“You’re my Kae now,” he said, cradling me close.
I nodded, floating in languorous darkness. “Yes. Always yours.”
Two Birds, One Store
by Barbara Elsborg
Emma fidgeted at the back of the room well out of everyone’s way. She tried to look eager and attentive as Mr. White spoke, but her gaze slid first to his silver wings and then to the line of instructors standing behind him. One guy was new, all long and lean and luscious, resting with one foot propped against the wall. He had short black hair, the darkest eyes she’d ever seen and a ferocious scowl on his stubble-shadowed face. Sadly, the scowl was directed at Emma.
“You are the fortunate few,” said Mr. White. “Our society’s elite.”
Emma tuned back in, but she knew it all by heart. Twelve weeks of the same thing, she could have made the speech for him.
“You’ll be the winged sentinels of our community, upholding the law and righting wrongs.”
She tuned out again. Emma didn’t understand why there needed to be any upholding of the law in Heaven. Wasn’t this where good people came? But then Heaven hadn’t turned out to be as she’d imagined. Towering accommodation blocks, traffic jams and bad tempers. Very few up here had wings to get around and Emma had been told on arrival, she was one of the blessed ones. The birds of paradise.
Except she wasn’t, because despite weeks of training, with no sign of a single feather, she was beginning to think someone had made a mistake about where she belonged. First thing when she woke, Emma checked for horns and a tail.
As Mr. White finished speaking, Emma couldn’t help but notice the speed with which the instructors picked their trainees and avoided her. The scowling guy was left with no choice and walked over looking as though he’d found chewing gum stuck to his shoe.
“Dex,” he snapped.
“Emma.”
“Get on with it.”
She bit back her retort about him taking a flying leap and leaned over, hands on her knees, imagining feathers sprouting from her back to poke him in the eye and anywhere else it might hurt.
In no time at all, gray wings fluttered all over the room and it slowly emptied as excited trainees went for their first flying lesson. Emma straightened.
Dex circled her. “What’s wrong with you?”
Bastard. “Nothing.” For the last twelve weeks she’d passed everything with flying colors—except the flying part.
“A level nine angel and no wings?” he barked. “Of course there’s something wrong with you. Allergic to feathers?”
“No.”
“Scared of heights?”
“No.”
“Good. This way.”
Emma followed his lovely butt up the stairs. Apart from his sunny personality, Dex was exactly her type. Tall, slim hips, long legs and bitten fingernails—like hers.
“So how did you end up here?” she asked.
He came to such an abrupt halt, she almost nose-dived into his backside. Emma reared away as he turned. Oh, eye level with his crotch. That bulge…She dragged her gaze to his face.
“I died,” he said through gritted teeth and carried on up the stairs.
Emma sighed. “Me too.”
Dex’s shoulders shook. Amused or aggravated? She followed him out onto the flat roof and exhaled at the view. The highest she’d been. Gleaming towers of glass and steel pierced a pristine blue sky. Everything here was brighter and clearer.
Emma gulped when she looked at Dex. His wings were out, dazzling white and tipped with cobalt blue. Her stomach lurched with longing for him and his wings.
Dex walked to the edge of the roof and beckoned. As she stood by his side, his breath washed her cheek and Emma swallowed to bring moisture back into her mouth. When he slid his hand gently down her back, her lungs stopped working.
He’s going to kiss me!
He smiled and pushed her off the roof. Emma squealed as she fell like a stone.
Dex had hoped the shock would make her wings come straight out, but it didn’t. Shit. He folded his feathers close to his body and zoomed down. Emma was flapping her arms, which made him smile. She was kind of cute, if he’d been interested, which he wasn’t.
Though his cock seemed to disagree. But Dex liked petite and curvy blondes, not tall chicks with spiky dark-red hair and problems. Not that he’d been near any bird since he arrived here a year ago. He’d refused to train any female until Mr. White had threatened to ground him if he didn’t. Dex put on an extra burst of speed and scooped Emma into his arms before she fell into the fountain. The downdraft drenched those sitting around the rim. Dex winced as they yelled and then braced himself for the anticipated blast of abuse from Emma.
She beamed at him, one hand around his neck twisting his hair in her fingers, her eyes wide open and greener than they had any right to be. “Can we do that again? How many fountains are there in the city?”
A snort of laughter escaped his lips.
“Sorry it didn’t work though,” she said. “But when you think about it, what was there to be scared of? I’m already dead.”
Dex was impressed. That she could lose her fear so fast confirmed she was special.
“You can still damage your body.” Which was true. “But healing is long and painful.” Which was not.
Her mouth curved in a grin. “I trust you to catch me. Fly as high as you can—er—unless your middle name’s Icarus.”
Emma was still whooping with joy the tenth time he dropped her. Dex’s heart pounded harder and harder as he left the catch later and later. Finally, he gave up on her wings and carried her to his apartment. He landed on the balcony, retracted his feathers and with reluctance put Emma down. She felt right in his arms, fitted perfectly against him and every time he’d scooped her up, she’d laughed so hard she made him grin. It was a long time since he’d smiled as much.
“How long do I have to wait to get a place like this?” she asked as he ushered her inside.
“As soon as you can fly and you’ve completed the rest of your training. You can recreate the home you left behind or go for something different.”
Emma turned in a circle and he watched her take in his photographs, stacks of CDs, DVDs, books, his game system, the tatty red couch and huge flat screen TV.
“You brought your old life with you.”
“Not all of it,” he mumbled.
Emma dropped onto the couch. “It’s lovely in here, and nice not to be surrounded by people. Mr. White says they’ve never had anyone who’s had to repeat the training as many times as me. I really hate it when a new lot arrive at the dormitory and they’re all upset and keep going over and over why they died and fretting about those they left behind. I’ve heard so many sad stories it’s a wonder I’m not clinically depressed. I’m desperate that my wings come out.”
Dex sat next to her, his thigh resting against hers. “Maybe that’s what it is. You’re too desperate. You need to relax. You need distracting.”
Emma turned and smiled. “Are you volunteering?”
Dex was pretty sure what he had in mind wasn’t in the training manual—not that he’d read it all. Seven hundred and thirty-two pages? Her green eyes stared steadily into his and he watched them mist over, change from teasing playfulness to something more serious.
“I could try,” he murmured.
“Uh? I’ve forgotten what I said,” she whispered.
He moved closer. “Distraction.”
She moved closer. “Oh yeah. That’s kind of you.”
“One kiss. How can it hurt?”
He slipped his hands around her throat and traced the line of her jaw with his thumbs. Nine months, three weeks, two days since…but he wasn’t counting. Dex tipped his head, pulled her lips against his and was lost. She melted against him, dissolved into him, and slow and hot turned fast and greedy in an instant.
The taste of her made his head spin. The feel of her tongue dipping into his mouth sent his pulse rate into orbit. Dex was diml
y aware they were ripping the clothes from each other, fingers tearing at buttons, hands yanking down pants, mouths always linked. His erection was rock hard, cradled against her soft belly. Then they fell off the couch onto the floor and all he could think about was touching her everywhere, kissing her everywhere, licking her everywhere.
Emma smelled so sweet that every cell in his body felt electrified. Her breasts were small and round, topped with dusky nipples and tasted like—Oh God—they taste of life. Memories flooded back, need roared like a lion and Dex gulped air he no longer needed.
“I haven’t since—we don’t…need anything, do we?” she whispered.
Dex shook his head. No disease. No kids. Pure decadent pleasure.
He cupped her breasts in his palms. “You’re beautiful.”
No one had ever said that to her before, not even to her breasts, and Emma bit back her gulp. When Dex took her nipple in his mouth and sucked, she pressed her thighs together to contain the rush of hot pleasure. Emma was desperate for him to be inside her. His fingers danced over her belly and slid between her legs. His groan almost made her come.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered.
He pushed one finger inside her and Emma whimpered. Two fingers and her back arched. More, more, more. He played with her clit—rubbing, stroking and teasing while her orgasm built.
“I can’t wait any longer,” Dex said with a low moan.
He slipped his hands under her hips and slid into her in one long, hard, deep thrust. Emma came in an instant, her muscles spasming around his cock as stars burst in her head.
Wow wow wow wow wow.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he murmured and Emma forced her lids open.
Dex smiled and reached for her hands, entwining his fingers with hers as he began to move. He watched her face as he rocked into her and Emma stared into his dark eyes, black as obsidian. She lifted her hips into his thrust, tightening her muscles around him before he pulled back to drive forward again.
“Oh God,” Dex panted, his face taut with strain.
Emma could feel something sparking inside her and groaned.
Every thrust seemed to take him deeper. Every withdrawal, she wanted him back. Emma had never made love like this before, eyes open, hands together, with such an awareness of the other person.
“Fuck, fuck, I can’t—” Dex gasped.
One long, deep plunge drew cries from them both and she felt the warm spurt of his cum as orgasm rolled over her again, rushing through her blood, down every limb, carrying her on a rolling wave of adrenaline. Dex shuddered as he emptied himself inside her and Emma felt every pulse, every jet.
He held himself above her for a long moment, staring into her eyes and then rolled so she lay on top of him, his cock still wedged inside her. Dex’s hands slid across her back, paused between her shoulder blades and with a sinking feeling, Emma remembered what this had been about. Distraction. Her wings.
She buried her face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder and blinked back tears. This wasn’t about love.
“Why are you here?” Dex whispered. “What happened?”
“Promise not to laugh?”
“Promise.”
“Some moron threw a frozen chicken out of his window and it hit me on the head.”
Emma could feel Dex shaking.
“You’re laughing. Liar.”
She tried to push herself up but he held her down and then drew circles on her back.
“I’m trembling in indignation,” he said.
Emma elbowed him in the chest and he grunted.
“How about you?” she asked.
Dex’s fingers froze mid-circle. Emma sighed. She got that he was sensitive about the way he’d died, but—
“Emma, there’s something here.”
She jolted and twisted round. “Oh my God, what? Where? A demon? A zombie?”
He rolled his eyes and peered over her shoulder. “Ah.”
Emma chewed her lip. “Is that ah—pathetic, or ah—magnifico?”
His lack of response was her answer.
“Mirror?” she whispered.
Dex lifted her off his cock, stood and pulled her to her feet. He tugged her toward the far wall. When Emma stood in front of the mirror, staring at her tousled hair and flushed face, and Dex’s tight mouth, she was afraid to turn. She already knew she didn’t have proper wings because she couldn’t see them hanging on either side of her body. She took a deep breath, faced Dex and then looked over her shoulder.
Disappointment flooded her heart. The two clumps of fluffy feathers nestling between her shoulder blades vaguely resembled the ugly wings of giant baby birds.
Emma swallowed hard. “Well, at least I know now. There must have been a mistake about my classification. Probably because I was killed by a chicken.”
“Hey.” Dex pulled her into his arms and Emma let herself sag against him. “They’re kind of cute.”
“No they’re not. I can’t fly with these.”
He held her out, his hands cupping her face and looked into her eyes. “Then fly with me.”
And Emma did—several times until they slumped into an exhausted sleep, tangled in each other’s arms.
Emma woke to find herself lying face down in bed. She was pressed up against Dex who rested on his back, his hand clasping her butt even in sleep. Dawn was breaking, the room suffused with a golden glow. As was Emma.
Dex was inventive, attentive and very impressive. She’d come so many times she’d lost count. Now she ached. All over. Particularly her back. She rolled her shoulders and jumped as something clattered to the floor behind her. God, is someone there? Whoever it was had a great view of her bare bottom. Emma turned and heard another crash from the other side of the room.
She tried to burrow under Dex. “There’s someone in here with us.”
“What?” He lifted his head and reared up. “Fuck!”
Emma jolted and watched in horror as a lamp, book and glass of water sailed off a bedside table.
“Don’t move,” Dex blurted.
Emma whipped round and Dex ducked as a large white wing whistled over his head.
“I’ve got wings!” she squealed.
“Keep still,” he begged.
Emma tensed, tried to bring her wings in, shot straight up to the ceiling, hit her head and then tumbled down to land in an untidy heap of feathers on the bed, dragging a wall painting and the light shade down with her. “Ouch.”
Dex wrapped his arms around her.
“Sorry, sorry,” Emma blurted.
He grinned. “You did it!”
Emma’s wings curled in and she gasped when she saw the cobalt blue tips. “Hey, they’re like yours.”
Dex’s wings unfurled gracefully behind him and wrapped around both of them. “Exactly like mine,” he said.
He couldn’t believe how much he wanted her. Dex hadn’t felt this strongly about anything or anyone since he realized he was dead. He’d drifted in a morose sulk watching others learn how to be happy again and knowing that would never be him. Women were treacherous. A lesson learned too late.
He’d been wrong.
Emma was the first he’d wanted to be with and now he didn’t want to let her go.
She’s my last, my forever.
Dex kissed her. Once he started, he found it impossible to stop. All teeth and lips and tongues, they were smiling, laughing and kissing all at the same time. Their wings brushed together, tip to tip, in their own intimate embrace. Sensation heightened, every molecule of his body headed toward orgasm.
When he touched her soft folds with one of his primary feathers, Emma gave such a cry of joy, his heart ached. His cock was painfully hard, desperate for her warmth and as he sank into her, Dex whispered, “I love you.”
Emma’s eyes opened wide and he saw her response in her smile.
They began to move like seasoned lovers, intuitively matching the other’s rhythm, building like a piece of music to a crashing finale
, sliding fast and shallow, deep and slow until neither could hold back. Emma cried out loudly as she came and Dex exploded into her and felt her milk him of everything he had.
Speaking was beyond them for a while. Wings joined, bodies pressed together along their lengths, Dex was finally in heaven. Emma stroked his face, ran her fingers around his chin, over his lips, down his throat.
“Why are you here?” she whispered.
“My girlfriend…killed me.”
He exhaled. The first time he’d admitted it, even to himself.
“Deliberately?” Emma asked.
“She hit me with her car and reversed over me twice. Seemed deliberate.”
“Unless she was a terrible driver. I can’t parallel park to save my life.” Emma winced.
“She was sick, thought I was cheating on her. I’d never do that. She wasn’t thinking straight.”
Emma clutched his fingers.
“And part of that was my fault,” he whispered. “I should have made her get help. Instead, I wanted to walk away.”
“You paid a heavy price.”
Dex ran his finger across her lips. “I thought so. I don’t think that now.”
His phone rang and when it didn’t stop, Dex reached out a hand and drew it to his ear.
“What?”
“How’s it going with Emma?” asked Mr. White.
Dex smiled. “I’m still working on her. Could take some time.” He dropped the phone.
Mr. White turned to The Boss who sat opposite. “You were right about putting them together. She’s made him happy. He’s brought out her wings.”
The Boss smiled. “Two birds with one stone.”
Mr. White rolled his eyes. The Boss did like his clichés.
You Will Not Kill Me
by Elaine Lowe
When Ellen Davies married Nicolai Romanescu the ceremony was unremarkable. It had been in the morning, before she’d taken her vows, when the odd thing had occurred. Nicolai’s only family to attend the ceremony, a wizened old aunt who spoke not a word of English, visited Ellen. The aunt had smiled after a long, silent appraisal of Ellen, and then she had handed Ellen a note written on fine parchment in a neat but archaic looking script.
Just One Bite Volume 5 Page 2
