Deliver Her from Evil

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Deliver Her from Evil Page 8

by M. L. Steinbrunn


  “Tell me, love” he whispers into my neck.

  Without hesitation, I give in to his request. “You were right; I’m a liar,” I murmur.

  He pulls away, perplexed by my response. He focuses every bit of his attention on my eyes, searching them for an answer. He looks as though he could swallow me whole, taking every bit of my fear, shame, sin, and lack of confidence with each delicious lick. Eluding his advances is no longer an option, nor would I want it to be.

  “I want you to show me the truth,” I say with a knowing smile. His understanding snaps into place with a grin before he smashes his lips onto mine. Without contemplating the consequences or the implications of our relationship, we blissfully drown into each other. His mouth and hands bring my body to life, and I attempt to match him with equal vigor.

  “Hmm, excuse me, are you finished with the elevator?” I hear a gentleman ask after he clears his throat.

  Lakin and I break apart and I stifle a laugh into his shoulder when I notice that not only have the elevator doors opened again on the ground floor of the lobby, but a middle-aged couple were witness to some, or possibly most, of our elevator make-out session.

  “Sorry, sir. I thought I had punched the button,” he says as he presses the button for his floor. “Have a lovely evening,” he adds as the doors close.

  Immediately we both burst out laughing. “How embarrassing,” I giggle.

  “Just a tad,” he laughs. “At least you get to leave and save yourself from any future humiliation. I pass that guy every morning on my way to work.”

  The doors once again slide open and we step into the hallway to his apartment. Lakin laces his fingers with mine, kisses my knuckles, and pulls me to his front door. “I’ll gladly accept every ounce of embarrassment if it means I get to kiss you again,” he says before opening the door for me.

  I’ve been to his loft several times, but it feels different now. Although we’ve allowed ourselves to dive into a forbidden realm, the tension is no less palpable. I’m unsure of how to proceed. I don’t know how to behave around him or what to say. My insecurities heighten now that there’s something different on the table for us. My hands start to get clammy and I fidget to calm my nerves, which have my stomach doing flip-flops.

  Lakin notices my discomfort and pulls me to him. “Relax, it’s just me. It’s the same old us.” He lightly lands a kiss on my temple and I melt into his arms. The anxiety evaporates and all I feel is ease.

  I nod and he squeezes my hand once more.

  “Now, are you hungry? I was bringing you dinner and cake for your birthday, but it ended up in the trash and all over the lobby floor. Remind me to tip the super a little extra this year for having to clean that frosting mess up,” he says mindlessly as he moves into the kitchen.

  He opens the fridge and rattles off a few of the options he has, which isn’t much. Actually, it’s rather pathetic what his fridge and cupboards contain. “I thought you were Mr. Kung Fu? Aren’t you supposed to have a well-stocked kitchen with plenty of protein and carbs for training days or something?” I tease.

  “Hey now. You ladies have granny-panty laundry day; I’m allowed to have take-out grocery day,” he defends, pulling a stack of take-out menus from a drawer and throwing them on the granite countertop.

  “Anything that delivers is fine with me; I’m starving.” My stomach grumbles in confirmation and Lakin laughs.

  “The sooner the better, I suppose as well.”

  He snatches his cell phone from the pocket of his athletic jacket and dials the number to a pizza place nearby. I take the opportunity to stroll around his apartment and evaluate his place a little more in depth than I cared to before.

  I’m surprised at how comfortable his apartment is. It’s sleek and modern, but not so minimal that it feels cold. It’s the exact opposite, actually. The black and white photography of historical buildings and parks strategically mixed in with family photos give off an element of sophistication while still maintaining that homey allure. The splashes of color against a grey base color scheme screams interior decorator.

  It doesn’t shock me that he would spend the money or time on professional help with his space. Lakin is a man who enjoys the finer things in life and has the bank account to indulge those compulsions. Designer suits, prestigious universities, country clubs, and rubbing shoulders with industry leaders are in his blood. It’s no wonder he would seek outlets like jujitsu to relieve the pressure of his life. I’m not sure where I’ll fit into that life. The girl from foster care with vintage t-shirts, who prefers vinyl records to digital downloads, and manages bands doesn’t exactly exemplify that trophy wife image.

  His arms snake around my waist and pulls my body to his chest. “What’s rolling around in that head of yours?” he asks playfully as he kisses my neck. “I’ve found that to be a dangerous place to be.”

  I turn in his arms and wrap my arms around his shoulders. “What do you see when you look at me?”

  “I’m not sure I want to answer that question. It feels like a trick.” A serious tone laces his voice, all playfulness is absent from his delivery. I scowl, so he continues his explanation. “No matter how I answer, Campbell, I don’t think it will be what you’re looking for.”

  He’s right.

  My mind is attempting to force my heart into believing he and I are an impossibility. No matter how he answered, I would find a way to discredit our predicament. For all the advice I offer so freely to others, I struggle to follow it myself.

  “I just need to know that you’re sure,” I try to explain.

  He rubs his hands lightly up and down my back. Sneaking under my shirt, he traces lines and swirl patterns with his fingertips on my skin, lighting it ablaze. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Campbell,” he whispers into my ear. “Now that I have you, I don’t plan on ever letting you go. So prepare that mind of yours to stop overthinking everything.”

  He kisses my forehead, prompting my eyes to close, savoring the closeness. “Okay,” I murmur. “I’m done fighting. If you’re here, I’m here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you, love.” He leans in and kisses me carefully. Instead of the passion and fire of the elevator, his stature is now the epitome of tenderness and care. He’s speaking to my heart, and it is absolutely listening. I’m in so deep; I’m not sure how I could ever really backpedal from this, from him.

  A knock at the door interrupts us. “You have got to be kidding me,” Lakin groans. “I don’t think we will ever catch a break.”

  I give him a chaste peck on the lips and push him toward the door to pay for our dinner. He reluctantly leaves my side and I find a spot on the couch.

  When he returns holding the pizza, soda, and cake, he nods toward his bedroom. “Grab a blanket from the closet, let’s go have a picnic.”

  I hop up and throw the large fleece blanket draped across the back of the couch around my arm and follow him to his room. I spread it out on the hardwood floor and he places all of the food items on the blanket. “Wait here, I’ll go get some plates and napkins,” he says as I open the lid and allow the delicious aroma of sweet marinara sauce and mozzarella cheese to fill the air. I wave him off as I grab a slice and stuff the first magical bite into my mouth.

  Lakin

  I move as quickly as I can, grabbing anything I think we may need for our picnic. I don’t want to waste a single second with Campbell, now that I finally have her tangled in my web. If I can at all help it, I never want to let this girl go.

  I pause in the doorway when I return and just enjoy the scenery. This girl I’m smitten with has already made herself at home by starting a movie and sprawling out on the blanket. She giggles with each comedic scene and I’m enthralled by the beauty before me.

  A small chuckle escapes my lips and she turns to find me spying on her. “You better hurry and get over here or I can’t promise how much pizza will be left for you,” she says, patting the floor beside her.

>   I pull the cake I ordered out of the bag and place it in front of her. “I’m not worried. I’m saving space for dessert,” I tell her with a smile. Her eyes widen in disbelief and she immediately sits up and crosses her legs to examine the confessionary creation.

  “You got me a birthday cake?” she asks, her fingers lightly touching the plastic lid.

  “I originally got you cupcakes, but those ended up on the lobby floor. This was plan B.” I remove the lid and stick a candle in the center. It doesn’t even have her name on it, but it’s still a cake, so I figure the thought counts for at least something. “Sorry it’s not much,” I add.

  Her eyes instantly flash to mine, holding me ransom. “It’s everything,” she says. Her eyes filling with tears, she smiles to distract herself from the emotion.

  I lean in and light the candle before kissing her cheek. “I will give you everything, Campbell. All you have to do is wish for it,” I whisper into her ear.

  I pull away and scoot the cake closer to her, motioning for her to blow out the candle. She takes her time, contemplating her options before finally closing her eyes and lightly blowing out the candle. A grin hits her lips before she even opens her eyes again, and my heart swells knowing that my simple act put that smile in place.

  “Happy birthday, Campbell.”

  “Thank you, Lakin. For everything, thank you.”

  I nod and dip my finger in the silky chocolate frosting. Playfully holding up my finger, I offer it to her and she hesitates before taking my finger into her mouth. The appreciative sigh escaping her mouth makes my body hyperaware. I’ve been holding back for so long, now that I have the go ahead, I find it excruciating to restrain myself. I want to devour her, but I know being too forward will only scare her away.

  Her taste buds tickle the pad of my finger, and my mind dances thinking about what it would feel like to have that tongue wrapped around other areas. I’ve had women–who am I fucking kidding? I’ve had a lot of women–but I have never wanted any of them as much as I want Campbell. I have never wanted anything more than meaningless sex with any of them, but with Cam, I want more. I want to give more, take more. I want it all.

  She finally releases my finger and I use my thumb to rub the remnants of chocolate off her bottom lip as my palm rests on her cheek. Before I can talk myself out of it once again, I lean in and replace my thumb with my lips.

  She tastes divine, but I proceed lightly, delicately cradling her face in my hands as I kiss her silky lips. She pulls away with a smile and reaches up, removing the ponytail holder from her hair. Her ebony locks fall down in waves beyond her shoulders, and I lose whatever resolve I once had…but so does she.

  We both rise up onto our knees and crash together in the middle of the blanket. My fingers tangle into her hair and she wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me to her. It’s a feverish frenzy of kissing and tugging at clothing, each of us stripping the other bare. It’s a year’s worth of attraction, a year’s worth of yearning, spilling out into the best moment I’ve ever experienced.

  I wind my arms around her and pick her up. “Bed,” I say between kisses. “I need you in my bed.” She nods and wraps her legs around my waist.

  “I’ve waited so long for you, Cam. You know I’m never letting go, right?” I murmur as I carry her to my bed, nibbling on her neck.

  “Then hang on,” she says coyly. Her words float in the air, spurring me on further.

  I lay her across the white blankets on my bed and take a moment to appreciate her beautifully naked body. I want to burn every curve, every freckle into memory. She reaches for the blanket to cover up, uncomfortable with my stare.

  “No, Cam, don’t. You’re gorgeous, love. I just want to see you, appreciate you.”

  Clearly nervous, she takes a deep breath and fixes the rumpled duvet.

  I crawl up the bed and cover her body with my own; her skin against mine feels amazing. “Let me show you,” I say, searching her eyes, reassuring her of my feelings.

  Her hand snakes into my hair and cups the back of my neck, pulling me down to her. Her eyes never lose their hold on mine. “Show me then,” she whispers.

  I smash my lips to hers, my hands exploring the curves I adore.

  Slowly, I sink into a bliss I’ve never known.

  Baring my soul, I wedge myself into the heart of the only woman I’ve ever wanted to hold forever.

  We find oblivion in something neither of us have ever had, nor wanted…until now.

  Lakin

  “You know, I never got to eat my birthday cake,” Campbell says as she lackadaisically swirls her fingernails across my chest. Our bodies are tangled and twisted together, the blankets and sheets in complete disarray.

  “That’s not true. I distinctly remember you tasting the frosting. Besides, sex is always better than cake.”

  She rises up from my shoulder. “Blasphemy,” she declares.

  “Okay, how about sex with me is always better?” I chuckle and she nestles back into the crook of my shoulder.

  “Oh shit, I forgot your birthday present,” I exclaim, bouncing Campbell from our comfortable cocoon as I struggle to get out of the bed.

  “I think you and the cake were present enough, Mr. Ryan,” she jokes, wrapping a sheet around her body.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say excitedly as I pull my boxers briefs on and dash out of the bedroom in search of her gift. I had it in my jacket pocket earlier tonight, but locating the jacket proves difficult. I let out a sigh of relief when I reach into the pocket and brush my fingers along the edges of the box. Now that I can truly call Campbell mine, this present takes on a whole new meaning. I’m so glad I took the risk to buy it.

  I race back to my bedroom and playfully hop onto my bed next to Campbell. “You’re ridiculous,” she laughs before kissing her fingertips and touching them to my cheek.

  When she attempts to pull her hand back, I grab her wrist and bring her fingers to my mouth, kissing the pads of her tiny fingers. “Close your eyes,” I tell her.

  She hesitantly complies and I turn her hand over, palm up. I place the small box wrapped in shiny blue paper with a black bow in her hand and scoot back on the bed.

  “Okay, open your eyes,” I tell her once I’ve given her a little space.

  “Blue.” She grins. “Did you wrap it yourself?” she asks.

  “I know it’s your favorite,” I say. “I have to admit, though, I went through a whole roll trying to wrap it. I now know why I have all Christmas presents gift wrapped at the stores; wrapping is a bitch.”

  She giggles. “Well, I appreciate the thought. I know I haven’t received a lot of gifts in my life, but I would say you nailed the wrapping job.”

  “I wasn’t going to let someone else package this, nor any other future gifts for you, Cam. Let this be the first of many, love,” I tell her, encouraging her to finally open the present.

  My excitement is willing her to just tear it open, but she does no such thing. She slides her finger under the tape and lightly separates the paper, careful not to tear it. She folds the paper and lays it gently on the bed, like she would use it for some future gift.

  Her eyes widen when she uncovers the square jewelry box. She immediately looks to me and fumbles to say anything coherent.

  “Simmer down, Cam,” I laugh. “I’m young and in love, but I’m not stupid. I get that marriage is off the table. Just open it.”

  She relaxes at my words and snaps open the box. Immediately she frowns, misunderstanding the pendant that lies inside.

  I take it from the box and hold the gold circle in my hand. She snaps the box shut and places it next to the paper.

  “This is a love token. Women used to send their soldiers to war with a token of their love around their necks. It was usually a coin that had a hole in it. It was a reminder that no matter what they faced, not to forget the comfort of the love they had at home. So, I had this one designed for us.”

  “Am I going somewhere?” she asks hesi
tantly.

  “You’ve already been to war, Campbell. That necklace you wear now is a reminder of that. This one is different.”

  She protectively grips the flower necklace that hangs from her neck. I’ve never seen her without the necklace; I’m aware of its value to her. She’s told me a foster parent, Sharon, gave it to her, and although she’s shared little else about it, I understand its significance.

  I show her the same flower engraved into the white gold pendant. “It’s always important to remember where we come from, even if it’s painful to think about,” I explain, rubbing my finger across the forget-me-not on the medallion. “But this,” I say turning the token over to reveal the words inscribed, “is the promise of your future.”

  “What does it say?” she asks, taking the token from me and examining the Irish words etched into the metal. Both of our last names are derived from Irish and English origins dating back to the Norman Conquest of 1066. So I thought it fitting that Gaelic be used on her gift to reflect the words that connect us.

  “Forget me not, my love,” I tell her. “These words, this token, is your past, your present, and hopefully a future with me. I’ve wanted to be with you since the night I met you at the bar with Brooks, and I have never been able to untangle myself from your web. I know I’m not the relationship guy. I realize I’m a risk, and I absolutely know that you’re scared of what attachments could do to your heart. I’m not asking you to wear it right now; honestly, I don’t want you to. When you’re ready to take a more permanent leap with me, that’s when I’d like to see it around your neck.”

  Her eyes move from mine and fixate on the token, no doubt mulling over my explanation. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Campbell, I–”

  “No, let me get this out,” she interrupts, before bowing her head, hiding her eyes from me. “I don’t share with people about how I grew up; I don’t want people to think that where I came from is all there is to me.”

  She pauses and I reach for her, grabbing her hand to thread our fingers together.

 

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