Power of Love

by Barabara Elsborg

  “That I couldn’t let him kill you, that I’d kill him.”

  “What with? You didn’t have a weapon.”

  “I had CS gas and my baton.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “Nowhere near close enough to use the gas canister and he’d have grabbed the baton out of your hand. You forgot everything you were trained to do. You rushed at him, knocking him into me.”

  “And you went over the side.” Her voice came out in a whisper.

  When she’d seen Joe tumble over the edge of the building, for several long moments Poppy’s heart ceased beating. It had been as if she’d been caught up in a freeze-frame in a movie. Life simply stopped. Joe was dead and she thought her life was over too, that she might as well throw herself after him. She’d taken the few steps to the edge and caught sight of his white fingers. Joe clung to the concrete rim, his face tight with strain and fear. He’d told her to grab his other arm, the one with the bullet wound.

  “I tried, Joe. I tried to pull you up.” She gulped huge breaths of air, as she had that terrible afternoon. “Buxton had run off and there wasn’t time to get Graham.”

  “You let me go.”

  Sadness overwhelmed her as she heard the condemnation in his voice.

  “Yes. I let you go.”

  “And I died.”

  Poppy shuddered. “I’d have done anything for that not to have happened. I tried, Joe. I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t say anything. After a moment, he leaned over and rested his forehead against hers before sighing and standing upright again.

  “So what are you now?” Poppy sipped her tea and stared at his wings.

  “Something called a seeker, a sort of probationary angel.” Joe gave a little shrug, his wings fluttered and he sneezed.

  Poppy jumped. “Bless you.”

  “Thank you.”

  An angel. So did that mean Joe was good and by default, she was bad? He was right and she was wrong? He’d go to heaven and she’d go to hell? Maybe she deserved it.

  Joe’s wings were beautiful. “Can I touch them?”

  His mouth twitched and he nodded. Poppy stood and ran her hands lightly over the tightly packed outer feathers. They felt smooth, hard and warm, almost like leather. Joe’s breathing had quickened and his cock grew thicker. Poppy slid her fingers underneath the wings and up his back to the point where they entered his body. She knew his body better than her own and touched sinew and muscle she’d never felt before. Joe trembled. His cock was erect now, the head growing dark as it filled with blood.

  Poppy looked at his face. Joe stared straight at her, his eyes the color of deep water. She brought her hands down to caress the soft as silk inner feathers, fuzzy interlocking quills that hung like drapes of shimmering gray lace. Poppy lowered her head and put her cheek against the pillowy down, brushed her face along the plumage and Joe gave a deep groan.

  He pulled her into his arms, encircling her with his wings, wrapping her in their warmth. Poppy was pinned between the gentle caress of feathers on her back and the pressure of Joe’s iron-hard erection against her stomach.

  “What does it feel like when I touch them?” she asked.

  “I think my happy cock has given you a big enough clue, PC Field. When you touch my wings, it’s like you’re stroking my dick.” Joe nuzzled her hair, and underneath the feathers his hands swept up the sides of her body.

  “How do you make them go in and out?” Poppy asked.

  He chuckled. “I have no idea. They seem to be deciding to do that on their own at the moment. Desiree said they’d sort themselves out.”

  “Desiree?”

  “She’s a sort of celestial guide, though she’s been crap so far. She turned up in my apartment this morning while I was trying to work out what the hell was happening.”

  “Is she ugly?”

  “Not as ugly as you,” Joe shot back.

  Poppy smiled. One of their little word games. Now she had another sort of game in mind and judging by the way his cock was insistently nudging her belly, so did Joe.

  “I’ve missed you, Joe,” she whispered. “Did you miss me?”

  Poppy wanted that question back as soon as she’d uttered it.

  “I’ve spent the last six months asleep while my body healed and I grew my wings but if I hadn’t been sleeping, I know I’d have missed you. You were all I could think about when I came around this morning. Well, that and what the fuck had I grown on my back. I had to come and see you, even though I didn’t think I’d be able to touch you. My hand went right through my next-door neighbor.”

  Poppy frowned. “What were you doing touching your next-door neighbor?”

  “Copping a feel.”

  “That would be copping a feel off seventy-five year old Mrs. Hanley with the droopy boobs?”

  “She told me she was twenty-seven,” Joe said in indignation.

  Poppy laughed her way along the silky edge of his collarbone, tasted salt as she worked her way down his chest. She let her tongue play around his quivering bellybutton before she kneeled in front of him and looked up.

  “Oh, Pop,” he groaned and stroked her cheek. “You look so fucking beautiful like that.”

  She’d always loved doing this for Joe but there was something different this time. Poppy felt compelled to make him happy, to make him forget—for a little while at least, maybe she could forget too.

  As she trailed her fingers over the sensitive skin behind his knees, her wet tongue traced the swollen vein running down the back of his cock. Poppy loved the dark, erotic taste of Joe, loved the sensation of her lips moving on hard muscle covered by silky skin. She rolled her lips over the glistening head before sliding her mouth down to engulf him. When she pulled back up, she gripped him more tightly between her lips so the skin of his cock smoothed out. Her hands slid to his thighs as she feather-kissed the tip of his erection. When she flicked her tongue back and forth across the little slit, Joe’s fingers dug into her hair and his breathing grew noisy.

  “Oh God, Poppy. That feels good. Keep doing that.”

  She licked, sucked and used the flat of her tongue to rub over the rosy crest of his dick until he was groaning. At the same time, she caressed the inside of his thighs, thrilling when muscles trembled under her fingers. Joe cantered his hips to press repeatedly into her mouth, and Poppy took as much of him as she could. She trusted Joe not to go too far, push too hard. Taking one hand from his thigh, she grasped the root of his shaft, pumping as she sucked and stared up at him.

  Poppy enjoyed making Joe lose control. He was always wired tighter than a violin string and when he broke, it was just as dramatic. His groans sent pulses of desire slamming through her. Twists of pleasure curled in her pussy and radiated out along her limbs. Each time her muscles clenched, a gush of her cream and Joe’s seed leaked to her thighs. Poppy reached for his balls with her other hand and teased them with the pads of her fingers then the tips of her nails, never too rough, but firm enough to make Joe gasp even louder. She increased the speed of her hand, working his cock, and as she felt his balls twitch, Poppy paused, her mouth gripping close to the head of his shaft and her hand squeezing hard and pulling down at the base.

  “Poppy! Oh fuck, fuck. You little…”

  She didn’t move. Joe wouldn’t be able to come until she released him. His fingers threaded through her hair and tugged—hard. Poppy flinched and Joe relaxed his grip. They hung in a tormenting limbo of heightening sensation as Poppy kept her fingers clenched around the root of his cock and began to lick him, letting him in and out of her mouth, mixing his pre-cum with her saliva until he was slick, hot and ready to burst.

  “Please, Poppy. I…need…oh shit.” Joe gasped for air, his breathing ragged and his grip on her hair tightened again.

  Poppy let him go and put her hands on his thighs as she lowered her mouth over his cock. Joe’s hands slipped to the back of her head as he rocked his hips forward. Poppy looked up and he stared down at her, his face taut with concentration. His
hips jerked and she swallowed hard as he shoved forward so that his cock moved even deeper into her mouth, deeper than she’d usually take him.

  Joe’s fingers shifted to her throat. He stroked her skin and Poppy knew he could feel himself inside her. She swallowed again and his cock rippled. Joe gave a gurgled groan and spurts of warm, creamy cum hit the back of her throat. Poppy thought for a moment she might choke, but he pulled back so she could breathe and swallow and she continued to suckle until the jetting spasms ceased.

  He went soft in her mouth before Poppy released him.

  “Oh God,” Joe groaned.

  When everything went dark, Poppy didn’t know what had happened for a moment, until she realized Joe had wrapped his wings around her as she knelt at his feet. The soft inner feathers tickled her back. He stroked her hair and face with such gentleness that a lump rose in her throat.

  Joe picked her up, carried her to the bed and lay beside her. One wing covered them both as he held her in his arms. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so safe and protected.

  “I forgive you,” Joe whispered.

  Poppy tried not to react, not to stiffen, but those three words fell like hammer blows, as if he’d reached into her chest, taken hold of her heart, dragged it out and stomped on it. She rolled over to hide her face in the pillow, unable to breathe. He’d just come in her mouth and now he said he forgave her. It made her feel cheap, as though she’d attempted to put everything right between them through sex. Poppy didn’t want his forgiveness. What she wanted was for him to say it wasn’t her fault, that it was a series of unfortunate events culminating in a terrible accident, that he loved her.

  The world didn’t stop turning, though for a moment she wished it had. Poppy managed a shaky inhalation. She no longer had to imagine Joe blaming her. Now she knew he did. His final moments as he fell were not ones in which he realized how much he loved her, but ones where he hated her for letting him go. Poppy knew Joe had issues with showing affection, but hadn’t realized how deep the problem went, that even in the seconds before death it hadn’t been love for her in his heart. All those poor people caught up in acts of terrorism, who knew they were going to die thought of their partners, children and parents. Text messages flew from planes about to hit buildings, from buildings about to collapse, from underneath buildings that had collapsed—words of love and sadness for those left behind, not hatred for those who’d killed them. Poppy had done the unforgivable and it didn’t matter that it was an accident. She’d loved him and she’d killed him. She bit the inside of her cheeks so hard, she tasted blood.

  “Have you hooked up with anyone?” he whispered into her shoulder, his breath raising goose bumps.

  That he could even ask showed how little he understood. Everything was ruined. Every memory stained. “No.”

  He brushed his lips across her nape. “I wouldn’t mind, Poppy.”

  Her world crumbled brick by brick. He hadn’t loved her. He didn’t love her. Her heart lay in pieces. She was starting a collection of clichés but didn’t they just sum up her life? Joe fell asleep and Poppy lay awake wishing she was the one who had died.

  Poppy fell in love with Joe the moment she saw him. She’d been attending a training course at Scotland Yard, and he was one of the speakers. Poppy was so mesmerized by the tall, clever detective with the cute smile, black hair and dangerous eyes that she’d spent the whole of his session trying to think of an intelligent question so she could impress him with her brilliance. All the time her heart thumped so fast she doubted she’d be able to speak if he even looked at her. While she phrased and rephrased queries about people trafficking, Joe’s area of expertise, suddenly the time was up, the questions over and she hadn’t said a flipping thing. He left the lecture room surrounded by a gaggle of adoring women and Poppy knew she’d missed her chance.

  As she’d walked past the landmark revolving sign outside the building, she heard someone running behind her.

  “Hang on,” a voice yelled.

  Poppy turned and thought she must be daydreaming. She looked around to see who he was running toward. No one. He was running after her. Poppy waited for him to catch up, her stomach churning.

  “You wanted to ask a question,” he said.

  How did he know? Poppy had come up with two and not been able to decide between them. Now she blurted one out. “Has any investigation been done into links between language schools and people trafficking?”

  Joe stared at her for a moment, twisting his mouth as though he were thinking up some complex reply. He scratched his head and then stared straight at her. “You need to ask questions that make me give more than a one word answer but the answer is yes.”

  Poppy had forgotten what she’d asked.

  “I get to ask a question now,” he said.

  She hoped it wasn’t about anything he’d said because she’d not paid proper attention. Much too busy thinking about his lovely face and how she could impress him.

  He fixed his dark eyes on hers. “Ever taken your handcuffs home with you?”

  “You need to ask a question that makes me give more than a one word answer.”

  He laughed. “There’s only one answer I want to hear. Do you ever take your handcuffs home with you?”

  “I can get out of any pair of handcuffs.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “No problem asking you a question that only requires a one word answer. You’re a master at prevarication. Shall I try again? Ever take your handcuffs home with you?”

  Poppy thought about just saying yes and then didn’t. “Only when I want to show off.”

  Joe laughed and asked her out.

  They’d been seeing each other for almost a year before he died, spending more and more time together. Poppy had allowed herself to hope he might ask her to move in with him but he’d never had the chance. She saw now that it wouldn’t have happened. Joe had never said he loved her, and now Poppy knew he never would.

  Chapter Five

  Poppy stared at Joe as he slept. The mind could play terrible tricks. How could the soft blanket draped over her be an angel’s wing? But she could see it and feel it. No matter how impossible all this seemed, Joe lay here next to her and she had to believe there was a reason for that even if it was something else that was her fault. Had she wanted Joe so much that he’d been forced to come back? Common sense told her that couldn’t be right. How about all those parents who lost children. They must want them back just as much as Poppy wanted Joe.

  He shifted and moments later launched into a series of violent sneezes. With the last explosive outburst, his wing flicked Poppy off the bed. She tumbled onto her butt and groaned in pain.

  Joe leaned over and gave her a rueful smile. “Sorry, babe. How come I still have allergies when I’m dead?” He reached down and hauled her back to his side.

  “Maybe it’s to give dead doctors something to do.”

  “Funny girl.”

  Poppy relaxed into his embrace as Joe stroked her with his wing. He drew the tip along the underside of her foot until she wriggled her toes, then around her ankle, up her calf. The caress was so gentle and intimate and so unlike Joe, a wave of affection washed over her.

  “Don’t stop until I tell you. Sometime next week or the week after,” she mumbled.

  Joe laughed and ran the wing tip along the crease of her bottom. Poppy almost levitated off the bed.

  “Can you feel what you’re doing?” she asked.

  “God, yes. It’s like having another limb, but one that’s hypersensitive. If I didn’t have you here, I’d be tempted to see if I could give myself a wank. If I used my hands at the same time it would be like having four—”

  “And if I joined in.”

  Joe shuddered and his cock jerked upright.

  “Not sure there’s room for four hands and two wings,” Poppy said.

  Joe growled. She smiled and entwined her fingers with his. “I always thought angels had white wings. Why are yours dirty gray? Been bathing in a
puddle?”

  “Desiree told me I had to earn white ones. I guess only the really good people get those straightaway. I don’t know if there are shades of gray, whether they get lighter if I’m on the right track or whether they just start to shine when I do my good deed. I should have asked more questions. Considering I’m a policeman, I didn’t get nearly as much information from her as I should have. One thing I do know, until these things change color, I’m trapped.”

  Poppy’s heart lurched and she tried to keep the dismay from her face. He feels trapped?

  “Apparently some seekers move on quite quickly, while others can take years to figure out what they have to do.”

  She felt a burst of joy that she might be able to keep Joe that long and then a wash of guilt because it was selfish.

  “Maybe this is my fault,” Poppy mumbled. “I wanted so much for you to have not died, perhaps I’ve stopped you going wherever it is you’re supposed to go.”

  They were quiet for a moment. Poppy wanted him to say that he was glad she wanted him that much, but he didn’t.

  “Did she give you a manual or anything?” Poppy asked. “No copy of How To Be An Angel For Dummies?”

  “No.” Joe chuckled. “You know I wouldn’t have read it.”

  He never read the instructions for anything which was why Poppy had several pieces left over from her flat pack wardrobe, rather too many of which were large screws. Every time she opened the doors, the whole thing wobbled.

  “It hasn’t fallen apart yet,” Joe said.

  Poppy felt a pang at how they knew what the other was thinking. She took a deep breath, and a big risk. “Would you like to live here with me while you try to earn your white wings?”

  She could almost feel Joe panicking at the thought of losing control over a part of his life. The air around them bristled with nervous tension.

  “Desiree said I can carry on living in my apartment.”

  Poppy hated herself for pushing, but did it anyway. “Someone else owns it now.” She’d seen a young couple through the window when she’d found herself sitting outside one night, waiting for Joe to come home, wanting to turn back time.