A Date With Angel and Other Things ...

by J. Judkins

  Kim decided to abandon her old hint guide. There was no walkthrough to get her through this. Nothing she could do or say would ever make it look as if it were Angel’s idea. Her adversary was too clever to fall for such a trap.

  But she couldn’t risk a delay. “I wanted to do it now,” Kim told her.

  “Why?” asked Angel.

  “Before your shower,” Kim insisted in an attempt to clarify that did nothing whatsoever to clarify anything. She couldn’t admit she’d prefer it if Angel were dressed. That would be giving too much away.

  Don’t say she’s too distracting.

  “After you take a shower, you’re too hard to resist,” Kim said, then blinked. Wait a minute. That was worse!

  Angel picked up on her changed attitude. “You’re not afraid anymore,” she stated.

  “Afraid?” Kim scoffed. “Me? Why would I be afraid? I want this. I want to get used to it.”

  Even as Kim said the words, she wanted to take them back. Surely Angel didn’t know Kim was aware of her master plan, and was attempting to build up tolerance to resist it? Had she given herself away? This was her secret weapon, and secret weapons lost their value if people knew about them.

  Angel took a step forward, well within Kim’s personal space. “We could kiss more often, if you want,” she ventured.

  Kim smiled wanly at Angel’s words. Saying “If you want,” was enough to imply Angel’s suggestion was Kim’s idea. Angel did it all so effortlessly. It was almost enough to make Kim doubt her own abilities.

  But Kim was a hardcore gamer with decades of experience. She wasn’t defeated yet. Gamers only lost when they ran out of lives, time, health, or when parents screamed at them to go to sleep. Kim possessed an abundance of the first three and didn't have a parent looming over her shoulder. She could still turn this around. “We could,” she said.

  “Would you like to join me in the shower?” asked Angel.

  Kim snorted in disdain. “Taking a shower with you is the last thing I want to do.”

  “What’s the first?”

  “...what?”

  “Did you have a list? What’s the first thing you wanted to do?”

  “Don’t change the subject!”

  Surprisingly, Angel backed away. “No. You’re right. We shouldn’t take a shower together.”

  Kim picked up on this at once.

  Is this a new trick?

  “Are you telling me no? You don’t want to do it?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

  A smart person would have dropped this line of questioning and moved on.

  “Why not?” Kim demanded. “I thought you’d love a chance to get me naked and...things.”

  Angel was visibly wavering. “Yes...it would be nice. I’d like to. Did you really want to do it?” she asked, her eyes seemingly imploring Kim to say yes.

  Kim was about to answer in the affirmative when cold reality caught up with her and smacked her upside the head.

  Dear God, was I about to agree?

  Angel really could play her like a Stradivarius!

  “Maybe later?” Kim amended weakly.

  “You wanted to kiss me, instead?”

  Kim glared at the floor again, scowling at the question.

  Why did Angel always have to phrase her questions to make it look as if she had nothing to do with them?

  She dug her toe into the carpet, unable to raise her eyes. “Yeah.”

  Angel needed no further prompting. She gingerly tilted Kim’s head up and captured her lips with her own. Kim felt an immediate rush of pleasure which she clamped down on and suppressed.

  She placed her hands on Angel’s hips, but they didn’t stay there for long. They slid around to Angel’s back, but Kim herself stopped them from hugging Angel or roaming around. Control was vital in this situation. She needed to maintain control. Her hands were perfect exactly where they were. A man’s center of gravity was in their chest, but a woman’s center was concentrated in the lower portion of her body.

  It followed that if Kim wanted to maintain control, she needed to control Angel’s center of gravity, and this was why her hands slid down to grab double handfuls of Angel’s ass.

  Wait a second...

  Kim forced her hands away.

  But...center of gravity...

  Shut up.

  She concentrated instead on her disinterest, trying to categorize everything logically and rationally. She reminded herself she was in this situation out of necessity, to gain much needed experience. Kissing Angel now was far better and preferable to kissing her later, half naked wearing only a towel, her hair wet and dripping, and--

  Don’t think about that!

  All of these justifications became a mantra she tried to hold in her head.

  As the kiss deepened and Angel’s tongue occasionally touched hers, Kim realized too late she couldn’t afford to dismiss the physical and emotional implications of what she was doing. All at once, it snuck up on her and overwhelmed her senses. Between one breath and the next, Kim didn’t want Angel to stop. She wanted Angel to do more. Much more.

  At least that was a thought she could focus on, a danger she’d envisioned. Hopefully, she’d also planned against it, because right now she couldn’t for the life of her think what that plan was supposed to be. Without intending to, she’d inadvertently built up desire. Her willpower had become compromised. She could no longer trust it.

  The fact that she was getting into it and wasn’t panicking was enough to throw her into a panic all by itself. Not a true panic, as others might define it, but instead a heightened sense of awareness that focused her attention. She was in a lot of trouble.

  Weren’t there warning signs that should have prevented her from falling this far?

  Kim tried to concentrate. The first sign should have been her accelerated heartbeat. She tried to listen for it, but could sense nothing. It seemed deceptively calm. Certainly not hammering in panic the way it should have been.

  The second warning sign should have been her ragged breathing. It was slow and steady. Here at least Kim understood the reasons behind it, and with that, she realized her mistake. When the kiss started, she’d deliberately kept her breathing even and neutral, hoping to quell any and all emotional and physical responses.

  In essence, she’d deliberately switched off her alarm system so it wouldn’t go off and alarm her!

  Who’s the idiot who thought of this plan?

  Assuming she survived this, the lesson was one to remember. But what she needed to do now was stop dwelling on the mistakes of the past and instead concentrate on getting out of this situation before it grew even worse.

  Okay. Focus. You’re kissing Angel, and you’re enjoying yourself far too much. Deal with it!

  What about the time-limit? The so-called masterwork phrase should have compelled Angel to stop kissing her and take her damned shower. Kim now realized her subtle message about the time-limit had been too subtle to notice. On paper, it had been glaringly obvious. In practice, it had proven to be nothing more than a theoretical irresistible compulsion.

  That, or Angel recognized it for what it was and had simply elected to ignore it. Kim wouldn’t put it past her.

  What if Kim muttered “shower” to Angel in a not-so-subtle manner? Would it be enough to remind Angel of her obligations?

  Or would she take the hint and twist and corrupt its meaning? Would she interpret it as a meaningful suggestion and use the opportunity to lead Kim into the shower with her?

  Kim felt cold. The thought nearly handing Angel such a weapon...

  Now that she thought about it, she’d been insanely lucky thus far. Angel still wasn’t using her hands on anything sensitive. That was good. If Kim didn’t know better, she might have thought Angel was deliberately attempting to avoid escalating the situation. But of course, that was ridiculous.

  Angel probably thought she was too clever for her, knowing she would stop any attempt to intensify matters before they
even got started.

  Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice if it were true?

  In truth, she was in more danger of losing herself than she’d ever been in in her entire life. If Angel tried anything, anything at all at this point, it would almost certainly push her over the edge. Kim would willfully give in and she’d be swept up in the passion of the moment.

  If she wanted to get out of this, she needed to focus, not think about how if Angel moved her hands just a little bit how good it would feel and--

  I said, don’t think about it!

  Kim moaned in frustration. It was unfair. This was getting her nowhere. She needed to get Angel to stop or just get away from her.

  That sparked a memory. Didn’t she find a way to escape, once before?

  Kim brightened.

  Yes! That’s it!

  There was a way to resist! A few nights ago, Angel insisted on a second goodnight kiss. Kim eventually gave in because she was stupid that way, but within seconds she’d found the strength she needed to break the kiss before the situation escalated beyond her control. She’d used her newfound willpower to push Angel away.

  That feeling, of course, was the sensation of Angel’s naked breasts pressing against her own. If she could somehow reproduce that experience, she could find that elusive strength she needed once again. That was her salvation. The perfect plan!

  At once, a good majority of her brain agreed with the idea. That was enough to make the remaining percentage instantly suspicious.

  Kim rethought the plan with widening eyes.

  What in the world am I thinking!

  That had to be the passion talking. It certainly wasn’t her! There was no way she should even entertain the possibility of going through with it. Getting Angel naked, even partially, would be bad. Very bad.

  Besides, that was then, and the situation tonight was totally different. That other time, Angel was practically naked before they even started kissing. Tonight, Angel was fully dressed with a shirt and presumably bra underneath. Kim didn’t think she could pull Angel’s shirt off over her head without first breaking the kiss.

  But what if she slid her hands under her shirt?

  Kim thought about it, and smiled. Yes, that could work! She could get to her breasts directly!

  Wait, when did this become her plan?

  The very fact that Kim had been seriously considering going through with it surprised her, but what shocked her even more were her hands.

  Without prompting, they snaked their way under Angel’s shirt. Together they worked in concert at Angel's bra, hoping to rescue her entrapped breasts from their unjust confinement. Only Kim’s complete unfamiliarity with taking off a bra at that angle kept her traitorous hands from achieving immediate success.

  This half-second delay allowed Kim the time she needed to regain full control, but not before Angel noticed what Kim’s unfaithful hands had been attempting to do. To Kim’s horror, Angel misinterpreted Kim’s problem and decided to help by unfasten her bra, herself.

  In desperation, Kim’s hands snapped up and captured Angel’s hands in her own. But too late. Far too late. The bra became slack in her hands and started to fall away. Kim tightened her hold on the garment, pressing it up against Angel’s chest, refusing to let gravity have its victory.

  Angel broke the kiss. “What are you doing?”

  “I didn’t want you to do it. I want to…I mean…”

  “You wanted to take it off yourself?”

  Kim was torn with indecision. There were pros and cons to be considered, and she couldn’t make herself concentrate.

  Angel sighed, then gently but firmly pulled her hands down in spite of Kim’s attempts to keep them there. She adjusted her shirt. “No. We’re not doing this.”

  “What?”

  “I have something special planned, and this isn’t it.”

  “What?” Kim said again.

  “We’re not doing this,” Angel repeated.

  “What? But...I thought you wanted to.”

  “I do want to, Kim. You know I do, but not tonight.”

  “But--” Kim started again, but what could she say? She had her defenses all lined up and ready to go, and now she didn’t need them? She almost felt cheated.

  “But I was ready for you this time!" Kim complained, then frowned. That didn't come out right.

  “We’re not doing this,” Angel insisted for the third time. “Not tonight.”

  “You’re getting the wrong idea,” Kim insisted.

  But Angel wasn’t listening anymore. She slipped past Kim, closing the bathroom door behind her.

  For several long moments Kim could only stare at the closed door in silence. She returned to her bedroom in a daze, Angel’s bra clenched tightly in her fist.

  What exactly happened?

  Angel had given her a lot to not think about.

  She tried not to think about how Angel nearly won tonight despite all her efforts to stop it. She refused to consider how in the back of her mind she still yearned for Angel to return and finish what she’d started.

  If there was a way out, she certainly didn’t see it.

  Did she even want a way out?

  She did, right?

  At least she'd gotten her scheduled goodnight kiss out of the way. She’d spent several long, pleasurable minutes kissing Angel without giving in. She’d survived and, presumably, built up much needed experience.

  But tonight Kim had learned to her sorrow that each exposure eroded her resistance faster than she could build tolerance. At this rate, she should be fully immune to kissing Angel on the third week after they’d starting having sex. This building tolerance master plan of hers had to be the stupidest idea she’d ever had. Her strategy had been doomed from the start.

  Perhaps a good night’s sleep will make things clearer.

  Kim turned off the lights and slipped into bed. She stared up at the ceiling, wondering at what happened and what might have been.

  When Angel walked in several minutes later, Kim turned away and didn’t acknowledge her, feigning sleep. Angel climbed into bed without a word, taking her place at her side.

  Still Kim didn’t move. Angel’s presence burned beside her, and Kim hugged herself into a ball. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel. Nothing made sense, anymore.

  How am I supposed to fight this?

  It took over an hour before she finally drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kim woke up late Saturday afternoon, tied to a chair. The room was twice the size of her living room, cleared of all furniture but for the single chair she sat in.

  Wait. Back up.

  She was tied to a chair.

  Why was she tied to a chair?

  The last thing she remembered was breakfast. Angel cooked. Bacon and eggs, if Kim recalled correctly. The two of them made small talk. Angel mentioned celebrating their one year anniversary today, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense at the time.

  Still didn’t, actually.

  The room’s exterior windows looked suspiciously similar to the windows belonging to Angel’s office building, where she’d received her mysterious delivery only a few days ago. Based on the amount of sunlight streaming in, it had to be several hours past noon. Kim could hear birds singing in the trees outside, but not a whisper of traffic. She was alone.

  Kim looked down at herself. Coils and coils of black nylon rope were wrapped around her body and the chair she sat in. Her hands rested comfortably in her lap, bound by an entirely different rope. A third set secured her to the sturdy wooden chair.

  The chair felt too heavy to shift. Her arms were secured to the arm rests, but the ropes weren’t as tight as she’d expected they would be. Kim started pulling and twisting at them, and almost at once, they started to give.

  Kim was no expert, but this seemed to her to be the work of an amateur. Or, more likely, someone who read up on restraining people earlier that day but had never personally seen an example of it. She
estimated she’d be free inside of ten minutes. Fifteen at most.

  A door opened behind her. Kim twisted her head, hoping to see, but the back of the chair blocked her vision. "Hello?" she called.

  "Kim? What’s going on?"

  Kim recognized the voice. "Stacy? What are you doing here?"

  Stacy groaned, seemingly in pain. Kim could imagine her rubbing her head. "I think your psycho girlfriend kidnapped me.”

  “She’s not--” Kim began, then stopped.

  “Not what? Psycho?”

  Kim had been about to say not my girlfriend, but that familiar denial didn’t seem as accurate these days. "Did Angel say why?" she asked.

  “Remember the last time the two of you came to the restaurant?” Stacy asked. “She took me aside and asked if I could help her with something personal, later in the week. I told her yes. This morning, she stopped by my apartment. I remember talking to her, saying hello, but not much after that."

  Stacy walked into Kim's field of view, dressed in casual clothes but looking none the worse for wear considering she’d just been kidnapped. Kim’s eyes were drawn to the semi-automatic handgun she carried in her right hand. When Stacy noticed her scrutiny, she held it up higher for her to see. "Found it in the room she stashed me in," she declared with a grin.

  Kim stared at the weapon. “It’s a gun.”

  “Yeah. I noticed. So how’d she get you?”

  "Poisoned breakfast, I think. Why in the world would she give you a gun?”

  Stacy shrugged. “Who knows? She was being cryptic in the restaurant, too.”

  The main door in front of them opened with a crash.

  Angel stood at the doorway. She was dressed in a mixture of black leather and metal armor, looking as if she’d just escaped from an anime convention. In one hand she carried, with no apparent effort, a jagged-edged, giant-sized sword clearly intended for two-handed use. She leveled the blade at Stacy and glared at her with murderous intent. Stacy paled and took an involuntary step back, quickly followed by a voluntary one.

  “I’ve found you, at last!” Angel declared. “You were a fool to use Kim against me. Now I’m here for your head!”

  There was a moment of silence. A bird chirped.