Heavenly Bodies-Excerpt

Samantha Beasley never expected Saint Peter to be hot.

Well, to be fair, Sam wasn’t sure if this guy was actually the Saint Peter, but the fact that he was standing outside the pearly gates greeting people made her think he could be Saint Peter. In all her imaginings, she’d never pictured him as a black-haired, chocolate-eyed epitome of masculinity. Her mouth became dry just looking at him.

She tapped her foot and tried to look away from his blinding beauty as she waited for her turn in front of the angel of hotness.

Unbidden, her gaze was drawn back to him. God, the man was beautiful. He smiled at a woman in line ahead of her and Sam thought she -- and the other woman -- would surely go up in flames at any moment. Was it suddenly hot up here, or was it just Saint Peter?

Sam tapped her foot again and belatedly realized she wasn’t meeting much resistance. She looked down. What the hell? Was she really floating on a cloud? And here she’d thought the whole clouds and angels thing was a bunch of bullshit.

“You might want to watch your language, Samantha.”

She started at the deep masculine voice and found herself at the beginning of the line. She looked up into the deep brown eyes of the angel of hotness and felt her stomach flutter. Could she go to hell for being aroused by a heavenly being?

He smirked.

“I’m sorry. Did I speak out loud?” Her voice actually sounded somewhat normal, all things considered.

His smirk widened into a smile. “Not exactly.”

Sam folded her arms across the ample bosom that had been the bane of her existence since the age of eleven. If this really was heaven, maybe she could talk the angel of hotness into dropping her from a size twenty to a size two.

“This is heaven, Samantha. We accept people as they are. No changes.”

“Well, hell.”

He raised a black eyebrow. “I could send you there if you wanted.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I think I’ll pass.”

He crossed sinewy arms over his broad chest, which was shockingly bare. Who knew angels ran around topless in heaven? “Do you know why you’re here, Samantha?”

“Well, I’m guessing I must have died at some point.”

She swore he rolled his eyes. Were angels allowed to do that?

“Do you remember how you died?”

She propped her hands on her hips and tried to recall what had happened. “All I remember was making a chocolate milkshake.”

He nodded. “That’s right. You were using the blender. The blade wasn’t attached properly. The top popped off from the force, and the blade flew out. It sliced open your jugular.”

“I died making a milkshake?” Seriously?

“That would be correct.”

“I swear this shit only happens to me,” she muttered.

“Samantha, you really shouldn’t use that kind of language here.”

“Sorry. It’s just that in my line of work -- well, what used to be my line of work before my blender went homicidal on me -- blue language is…was…part and parcel of it all.”

“I’ve seen some of your stand-up shows, Samantha, and ‘blue language’ is probably an understatement.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’ve seen some of my routines? But how?”

“This is heaven. We always keep an eye on God’s children.”

“So you’re basically some sort of cosmic babysitter?” Angels really did spy on people? The thought was oddly creepy, yet arousing in an exhibitionistic sort of way.

He cleared his throat. “You could say that.”

“Then why did I die at twenty-eight, and the night before my first big headlining act at that?”

Really, the entire situation kind of pissed her off. She’d been at the top of her game, starting her first big headlining tour with an HBO special in the works. She owned her own home, had a brand new hybrid in the garage and a nice chunk of change in the bank. Not too shabby for a poor girl from central Texas.

And due to one small indulgence, it was all gone. I guess those antioxidants can only help so much.

The angel of hotness snorted. “At any rate, we here in heaven do agree that your death was a bit untimely.”

“Oh, goody. Does that mean I get a cookie?” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Actually, what would cookies in heaven taste like?

“Not exactly. It means you get a second chance.”

“A second chance? At life? Or the milkshake?”

He sighed. “I should have known you would be difficult, Samantha, although there is a certain amount of shock that goes along with dying. At any rate, you get a second chance at life.”

“Why do I have the feeling there’s a ‘but’ in there?”

“Because there is. You get a second chance only under one condition.”

“Please don’t tell me I have to give up sex. I can give up booze and cussing, but I refuse to give up sex.” Where had that come from? Damned man, standing there all bare-chested, muscular, and sexy, making her think about things she probably shouldn’t, considering her surroundings.

The angel of hotness cleared his throat again. “The stipulation is that I’ve been assigned to be your physical guardian. I’ve been instructed to accompany you to make sure you don’t have any more incidents and make it beyond your original time of death.”

“Are you serious? I’m literally going to have a guardian angel?”

“Looks like it.”

"But why me? And why you? I mean, is this a normal procedure up here?" More so, what were the rules regarding guardian angel/previously dead woman interaction?

“Not exactly. But we have been known to make exceptions when necessary.”

She breathed deeply and blew a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes. This was so freaking weird. And yet somehow exciting. “So when do we get this show on the road?”

********

Adam Rivera opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him. How long had it been since he’d seen an actual ceiling? While perpetually blue skies were a sight to behold, there was something to be said about a plain white, hard surface above him.

He felt the warm body beside him stir.

Samantha.

He barely stifled his groan.

Pete had one hell of a diabolical streak that was certain. Adam still wasn’t sure what the old guy had been thinking, saddling him with the blonde bundle of curves, but Adam was sure Pete’s latest idea was going to be the death of him.

Well, the redeath of him.

Samantha turned over in her sleep and flung an arm across his chest. Adam’s morning wood sprang even further to attention. Sweet Mary Mother of God, he wasn’t going to be able to do this.

The warm woman beside him snuggled closer, pressing her soft, full breasts against his side.

Harps. Think about harps.

Didn’t work. His penis was still hard as a rock and he felt ready to blow.

Mary Magdalene. Think about Mary.

His balls tightened and he winced. Bad choice, considering Mary Magdalene was pretty hot for an older woman.

Samantha’s warm breath blew across his chest. He didn’t know how much longer he could lay there without touching her, without claiming her mouth with his own and burying himself to the hilt inside of her.

It had been too long since he’d been with an actual living woman, almost five years to be exact. He’d been Samantha’s guardian angel that entire time, and for the past five years he’d watched the curvaceous, green-eyed blonde live her life, have sex -- both solo and with a partner -- and make crowds across the country laugh with her sarcastic, biting brand of humor.

He’d never expected to be attracted to his ward. In fact, he hadn’t known angels could even feel physical attraction for someone. He’d been surprised the first time he’d gotten hard while watching her pleasure herself. Her body had been bare, lying on top of the sheets. Alone, she’d let her inhibitions go, had given herself up to the pleasure of her hand between her thighs. Her breasts were rosy-tipped with large, round nipples, her belly curved, and her hips flared. She’d looked soft, warm, and sensual, the picture of feminine beauty.

Now that warm, soft body was pressed against him. He’d wondered how she would feel next to him, under him, on top of him. He knew from watching her that she was creative and enjoyed sex and trying new positions.

She murmured something in her sleep and snuggled closer to him. A hard nipple poked into his rib cage, and her hand drifted toward his belly button. Adam held his breath, waiting to see if her hand would move lower. He closed his eyes and exhaled. What would it feel like to have Samantha’s hand wrapped around his cock?

*****

Purchase