturally shifted diagonally and snaked his arm around her waist so that she was resting against his chest comfortably.

"Rest. I'll wake you up when we land," he whispered above her head and placed a kiss on her hair. She didn't respond, yet he was fully aware that she wasn't sleeping at all. He wanted to tell her something—two different things: "wait for me" and "forget about me". 

At this point, he didn't know what he should tell her because he knew that either of the two would be so selfish. So wrong. Which was why he chose not to say anything more. Suppressing a sigh, he closed his eyes and tightened his arm around her. This was definitely his least favorite trip.

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