Heavenly Desire

by J. L. Sheppard

  Jenna reappeared with an alcohol swab, a towel and handed them to him. “Fix it,” Jenna said harshly then left.

  He wafted the alcohol swab back and forth near Ashley’s nose until her eyelids fluttered open.

  “Ash,” he said quietly, running his hand over the side of her face. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

  “Clyde?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “I…I—”

  “No, no, don’t. Just rest, please.”

  With glistening eyes, she admitted, “I prefer you.”

  His heart jolted in his chest with foolish hope. Foolish because her words didn’t change the fact that one day she’d prefer another, that she could never be his.

  He leaned toward her, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up until she sat up, her face buried in his chest. Clyde rubbed her back softly, breathing deeply so he could fully inhale her lovely scent. As he’d imagined doing countless times, he laced his fingers in her hair. Just as he predicted, it was soft to the touch and thick.

  He held her for moments too long, and she let him until, reluctantly, he pulled away slightly so he could stare into her glorious chocolate-colored eyes. Then he couldn’t help himself, slowly he softly placed his lips over hers.

  Her mouth parted in invitation, and their tongues met battling leisurely with desire for one another.

  She tasted as sweet and sultry as the first time, making his shaft lengthen and pulse painfully. The images of her naked beneath him assailed him. He groaned.

  He craved to kiss, lick every inch of her and feel her naked body against his as he drove himself inside her, making her scream with passion.

  Pressing her body against his, he ran his hands up and down her back. She arched, her skin erupting in goose flesh.

  He knew he should stop but couldn’t find the strength to pull away, instead he trailed his lips down her neck kissing her sensitive flesh. A soft moan escaped her lips and resonated inside him.

  She’s not yours, his mind whispered. This is wrong.

  Cursing his conscience, he pulled away and stared into her eyes, hazy with need and at her swollen kissed lips.

  Hoping to dispel the image, he forced his eyes shut. It did no good because her face was all he saw when his eyes slid closed.

  “Hell,” he whispered under his breath, then his gaze returned to hers. “Ash, I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I want you so bad.”

  “I want you, Clyde.”

  Those words were his undoing, his surrender. He claimed her lips forcefully in a gut-wrenching kiss parting her mouth with his tongue. She didn’t fight, instead, with equal force, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him toward her, pressing her lithe tempting body against his. He ran his hands down her body, leaning into her until she lay flat on the bed. Greedily, he cupped her breast and squeezed lightly, loving the feel, the softness. She moaned in response and wrapped her lean legs around him encouraging him. He groaned imaging what it would feel like to suckle her bosom, wondering if they’d taste as delicious as her lips.

  “Clyde,” she moaned.

  Her fingers dug into his shirt, into his skin as he pressed his erection against her center. The heat from her core soothed his soul. He ran his mouth down her neck and licked her, relishing the taste of every inch. She shuddered against him. Her hands ran up his neck and dug into his hair. He inhaled and her wanting scent washed over him, his shaft jerking painfully.

  I want her. I need her, he thought. You can’t have her. She’s not yours, his conscience sneered.

  He enjoyed what was meant for another. It was wrong. He knew it. He felt it. The guilt that washed over him gave him the resolve he needed to quickly pull away and stand, his back facing her. Immobile for several moments, he gathered his sanity then he turned to face her.

  Her swollen lips, her willing body tormented him, but the anguish in her face crippled him. He wanted to abandon his duties and surrender to his desires—her, but he couldn’t.

  “Ash, I want you, but we can’t give in. You belong to someone else. I’m sure of it. What type of person would I be if I allowed this to happen?”

  He turned to leave but then faced her again. “If I could, I would stay with you forever, even if it meant I’d have to watch you fall in love with your mate.”

  With those last words, he walked away.

  ****

  The next few days passed slowly. Clyde kept his distance. Her attraction to him had yet to fade, instead in his absence she felt it heighten.

  Ashley understood why he avoided her and couldn’t blame him for it. He believed she belonged to another and didn’t want to become involved. Still she hated the distance between them.

  She learned to appreciate the rare moments when he was near. Even though he barely spoke to her, she still found his presence comforting and missed the days they’d spent together in London, France and the first day they’d spent in New York when he’d consoled her and held her. Now all a bittersweet memory.

  She often found herself glancing around, wondering if he would barge in at any moment, but he never did. Every night, she’d see him at dinner then he left to patrol for Malums and wouldn’t return until nearly dawn.

  She spent her days training with Jenna, Lucas and the other demons. Sometimes, in the late afternoons, Jocelyn and Landon would come by and spend some time chatting until dinner. Other times, Jacob would show her around the city. She cooked every other night with Cain. He continued to insist he needed to learn from an expert, and she appreciated the company. Though the moments were fleeting, they kept thoughts of Clyde at bay.

  When Clyde, Jenna and most of the demons headed off to hunt, she often found herself in the hot tub letting her mind drift. Tonight was one of those nights.

  Her mind, as it had for the past few days, always drifted to Clyde and their shared moments of passion. The way his lips pressed firmly against hers. The way he’d kissed down her neck, pressed the length of his arousal against her and touched her so lovingly. He’d made her feel desired, needed and wanted. Something no other man had ever made her feel.

  For those heated moments, she had forgotten about her scars. Perhaps it was for the best it hadn’t gone further. She didn’t know how he would’ve reacted when he saw the scars, and she couldn’t handle his rejection because of a past she could never change.

  ****

  Anxiety overwhelming him, Clyde patrolled the New York streets for Malums with Jenna and the demons, but his mind was far away from the hunt and on Ashley.

  Time away from her took its toll on him. He couldn’t fathom how or why her presence soothed him. He had hoped it would fade, but it had yet to. Often, he prayed, by some miracle, she was his. Only then, he feared the ache in his chest and the constant torment he had yet to learn to live with would subside.

  He wanted her, all of her, and in his heart, he knew he needed her. At times when he caught a glimpse of her from across the room, longing filled her eyes and only then did he feel perhaps she needed him, too.

  His conscience constantly reminded him she wasn’t his. Only that thought stopped him from searching for her in the large Manhattan building she called home. Other times, no matter how many times his conscience scolded him, he couldn’t help but walk in her direction. During those times, only sheer willpower prevented him from seeking her out.

  Every day, it got harder to stay away. Pretty soon, he’d lose the battle altogether.

  He sighed, tired of being overrun with thoughts.

  “What’s wrong?” Jenna asked, stealing a glance in his direction. Her face softened immediately knowing exactly what was wrong. “Go to her.”

  He vanished before she finished her last word. Reappearing in Ashley’s room, he realized the sheets hadn’t been slept in. He shifted to spirit form and followed her scent, which led him through the patio doors and outside.

  Ashley immersed in the hot tub, a glass of wine on the edge. Her hair tied in a bun at the top of her head. Her cheeks were rosy,
and perspiration from the heat of the tub beaded on her face. She appeared lost in thought, twirling her fingers over the water, using her power to create a whirl.

  He smiled as he watched her. She was the most beautiful woman on earth, the most beautiful woman created. He knew a man would die for a look at her.

  She straightened and stood in the middle of the hot tub, her side facing him. His eyes trailed down her body admiring her plump rear and flat stomach in the skimpy two-piece bikini she wore.

  Feeling like a voyeur, shame filled him. He was about to turn away when she shifted, angling the front of her body toward him. His gaze gravitated to a four inch scar in the middle of her stomach above her bellybutton. His eyes shifted higher spotting another scar on her chest. Quickly, he scanned the rest of her and noticed several others, one on her upper right arm, two on her left thigh and another near her left wrist.

  He shifted. Her eyes darted toward him then her flushed face paled. She reached for her robe and covered her body quickly then on trembling legs stepped out of the hot tub.

  “I…I didn’t know you would be home,” she said softly avoiding his gaze.

  Clyde closed the distance between them, his mind rapidly running through all the possibilities of how she could’ve acquired the scars. Only one made sense, abuse. She was an immortal, but immortals at a young age could scar if the object remained inside their bodies not allowing them to heal immediately.

  Anger churned through him. Anger so powerful and so disarming, his body was fever pitch hot, and his hands shook from the rage coursing through him. He wondered idly if this was how it felt when a demon turned. He knew with certainty it was how it felt to lose complete control.

  I’ll slaughter whoever did this!

  Chapter 14

  “What are those scars from?” Clyde asked sternly.

  Ashley felt her face grow a shade paler. She avoided his stare, knowing she wouldn’t be able to lie to his face.

  “Ashley,” he said impatiently. “How did you get those scars?”

  Still avoiding his stare, she mumbled, “Um…”

  “Look at me, Ashley!”

  His harsh tone made her jump, then reluctantly, her gaze shifted, meeting his. Her pulse pounded wildly when she noticed his demeanor.

  Anger marred his face. His shoulders ramrod straight and stiff. The muscles in his jaw ticked each time he clenched it. He fisted his palms so tightly his knuckles were white.

  “Don’t lie or try to hide the truth from me. They are all over your body. I’m going to ask you one more time. What caused those scars?”

  She slowly took several steps away from him then turned away. He appeared in front of her. Startled, her eyes widened.

  “Jade Ashley, you can’t run from me. I’m an angel, remember? Tell me now,” he demanded.

  Her heart rate spiked, and fear overwhelmed her. No, she couldn’t tell him. Then he’d know what no one else knew, and he’d never look at her the same.

  Despite her fear, she lifted her chin, defiantly. “No, Clyde.”

  His eyes hardened, he gritted his teeth.

  She flinched, then with trembling hands pulled her robe tighter. She shouldn’t be afraid. Clyde would never hurt her. He was her guardian, and as he just pointed out an angel, but fear held her in its grip. She couldn’t stand the intensity of his anger, the blinding rage coursing through him. It reminded her of how she got the scars.

  “Ashley, I need to know. How. Did. You. Get. The. Scars?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  Jenna barged in, Lucas trailing behind her. “Clyde, what the hell?” Jenna asked, placing herself between Ashley and him. “What did you do?”

  Clyde shifted his gaze toward Jenna. “Nothing,” he barked.

  “You did something otherwise I wouldn’t feel my sister’s panic.”

  Jenna turned toward her. Her gaze scanning her wet robe then her face softened. “Are you okay? Ash, do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly.

  “I’m fine,” she said then shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about what had occurred. Not with her sisters, not with Clyde.

  Jenna turned away from her again and addressed Clyde. “I thought you were my best friend and her guardian? Why, Clyde?”

  “I just asked her a question,” he said, defensive. His eyes met hers and held then they softened.

  She read the regret and remorse clear in his bright blue eyes.

  “I didn’t mean…I just—” He hesitated then ran his hands through his hair. “I—”

  Ashley swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Jenna, it’s okay,” she whispered. “Can you give us a moment alone? I need to talk to Clyde.”

  After Jenna and Lucas left, she swallowed past the lump in her throat garnering the strength to speak. Before she could, he did.

  “I’m…I’m sorry, Ashley. It’s none of my business,” he said solemnly, then walked away before she could utter a word.

  She stood immobile for several seconds. He was gone, but the tormented look on his face haunted her. It hurt him to see the scars knowing no one had been there to protect her. As her guardian, she hadn’t expected anything less.

  She never wanted to reveal how she’d gotten the scars, but she knew he knew. He’d figured it out. Being an angel meant he had seen it all, observed humanity, mortal and immortal alike for centuries. What he didn’t know was her story.

  There was no hiding the truth any longer and well past the time she confided in someone. She needed to tell him even if it meant he’d pity her, even if it meant he would never again look at her like she was the only woman in the world. Not that it would make a difference, as of late, he barely spoke to her. She trusted him, always had, and she’d come to realize she loved him, deeply, profoundly and completely with every fiber in her body.

  That was why he deserved to know.

  ****

  Clyde sat on the bed in his room, motionless. He didn’t want to think of the multitude of ways she could’ve been scarred, but unwillingly the images continued to drift through him, drowning him in sorrow for all Ashley had endured.

  He wanted to believe it had been an accident and tried, despite the odds against it, to convince himself it was, but in his heart he knew it wasn’t. If it had been, she would have told him immediately.

  If only he could read her, he wouldn’t torment himself for the rest of his eternal life. Only then, he would know who deserved to die. Only then, he could seek revenge.

  The door to his room opened, and the woman who’d taken a hold of his every thought entered. He tensed.

  “I’ll tell you,” Ashley said, taking a seat on the edge of the couch in his room. He stood, closing the distance between them and sat on a chair directly in front of her.

  She took a deep breath then said, “Remember when I told you I was adopted?”

  He nodded.

  “I was adopted by my parents when I was four. We moved to Boston. They were great parents really, but then my mom died when I was ten. I told you about how my dad was never the same after that. He loved her so much and missed her. I guess to dull the pain he started drinking…a lot.”

  She paused as if gathering the strength to continue.

  “It started right after the funeral. He would drink every day. Luckily, the bus would pick me up and drop me off at school, so I didn’t have to worry about him driving drunk. I tried to clean and do laundry and everything else, but I guess I didn’t do it like Mom. He would get angry and yell and throw things. One day, I was doing the laundry...” Tears welled in her eyes then slid down her cheeks.

  His chest constricted. He knew how this story would end. Repeatedly, over the centuries, he had witnessed it. He took a deep breath then exhaled, attempting to pacify the rage that had reignited inside him.

  “Somehow, the shirt my mom would sleep in ended up in there. It smelled like her, and when he found out I had washed it, he just lost it. He…” She wiped away a tear and folded her trembling hands, then continued, “He g
rabbed me by the back of my shirt and dragged me to the kitchen. A sliding glass door led to the backyard. He told me that I was grounded and I had to sleep outside. I guess, in his state, he forgot he hadn’t opened the door and threw me against it. It shattered cutting me…” Her voice faded as a river of tears overwhelmed her and streamed steadily down her beautiful face.

  His heart tightened in his chest, her pain slicing through him as if it was his own. He would relish her pain if it meant he would endure it for her forever, if it meant she’d never feel it again.

  He glanced away from her, fighting for composure, fighting to control the rage threatening to spew. He couldn’t risk scaring her with his temper—a temper that probably reminded her of her adoptive father’s drunken abuse.

  When he looked at her again, her eyes were stark with the dreadful memory, her face anguished.

  “I was bleeding a lot, and I tried to move, but I couldn’t because there were pieces of glass everywhere, some lodged into my skin,” she said. Tears continued to flow, then she buried her face in her hands. Her whole body seemed to shake.

  Clyde ached to hold her and comfort her but couldn’t. Her admission drew equal parts of scorching pain and blinding rage. Devastating and debilitating.

  After a long moment, she lifted her head to face him again. “I don’t know how long I was there, then I guess from the pain I passed out.”

  The image of her, ten years old, lying in a pile of glass floated through his mind and wrath churned inside him anew. He clenched his jaw trying to prevent himself from leaving her to find her adoptive father and kill him.

  “I woke two or three times. I was still at home then the last time I woke I was in the hospital. The doctor in the ER notified the authorities. I denied it had been anything but an accident because it was.”

  “It was not an accident!” Clyde shouted.

  She jumped, startled by his outburst.

  He breathed in and out. His expression softened, and he grasped her hand. “I’m sorry, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t an accident. He knew.”

  When more tears slid down her cheeks, he knew her story was still far from over. He only hoped he could control himself until she was done.