by Nicki Elson
“They all have. And maybe getting in trouble for it early on will help her make better choices in the future. It seems to have worked for my boys.”
“I can only hope.”
“And pray.”
Maggie stayed silent.
“…and pray,” Nancy repeated expectantly.
“To be honest with you, Nance, praying doesn’t seem to have been doing a whole hell of a lot of good lately.”
“Um, it’s getting Kirsten off with nothing more than a blip.”
“No, Carl’s attorney is doing that. Look, I’m just going through a little bit of a dry spell spiritually right now. Between Father Tom getting shipped away and…other things.”
“Well, I’m going to pray that the holiday season moistens this dry spell. Ew, that didn’t sound good, did it?”
Maggie laughed. “No, it didn’t.”
“So when are you coming to visit? Let’s make it soon. I know I’ll be up for Christmas in a couple weeks, but that’s always so crazy and goes by too fast. I’d love to get you down here and have you all to myself.”
“That sounds great. I feel like I just need to get away from everything, even if it’s just for a long weekend. Assuming all goes as planned with the lawyers, what would you think of late January?”
“Perfect! Assuming Chicago doesn’t snow you in, of course.”
“Let’s plan on it then.”
After ending the call with her sister, Maggie pulled a load of laundry out of the dryer and folded it. It was Saturday, and she was reluctant to admit to herself that she was relieved the kids were at Carl’s for the weekend. Things had been strained between her and Kirsten since the fire, with Maggie trying to strike the right balance between stern discipline and maternal nurturing and Kirsten adeptly pushing every one of her mother’s guilt buttons. It had been stressful for both of them, and the break from each other was good. Maggie planned to go shopping for a few final Christmas gifts after church the next day and hoped setting her mind to that happy task would bring her heart and nerves back to something more normal. As the weekend had approached, Maggie forced herself to dismiss any fears about the fire being supernaturally malicious. All had been calm since, and she simply couldn’t fit one more ounce of anxiety into her emotional basket.
She finished folding and carried the clothes upstairs. As soon as she crossed the threshold into her bedroom, she felt Evan. She’d mastered her poker face and moved about the room putting away her clothes as if he wasn’t there.
“I understand your concern about the children overhearing,” he said, “but please, talk to me now.”
Maggie made the mistake of looking at him. The sincerity and anguish that strained his sublime features cradled her heart even as they ripped it apart. She pressed her lips resolutely together and brushed past him, her shoulder accidentally bumping against his arm. Pulling open a drawer, she shoved a few shirts inside.
“Please, Maggie. This hostility isn’t good for you.”
She whipped around. “Why are you even still here? Nothing has happened since last weekend—no fires, no possession, no nothing other than tension between me and Kirsten while Carl’s the big damn hero. You aren’t needed anymore.” She moved over to the next drawer and crammed a fistful of socks into it, then turned and stared hard into her empty laundry basket. “Please, just go away.”
“I honestly wish I could give you the space and time you need, Maggie.”
Gripping the sides of her basket, she said through clenched teeth, “Why don’t you, then—and do not tell me you don’t know.”
He was silent for a few moments, and Maggie was about to turn and walk out of the room, resolved to resume pretending he wasn’t there, when he spoke. “Something evil is drawing closer to you. It’s the only explanation I can give for my inability to leave you. I promise I’ve tried, but the pull to be with you, to envelop and protect you, is too strong.”
Maggie had to force her eyes to stay down as Evan dared a step closer. Her voice shook when she said, “If there’s a real danger, I’d rather have you with the children.”
“It’s not my choice. You’re the one I’ve been sent for.”
“It’s too hard,” she whispered and lifted her eyes, no longer attempting to conceal the desire burning within them. He took half a step back, and Maggie winced. “You see why I need to keep walking away? It’s what I do best when I’m not strong enough to handle something.”
“You’re strong enough, Maggie. I know you are.”
Maggie shook her head again. “The only thing that ever made me feel strong enough was you—when you would hold me and impart your bliss. But that wasn’t me being strong; it was me borrowing your strength. And now you won’t even let me do that. Is my weakness so repulsive that you can’t even stand to embrace me?”
“Maggie,” he said and reached a hand toward her, but let it drop, balling it into a fist at his side. “The peace you felt came from the Lord. He’s the one you need to depend on, not me.”
“So the answer to my question is yes.” She kept her gaze straight on him, but his image blurred as her eyes filled with angry and humiliated tears.
“Stop,” he murmured. “You don’t understand. It isn’t your weakness that keeps me away. It’s mine.” His head turned to the side and tilted toward the floor, away from her. “I can’t touch you without wanting…more. I have asked—begged,” he continued as he lifted his face to look at her, “to be reassigned. As much as I don’t like the idea of being permanently separated from you, being here has become too difficult for me too. But that doesn’t seem to matter to my superiors, because their answer was a resounding no.”
Maggie’s hold on the basket slackened, but she tightened it, forcing down the bubble of hope that tried to rise amidst all the heaviness of the last week. “I wasn’t making it all up?” Evan didn’t answer or gesture in any way, but the earnest lock of his eyes on hers told her she had it right. “So you do want me, and the powers that be won’t allow you to leave—have you ever thought for one moment, Evan, that just maybe you and I are supposed to be together?”
He held his hands up and took a step back. “No. Not in the way we want.”
They were right back where they always ended up—nowhere, and Maggie snapped, flinging the laundry basket across the room and shouting, “This is ridiculous! You want me, you push me away, you kiss me, and then refuse to touch me. I’m human, Evan. I am only human, and I can’t do this anymore! Decide what you want. Figure out exactly what the hell you’re doing here, and until you do, stay away from me.” She turned to storm out of the room, but he grabbed her bicep, holding her there.
“You have to control your anger, Maggie.” She found the incensed tremor in his voice ironic, and turned to look at him, his glowering face only inches away. “This is an extremely dangerous time to give maleficence a foothold. I’ve told you I can’t leave, so what do you expect me to do?”
She gritted her teeth and snarled, “I wish you’d never come here. I wish I’d never seen you, and I wish to holy hell I’d never let you in.”
“What do you want me to do?” He tightened his grip on her arm.
“You know what I want.”
He grabbed her other arm and pushed her backward until he held her arms pinned to the wall. The force he used shocked her, and before she fully absorbed what was happening his mouth crashed onto her lips and his torso pressed into hers, flattening her spine against the wall. Her body responded immediately, and by the time her brain caught up, she was biting into him with almost as much fury as he was into her.
His hands loosened their hold on her arms, and she pulled them free to wrap around his shoulders and clutch at his hair, pulling him closer. This kiss was unlike any of the others. It was hot and flowing and reached down to every part of Maggie’s body. Evan’s hands traveled over her, and not in the gentle strokes with which he’d previously caressed. He grabbed and clawed. Fabric ripped as he thrust a hand up her shirt and dug his fingern
ails into her breast. She let out a muted gasp at the pain.
Pulling his mouth from hers, he huffed, “Is this what you want?” He sank his teeth into her clavicle, and she clamped her lips together to stop from crying out. She saw now that he wanted her to tell him to stop. He lifted his face and asked again, “Is this what you want?”
Stinging tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered stubbornly.
His irises flickered rapidly back and forth over her face as if assessing her sincerity. If being close to Evan meant letting him tear her apart, she’d do it. She’d finally smashed down his barriers and wasn’t going to flinch now. His hand trailed down her abdomen and lingered at the waistband of her jeans.
“No!” he shouted and took three quick steps backward, then turned and vanished. But before his essence had fully left the room, he was back, taking determined steps to Maggie. With intent eyes on her, he lowered his palms against the back of her thighs, and gently lifted her to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held his shoulders. For several moments, they silently stared at each other. The violence had disappeared from his silvery eyes and the smooth lines of his features, and Maggie understood that he was letting her make the next move. This time it was real. She lowered her mouth to his, and when they made contact, everything Maggie ever knew faded away. There was only Evan.
He carried her to the bed, kissing her the whole way, and laid her down, his mouth leaving hers only to nuzzle away the red marks he’d left behind on her chest. She was hesitant to move too aggressively, not wanting to scare him away again, but her overwhelming curiosity to touch more of his flesh urged her to take a chance. She tentatively slid her fingers under his linen shirt and raked them over the supple skin of his lower back. He shuddered slightly as her flesh sank in, commingling with his.
A tugging below her navel told Maggie he was working at the closure on her jeans, and soon she felt his fingertips melting into the soft flesh beneath her zipper. She walked her fingers up his vertebrae and then skimmed them down his back, tilting her pelvis to entice him ever lower. His hand froze and he abruptly lifted his head, looking down on her with wide, frightened eyes.
“It’s okay,” Maggie murmured, quickly bringing one of her hands to the side of his face. “We can take this slow. It doesn’t all have to happen all at once.”
Without a word, Evan was off her, off the bed, and gone.
Maggie sat up and huffed sharply, half exasperated and half exhilarated. The stops and starts were frustrating, but she and Evan were finally getting somewhere, and she was confident he’d be back. She looked down at her torn shirt and smiled. Unclasping her bra, she pulled the straps through her sleeves and slid it off, pleased with the outline of her freed breasts through what was left of the thin fabric. She shimmied all the way out of her jeans and threw them on the floor, removing the obstacles.
There was still no sign of Evan, but she remained steady in her conviction that he’d be back. Everything had been moving toward this point. It only made sense for him to return and finish it. Still, even in her titillated state, she couldn’t convince herself that fornicating with an angel had been God’s purpose in sending Evan to her. But since the Lord was so irritatingly reticent to reveal his plans, she’d enact hers in the meantime.
It was taking Evan longer to work out his mind this time, and she was getting drowsy, so she pulled on her sleep mask to block the light of the declining sun and lay on top of her covers.
She woke to something tickling the ridge of her bare hip and knew it must be his fingertips, scarcely sinking into her flesh as they ran along it. Smiling, she turned from her side onto her back, reaching to remove her mask, but before she could get to it, his hands clasped her wrists and lifted her arms over her head, holding them to the mattress. His calves brushed against the outside of her thighs, straddling her.
Shifting to hold both her wrists with one hand, he touched a finger to the base of her throat and tickled along her breast bone, tracing a straight line down to the top of her shirt, where he dipped his finger to hook around the fabric and ripped it all the way through to the hem. His warm hand lightly passed over each breast, pushing the fabric away and allowing cool air to lick at her torso. Maggie’s every cell was brought to tingling attention when she heard him sigh while no doubt gazing at her nakedness.
This time she wouldn’t push. She’d lay back and let him take it as slowly as he needed to—not that she had much choice with him still pinning her wrists to the bed. He moved to one side of her, and with his free hand stroked the insides of her thighs, gradually spreading them apart. He didn’t speak. Nor did he kiss her. After a few minutes of silently caressing, eliciting light sighs from Maggie, he rolled on top of her, making her gasp at the sensation of his full chest sinking into hers. Squeezing her thighs into his, she rubbed them along his hips and found that he was completely unclothed. His scent was all spice now, with no trace of his milder aromas.
She felt his lips at her ear, tickling as he whispered, “May I enter you?”
“Always the gentleman,” she purred.
He tensed his grip on her wrists and teased her by ducking the fingertips of his other hand just inside the top of her panties, sending his watery vibrations into her but stopping centimeters shy of where she wanted him.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice a sultry octave lower than she’d ever heard it before.
“Yes!”
The sound of fibers rending ripped through the room. Maggie was free, and in the next instant she was screaming as he plunged inside her. She’d always suspected making love to Evan would be amazing, but she never could have predicted such instant gratification. The melding of their flesh was nothing compared to what happened between their sensitive genitalia. These didn’t merely sink into each other with the usual cascades—they exploded upon impact. The sensual equivalent of fireworks.
His grunts and growls indicated that he was likewise enjoying himself, but unlike Maggie, he didn’t appear to have climaxed. He never slowed for a moment, and even before fully coming down from her first orgasm, Maggie already felt herself climbing toward another. Her moans reached their highest pitch, and he flattened his hand across the small of her back, lifting it and driving her over a peak higher than she ever could have imagined.
She shouted out words, but even as she said them, she knew they made no sense. She honestly felt like she was going insane from the pleasure, yet she didn’t want it to stop. She didn’t ever want it to stop.
He lowered her to the bed and changed his rhythm to something slower, deeper. It allowed her awareness to reach beyond her interior. She was sweating, they both were, and his abdomen slid across hers with a slapping sound of wetness every time he pushed down against her. He continued to hold her wrists above her head, but like everything else, her flesh there was moist, slipping around in his now precarious hold. She wanted to run her hands along his muscles as they flexed over her, and she wanted to pull his face to hers.
Her hands slipped through his grip, but before they could find purchase anywhere, he grabbed each in one of his own, and rolled to his side, pulling her until he was on his back with Maggie on top of him. He lowered his arms so his elbows were propped on the bed, and Maggie gripped his hands, using them for support and making the most of the new angle. He moved with her, but let her guide the experience.
She was overwhelmed with the desire to look at him, to see those beautiful eyes watching her pleasure. But he clasped her hands to his when she tried to pull away. She was close to climaxing again, so she didn’t fight him, instead continuing her rhythmic undulations until he too was groaning.
He dug his fingers into her hand and shifted, flipping them both over so he was once again on top, pounding desperately into her. She peaked first, with him only seconds behind. Lifting his torso, he shuddered, and a scorching blast seared deep into Maggie. She pressed her head back into the pillow and inhaled slowly, attempting to manage the pain through her
breathing. As the scalding agony calmed to a smolder, a strange part of her wanted to hold onto the pain—because it belonged to Evan.
As her burning insides began to return to normal, she tried to reconcile the idea of her kind, gentle angel with the beast that had just so thoroughly fucked her. She’d enjoyed every moment of it, but she felt an empty space inside her, like something important was gone. She missed the tenderness, the closeness, the love she’d expected. She again wanted to rip off the mask that separated them and look into his brilliant eyes. She wanted to hold him. But he trapped her wrists at her shoulders while he stroked his tongue over her salty torso, back and forth along one side of her rib cage.
She smiled at his gentle touch. Here was some of the tenderness she was yearning for. His tongue was warm, almost hot, heating her skin and leaving behind a simmering trail in the sweat that drenched her.
He slowly traced his deliberate tongue onto her breast and around her nipple, causing Maggie to inhale sharply as a new spark of desire raced through her. Teasingly, he drew his tongue back down and then up, between her breasts, continuing all the way to the hollow at the base of her throat, where she involuntarily whimpered at having his mouth so close to hers. She wanted to kiss him. But he moved away to flick at her other nipple and then trace along the opposite side of her rib cage.
He was obviously absorbed in his ritual, so Maggie decided to simply relax and enjoy it while she patiently waited for him to come back to her. His tongue curved free-form around her abdomen and naval while her internal burning lessened to a dispersed warmth. Oddly, she found herself craving more heat, more pain.
He finished painting her with his expert tongue and crawled onto her, his face hovering just above hers. His warm breath floated into her open mouth, and she breathed him in, tilting her head and readying her mouth to receive his. Keeping his lips just out of reach, he tortured her. As she sucked in his exhalations, her thoughts grew cloudy, and she realized too late that he was intentionally fading her consciousness. She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to look upon his enchanting face and hold him. She struggled against his influence, but her will was no match for his, and ultimately she slipped away.