Paradise Fought: Abel

by L. B. Dunbar

  Lucie and I reached a table filled with books and papers, a laptop, and an explosion of pens that were spread everywhere. Before me sat a gorgeous woman, with chestnut hair and deep blue eyes which pierced me to the core, behind red framed glasses. Elma sucked the air out of me with her beauty, but this girl definitely took my breath away at first glance. She stared at me, a quizzical look on her face, while I gawked back at her.

  “Sofie, this is the guy I was telling you about. The one that was asking about you,” Lucie said as way of introduction.

  Sofie stiffened in her seat.

  “Abel Callahan,” I said reaching across the table for her hand. She didn’t raise hers to shake mine. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at me. After an awkward moment, she blinked and methodically raised her hand to return my handshake. Her touch was delicate, instantly soothing. A strange sensation filled me at the connection. Sofie’s contact whispered comfort. It was my turn for confusion as we released hands.

  I didn’t mention Cain. She didn’t ask about him, but surely she had to know who I was if she knew him. Whatever was between Sofie and Cain had to be one-sided, though, as she made no mention of him. She was definitely not the type to go for him. Honestly, she wasn’t the type he went for either. I couldn’t figure out what the attraction would be. Before me sat an intelligent woman in red glasses, who seemed soft while Cain was hard. I remembered he said she was going to medical school. She had the look of a future doctor. Her presence spoke, Everything will be okay. I’d never felt anything like it before.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said. Even the tone of her voice was ease.

  “Abel might need some help with the dreaded human anatomy project,” Lucie droned, rolling her eyes.

  “Yikes, that project can be tough. Let Lucie know what you need or you can email me,” she said, scribbling her address on a piece of paper. Ripping it out of her notebook, she handed it to me. “I’d love to help out.” She was kind and good, too good. I couldn’t see how she would have anything to do with someone like Cain.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. Sofie’s eyes still held mine. It was as if she was waiting for me to say something more, but I was speechless.

  “Well, I’ll let you ladies get back to work,” I said. I turned to Lucie, “And sorry about those girls near the stacks. There might be a rumor now that we were making out or something back there.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her in jest.

  “That’s a rumor I wouldn’t mind,” she laughed softly, then turned bright red.

  “Nice to meet you, Sofie,” I said with a wave before I turned to walk away. I hadn’t gotten too far away when I heard that kind tone mutter, “He’s charming, just like his brother.”

  That night Elma sat on my bedroom floor amidst her own collection of markers, paper, and an open laptop. She looked comfortable in my space, and although I wasn’t one to share, I liked having her in my room. I’d had my own room as a kid and treasured the distance it allowed me from my family. It was my private chamber of peace and tranquility. It was also the place I could let out my own aggression without risk of retaliation. I’d fight my reflection in the mirror, berating myself for allowing Cain to take a beating for me.

  Elma smiled up at me slowly, and the awkwardness of the night before dissipated. We went to bed quietly last night. She was turned away from me, and when I touched her back, she flinched. I was worried that she was having second thoughts about what we’d done and removed my hand. By morning she had scooted into me, and I encircled her like we’d done before. My body wanted her, but I didn’t rut against her like I had done when I’d embarrassed myself the first time. I pulled back before she woke and took relief in a shower.

  I sat on the edge of my bed as she explained to me what she was working on. Pink ribbon was strewn over her lap and frilly images of dancers graced her laptop. I was losing focus on what she described for the website and the program flyer. I had visions of tickling her body with the pink ribbon, wrapping her up, and then untying her. I wanted to know why she lied about her sexual history, and the words popped out of my mouth.

  “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  Blue eyes blinked up at mine.

  “Truth? About what?”

  I clasped my hands between my knees as I bent forward. Elma still looked up at me innocently from where she sat on the floor, and my mind envisioned her crawling on her knees to come suck me. I shook my head.

  “About sex? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Her eyes pinched in that Elma way as she glared at me.

  “Oh, what was I supposed to say? You want to hire me to teach you sex but I have no experience.”

  “Yes,” I paused. “And I didn’t hire you for sex anyway, remember?”

  “Oh right. Dating,” she muttered, looking back at her computer screen. She wasn’t focusing on it, though.

  “I still need to learn. What to do? How to act?”

  “Abel,” she exhaled, closing her eyes to the screen before her. A hand covered her face for a moment then wiped down her delicate nose.

  “Abel, you don’t need me for that. You’ve already asked me out on a date. We’ve done things people dating would do. You’re fine at this stuff.”

  I stared down at her, but she still wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes opened wide and then she blinked several times. Her face was a blank stare.

  “Elma, look at me.”

  Slowly, her head turned. Liquid filled eyes met mine. If I didn’t know better, she looked like she might cry.

  “What’s wrong?” I demanded softly.

  “Nothing,” she muttered, smiling weakly at me.

  “Elma, come here,” I commanded. I continued to stare at her, puzzled by the expression on her face. To my surprise, she uncrossed her legs and stood. She stepped over to me, and I reached for her hands, cupping them in mine. I pulled them up to my lips without thinking. When I looked up at her, a tear slipped down her cheek.

  “What’s wrong, my rúnsearc? Are you sorry about last night?” She was starting to scare me with the way she looked at me. Something was clearly bothering her.

  “It’s nothing. I can’t say.” She pulled a hand from mine and swiped at her face. She smiled falsely at me again and I stood. The movement was quick and it forced my body to drag up hers. I still held her hand, forcing her to remain close to me. Elma sucked in a breath. I sensed the increase in her heart rate as her chest lowered and fell against mine. Her breasts were crushed against me.

  “Tell me,” I demanded again, wiping at the spot where her tear had trailed. She shook her head, but I stilled the motion as I gently cupped under her chin. Blue eyes looked up at me.

  “It’s so stupid,” she whispered. I was leaning in to kiss her, to assure her whatever she thought wasn’t dumb. “I want to do it again.”

  My voice was hardly above a whisper. I wasn’t sure he’d heard me or that the words actually came out my mouth, but Abel stopped his lips a hair’s breadth away from mine. He was so close, I could taste his breath mingling with mine, and yet I wanted to taste him, his lips, his skin, his everything with my mouth.

  “What?” he questioned, without pulling back from me. We remained still, frozen in position, that tempting moment before a kiss. The anticipation was a flood of excitement, and I was instantly damp below. I was ready for Abel to take me again, and that’s what I longed for. I’d been thinking of nothing but him all day. How he felt inside me. What he said as he moved over me. How he looked at me. I selfishly wanted to experience it all again.

  I didn’t have time to answer his question before lips stroked over mine. I was too electrified to be slow. My mouth opened instantly for his tongue, beckoning his to enter and touch mine. I wanted him inside me again. The brush of his tongue against mine lit the spark, but it wasn’t going to be enough. My hips shot forward in desperate desire of connection. I needed to feel Abel between my legs. Without thought, I climbed him. I used my arms around his neck to leverage myself up his body. Wrapping my legs aroun
d him, the force knocked us back and we tumbled to his bed.

  “Oof,” came out of both of us as I fell onto him. Abel laughed under me. It did nothing to calm my frenzy. I needed him inside me. A desperation I’d never known was controlling my body. I moved over him in a way that my center covered the large bulge in his track pants. I practically purred at the connection, and I dragged myself down the length of him. My back arched and my breasts pressed against him as well.

  “Elma,” he choked. His hands gently rested on my hips. The sound in his voice proved his hesitancy. I didn’t understand what was holding him back from gripping my sides and forcing me to move over him. Then it hit me. Abel had experience in this area, not me.

  “You don’t want me.” I stilled. The tears were building again. It was the silliest thing that had ever happened to me. I craved him so badly; I was ready to cry about it.

  His hands did grip me at my words.

  “Want you?” he chuckled under me. “I more than want you. I just want you to be sure you want to do this again. With me.”

  My mouth came down on his, my body curling into him. I forced my breasts against his chest, pressed my center against the length of him. Want him? There wasn’t a word to describe what I felt for him.

  Abel didn’t respond in words. He took control to grind me against him then flipped us, so he towered over me again. He moved from my lips and lowered his body. I cried out in frustration. I didn’t want to break from rubbing against him. His hands gripped the edge of my yoga pants and he yanked them down with enough force it jostled me. His mouth continued its descent, not losing the pattern he was drawing with his lips over my skin, which prickled with excitement. He rubbed his nose through the mound of hair that capped the apex of my legs and I flinched. No one had ever been down there so intimately before.

  He breathed against me then blew air across sensitive folds, anxious for a physical connection.

  “Ever do this before, Elma?” he said directly between my legs. My eyes were focused on the ceiling as my heart raced. I shook my head then realized he wasn’t looking at me. He was practically examining me down below and my voice shakily responded, “No.”

  “Me either,” he said, still trained on my most private parts. A finger dragged deliberately through skin, damp and slick with need. His words startled me and I lifted my head slightly to gaze at him. He couldn’t be serious. He told me last night. He’d been with tons of prostitutes.

  “Never had interest in putting my mouth where hundreds of other men had been,” he answered without me asking, then blew against me as a finger delved through the folds. The tingle through my body was uncontrollable. My legs began to shake.

  “No mouth has ever been there,” I choked quietly. “I haven’t had anyone…”

  I couldn’t finish because his lips clamped over me and I bucked off the bed. My fingers slipped into his dark hair, then gripped it hard to hold him in place. My knees fell to the sides as the flat of his tongue spread over me. I bucked again, and his hands came up to hold my thighs still. His tongue worked like I was his new favorite flavor. He swirled and sucked. He bit gently and savored. I saw silver stars dance over me, and my eyes rolled back as I crashed against his warm seduction. I might have tugged his hair a bit hard as I tipped my hips to encourage him to continue. Instantly, I was ready again.

  His lips released me and I whimpered. I was still on edge, but Abel seemed to know this about my body.

  “This time we go together,” he said in the most seductive voice I’d ever heard. It was demanding and gentle at the same time, and in that moment, I would have done anything he asked. While he fumbled to slip down his track pants, my knees drew together. The desire to rub my thighs and keep the friction was intense.

  “No,” he commanded, pressing down on one knee as he pushed at his pants. His eyes were still staring at what had to be swollen folds, weeping with desire. He pinned me, and I was suddenly the organism of examination in human anatomy. Abel watched as he split me open. I didn’t cry out in pain, like I had the night before. I melted into the bed below me. My knees had an opposite sensation as he pushed forward to fill me. No longer attracted together, they fell apart and opened wide to draw him into me.

  We weren’t under darkness, like we’d been the night before. In fact, between the aquarium light, the bedside lamp, and an overhead light, we were practically on stage. This only provided Abel with more focus to observe as he dipped into me then withdrew. His concentration on the connection between us only fueled the fire inside me. The only wave that could put out that heat was building in rapid rhythm with the increased pace of his entrance inside me. I watched Abel watch us, until I couldn’t any longer. My head fell back. My hips jutted forward, and I stilled as I washed over him. He paused to feel the tidal wave crash and pulse over him. I could sense his eyes on me, but I had looked away, lost in the euphoria of another orgasm.

  “Elma,” he spoke, and I turned to him as if he commanded me. Instantly, he pulled back and rammed into me. This time, I watched the show as I focused on the strain in his face while he hammered into me. He balanced over me, like a push-up, like this was the greatest workout Abel Callahan ever had. A vein stood out along his arm and neck. His beating rhythm to fill me had to be twice his heart rate, and then he stopped. I clenched around him as the pulsing beats inside me brought those aftershocks again. I bit my lip to hold the praise to heavens that I wanted to sing out.

  Abel collapsed over me. Kissing my neck tenderly, his hand slipped up my side and over a breast to cover my neck.

  “Your heart beat matches mine,” he breathed against skin damp from desire. While the rapid pace matched his, I wasn’t sure we beat in time with emotion. I knew what I felt for him. Abel Callahan just won the fight to own my heart.

  I was scheduled to work in the evening, but I longed to see my mother. It had been a few days since the incident in her apartment, and I was moving out. I only wanted a few things I’d left behind. I should have brought Abel with me, but he had already done so much for me. He insisted I stay at his apartment over the break, knowing Lindee was going home. She wanted me to go to her parents with her, but I couldn’t go back. Being in Vegas again would only stir up memories of what we’d lost. I needed to focus forward, and that meant no longer looking behind.

  I had the plans to move in with Lindee and her roommates. I just wanted to collect my belongings from the apartment. Secretly, I desired to check on my mom. I didn’t feel right leaving her without her seeming partially coherent of my desertion. That’s what I felt, like I was deserting her, but she had left me behind so long ago. I couldn’t dwell on that either. After disappearing the other night without a word, I’d called and left messages. It was only a half-truth, what I told her. I said I’d be staying at Lindee’s, which would happen in the future. Currently, I was staying at Abel’s for a week, and I didn’t wish to share that information.

  I felt guilty to have the private happiness of Abel. In my heart, and in his bed, there was a sense of forbidden paradise. A secret excitement I didn’t deserve yet wasn’t willing to give up. Abel was a good man, a fulfilling lover, and a true friend. He had taken me in, protected me, and loved me. I couldn’t be certain of the last one, but he was paying me attention that seemed like a lover would shower on a loved one. He’d brought me fresh meadow-looking flowers the morning after our first night. He simply said, “For giving me something special to you.” Then he didn’t mention anything more. It was touching. It was romantic. Once again, I was reminded that Abel didn’t really need training in how to woo a girl.

  Entering the shabby place of my mother’s, I shivered at the memories. It was so different from Abel’s clean, sparse townhome, even less spacious than the apartment of Lindee’s. The place was a sty. Alcohol bottles covered the counter. Dishes stacked precariously, ready to tumble and break. The floor was sticky in the kitchen. I entered my mother’s room to find her alone, thankfully, but laying there looking used. Her dirty blonde hair tu
mbled over her head. Her bare back exposed. A trashcan stood next to the side of the bed. The smell of vomit filled the room. I gagged as I followed my pattern of removing the bag inside the can and placing it inside the kitchen bin.

  I decided my final act of kindness would be to clean the place. I cleared garbage, washed surfaces, and scrubbed the bathroom. I entered my room with two garbage bags and tugged bedding off the mattress. It was therapeutic to fold the items and shove them inside the black plastic. I would wash it fresh in the apartment’s laundry. I would start anew. I found a suitcase for my clothes. Filled a box with the few items I had after our move from Vegas. Journals, awards, report cards were things that seemed silly but necessary to keep as we emptied our house and dismantled our lives.

  I had made several trips to the garbage and to my small car that was now filled like a homeless person when it hit me; I was homeless. I reentered the place to make one more attempt to rouse my mother.

  “Momma, I’m leaving,” I said, as I brushed back her hair. She lay facing the door, rolling as I worked around her to empty the trash, pick up her clothes, and crack a window for fresh summer air. I pulled the sheet up over her, like she was the child.

  “I love you, Momma, but I can’t stay here any longer.”

  “Love you, too, Montana,” she mumbled. My heart dropped to my stomach as I removed my hand.

  “It’s Elma, Momma. I’m leaving,” I said a little firmer, determined that she recognize me.

  “Have fun,” she muttered in reply. I stood from my crouched position then stared down at her. How did my life get like this? Despite my hurt, I still bent forward and kissed her forehead, as she had done to me when I was a child. I sighed heavily and pushed away the tears on my cheek.

  “Bye, Momma,” I exhaled softly then turned to leave.