Birdy (Upper Echelon Duet Book 1)

want them to know me. Gael may be the one ordering them around and delegating work on a daily basis, pero yo soy la Jefa, and they'll do damn well to remember that.
“Ángel,” I moan, knowing I’m not going to get out of this bed if he’s still in it. “Wake up.”
But he doesn't. He doesn't stir at all.
Rolling toward him, I push up on an elbow and let my eyes sweep his form. The man is out like a light on his back, inked chest on full display. The white sheets are pooled at his waist and… And he's got his own tent.
I have to bite down on my lip.
Ángel, in his sleep, is another sight entirely. He’s too hard-lined to ever look truly boyish, but the serenity on his face gives off this sense of innocence.
Vulnerability.
My claws are ready to come out. Hell, I’m ready to pounce on him and have my way before he leaves tonight, but I don't think I can handle another round. After last night? Yeah, no…my pussy is beyond the point of abuse.
A kittenish smile tickles the corners of my mouth. He really made all too good on his promise. Hard and fast, slow and deliciously nasty, the man had me on the verge of passing out on more than one occasion.
Two months without him is going to be pure hell.
"Angel," I try again, scooting close enough to run a claw up his torso.
That gets him. He stirs gently at first, but on the second claw up, those stormy grays of his snap open. And when he sees me right there in his bubble, gazing down at him expectantly, he gives me that damned smile, one that widens all the more when he realizes I’m still very much naked beneath the sheets.
"Is it morning already?"
I nod. "Unfortunately."
Ángel stretches out every limb and belts out a mammoth, sleepy yawn. "What time is it?"
"Early as fuck." My less-than-enthused reply arches one of his dark brows.
“So, why are we awake, then?”
“‘Cause I’ve got shit to do.” I laugh, making way to roll out of bed, but I’m yanked backward and tucked under his arm before my feet even hit the carpet.
“Fuck that, Benni, it’s Sunday. Just stay in bed with me.”
Except we can’t. With a soft shake of my head, I push off his chest. "Can’t do that. You're leaving, remember?"
Wow.
Even I can hear the bitterness in my tone. I freeze right at the edge of the bed, eyes widening in surprise at how clear my susceptibility came through just now.
A tense wave of silence quickly clogs the room. It’s so stifling, I can’t bring myself to turn around and look him in the eye. With every painstaking minute that passes, I want to cringe a little more until finally, I hear the low timbre of his laugh.
“Ay, Benita, you’re funny, you know that?”
I’m...funny?
Brow arching, I risk a peek at him from over my shoulder. He’s clearly amused, smirking as he pushes up to sit and scoot up against my headboard. “And why is that?” I ask.
Ángel shrugs and motions toward me. “You made it clear last night that you don't want to come with me, yet in the same hand, you're mad that I'm leaving. So tell me…what is it you want? For me to stay here with you?"
"Did I say that?" I snap.
"No, but your actions, esa actitud que me diste ahora me lo dice todo."
My eyes nearly roll out of my head, arms crossing before my chest. "And what exactly did my attitude tell you?"
"Everything I already know. You want this, Benni. You want me…us…but you’re scared. I already told you I’d tell you everything, every little thing you want to know and more. I know I have to earn your trust, but you have to give me the opportunity to earn it first. Stop overthinking and jump in with me. This is all new for me, too, you know?"
Damn him. Damn him for always saying the things I want to hear, for making it harder to stick to a decision than it should be.
"Angel... Can we not do this right now?" I turn away again, rising onto my feet.
"When exactly do you want to do it, then, ‘cause we’ve been at it all weekend, going back and forth over and over again. The time has come, Benni…I'm leaving tonight, you know this."
"I'm…scared," I find myself admitting, squeezing my eyes shut now that the truth is out there in the open.
I sound so fucking stupid.
Ángel sighs, the bed squeaking as he rises to full height and ambles around to where I’m rooted in place. His hands gently claim my face, forcing my eyes to meet his. "Don't be afraid. You know more about me than you think you do."
My lips curl dubiously. "Somehow, I highly doubt that."
"You do,” he insists, “and I want you to know it all…want you to be mine."
"Why did you have to fall for me?" I whisper, throat bobbing through one hell of an emotionally-charged swallow.
Ángel’s lips spread in a faint smile. "Why did you have to make me fall for you?"
"I didn't do anything." And I really didn’t, other than agreeing to take what was a business relationship and mixing it with pleasure.
"Yeah, you did,” he counters, scoffing a little laugh and all. “Everything you did got me more and more caught up by the day. Then you went and gave me access to the best pussy I've had in my life, and well, that shit will seal a man’s fate. I think you had me before I had you."
My heart, that traitorous thing, melts into a puddle. With every word, every look, every touch, every kiss…it becomes harder and harder to say no to him.
To not jump in headfirst like he said and give this thing a shot. Because what can a good, solid shot hurt, right? If it doesn’t work, at least we tried.
"We have to go,” I insist.
Not that it flies, of course.
"Are you working