by Multiple
But was this why she couldn’t stop looking at the muscles of his butt as he drilled inside this woman with abandon? Did she not find something a little thrilling there, hearing the slap of skin against skin, the groaning of their combined lust? What would she do if he looked at her right now? Leave? Or beg to watch some more?
The moment was lost as a dapper man in a linen suit barged in, stunned by what he witnessed. The partial view of Audray’s soft flesh paralyzed him; but like Claire, he didn’t turn away, as would have been appropriate. Audray looked up and smiled at the stranger through the mirror over the sink, then drove a sultry look right into Daniel’s heart. Claire felt Daniel’s pain as well as the pleasure of his cock thrusting deep inside Audray, with a stranger as witness to his lack of control.
The man’s eyes widened. “Excuse me, I…” At last he released himself from the trance of Audray’s hold and closed the door without a sound.
“We seem to be attracting an audience everywhere we go.” Audray’s voice was deep and husky.
Daniel started to withdraw, but she reached around and pulled him into her again.
“I’m not done.”
When Audray was finally satisfied, Daniel was just spent. She dragged him through the full room of tourists by his belt buckle after he’d hurriedly dressed. The healthy chatter at the wine center had stopped abruptly as soon as Audray strutted across the room, Daniel in tow. Claire knew Audray liked it that way. The woman looked into everyone’s eyes with a triumphant smile, lording her sexual prize over any woman brave enough to return her gaze.
Claire couldn’t find one willing to do so.
Daniel’s dream screen faded to black so suddenly Claire had to catch her breath. His sleep was dark and deep. Now she understood the hold Audray had over this man. He was infected with their intense sexual relationship, and she could see why he had stopped painting. He had become obsessed with screwing his muse instead of having that muse inspire him. Audray never would be able to inspire any of the men she devoured. Her energy used them, drained them for her own satisfaction. His paints were relegated to the back of his mind somewhere, like the memory of a broken childhood toy. It made Claire sad.
It was disturbing hearing about Josh and his preference for angels. He must take special delight in turning them into his willing companions. No wonder Mother said he was powerful. She wondered if he made his own brand of dust, requiring the recipient to do his bidding. There had to be some physical tool in his arsenal she had never been told about at the school.
Claire was going to let Daniel sleep since his body was in need of it and she needed time to plan. But she was anxious to hear more about the story of this man’s journey into darkness. While she knew Josh was a dark angel, she would have to meet Audray in the flesh to determine if she was human or another of the dark angels.
Moonlight from Daniel’s single bedroom window filled the space, just like moonlight filled her own room in Heaven. Soothed by the milky white glow, she settled down to think. Some of her best planning time was spent while her charges were in a deep sleep outside of dreamstate.
Several minutes passed and then suddenly Daniel jerked and caught his breath as if drowning. Claire thought he would awaken. But he fell back deeper into the pillow and his eyes began to move back and forth under his eyelids, indicating he was beginning to dream again. She wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity. She dove in.
“You’re just like several other painters we’ve had. You’re a no-name, not like Beau. Why do you think we are always looking for new talent?”
Daniel watched Audray lace her fingers through the golden yellow hair he used to lose himself in. “But people love my paintings. You told me so yourself hundreds of times.” He could see she was unmoved by his plea, and she turned her back to him. He persisted. “You used to believe in my work.
“Used to, Daniel. Used to, as in past tense.”
That hurt. Something began to crumble inside him. “Look, I forgave you for fucking the guy. You made a mistake. Perhaps wanted to be caught. And I got angry, really angry. Look, I think we can work past this, in time. Let’s forgive each other, and move on. But the gallery…” I have nowhere else to go.
“For your information, it was not a mistake.”
Daniel’s insides boiled.
She lowered her eyes. He saw the kill shot coming. “Sure, you have talent. But no one is willing to fork out a penny for your great masterpieces. They look like crap that belongs in a child’s bedroom, not on the wall of a bank building.”
“And you think a toilet seat is more suitable?” Anger was rising in his veins.
“They sell, Daniel. They’re commercial.”
“So it takes a while to get my name out there. I wasn’t doing drugs, screwing teenyboppers, and taking off my clothes on stage to get famous. I was studying art. Learning my craft.”
“Craft? You call this craft? It’s shit and you know it. You guys start out great—the next Picasso—then just fizzle. Happens all the time. Just deal with it, and maybe stick to children’s books.” Audray was deadly in this mood.
And he was starting to believe her.
He felt alone and thoroughly worthless.
Claire’s heart ached at the pain in Daniel’s soul. She felt Audray’s bitter heart and saw bloody claws in Daniel’s chest. She’d never seen a man so torn apart by another woman before.
Daniel’s eyes moved again as another dream consumed him.
He stood outside his dining room window in the dark of night, face pressed against the glass, reflecting the orange glow of the fireplace. Claire saw he recognized the blonde, naked on the bench.
“Hairy asshole.” Daniel mumbled. Large hands dripping in black hair kneaded her white flesh. “Get your hands off her—” He said some things in Portuguese. Claire felt the pain in his chest, saw the sweat build up on his upper lip. Daniel’s fingers clutched and crushed leaves from a bush under the window ledge.
“She arches to his touch. She wants him…” The man’s mammoth hands dimpled the delicate white skin with fat probing fingers. Her red lips kissed him, everywhere. Claire swallowed as she saw Audray suckle the strange man’s member between her red lips.
In his sleep, Daniel groaned, and she focused her attention on his sleeping form instead of his dream world. In spite of the dream, Daniel was getting an erection in bed. His arm rubbed his groin above the covers. Claire’s cheeks turned bright red. She brought her attention back to his dream world.
The scene changed. The thick Henkel carving knife was balanced between his fingers. It gleamed in an unearthly patina as he turned it in silence. The blade was capable of effortlessly slicing through flesh. “I won’t have to press hard at all…”
Claire’s stomach turned as she watched him imagine the cut, dreaming about something that thankfully never occurred. The blood was warm. It spilled over his legs. She was certain every time she looked at that green bench that she would remember both scenes: love and death. The curse of being human.
“No more nightmares. Peace at last,” he murmured. She knew this was folly, but he was trying to kill off his own passion.
Claire could feel Daniel’s pain as he relived those hollow, sex-filled days. But she also picked up how much he missed the excitement and unpredictability of this woman. Audray was a complete distraction, consuming his thoughts. His desire for Audray came from a place of need, a true addiction. Claire blushed frequently at his thoughts, she did not view his appetite as being healthy. She could not remember a charge being so tormented.
Claire leaned over and laid her hand over his forehead and eyes, not quite touching. Warmth radiated up to her fingertips. She rubbed her thumb back and forth over her first two fingers, producing sparkles of dust, which fell to his face and on his closed eyes. He succumbed to a dreamless, deep sleep.
She smiled at the sight of his uncovered chest. She held her hand above it, feeling the warmth, and moved closer, looking at
the delicate black hairs leading down below his waist. His pajama bottoms had slid low, revealing a flat stomach with two delicious veins extending below. Her hands warmed and her fingers tingled. This was a new sensation, this tiny charge of electricity passing from his massive upper torso and traveling up her arms. He smiled, as though responding to her gaze, which caught her breath up short. The smile faded.
Claire laid her head on the pillow next to him to wait for other signs of a dream, but doubted it would be tonight. Next time, she would try to give him some color, something other than the vision of his own blood or the blonde he could no longer have.
It would be morning in a couple of hours. She stretched her arms and legs, just inches from his sleeping frame. His breath in her face was delicious. She was glad she never slept. This meant she had at least two, maybe three, hours of this Heaven on earth before Daniel’s normal routine took over.
Claire searched her feelings. Her desire to heal him remained strong and true. She knew she could do it, even with all the dark dreams. It was his passion she wasn’t sure about. Although it was uncharted waters, and perhaps a bit dangerous, her confidence lifted her.
Her search for adventure lifted her higher still.
When sunlight first began pouring into the window over Daniel’s bed, Claire watched Daniel pull the sheet over his head to protect his eyes. At last, she felt him surface and become fully conscious.
Claire held her breath as he sauntered to the bathroom and dropped his silk pajama bottoms. His smooth bottom was slightly whiter than his muscular thighs. His back rippled with definition she had never seen before on a man. An urge to run her hand over those smooth cheeks and press herself into his bronzed shoulders left her no choice but to get up and follow her eyes. She stood barely an inch behind him to see if she could feel the warmth of his flesh, and found she could. The nipples of her breasts twisted in little knots under her white gown.
He stepped into the shower, lathering up with that spicy citrus soap he’d used last night. It tweaked her nose, making her sneeze. She leaned against the bathroom wall, doing her deep breathing exercises, but found it difficult to resist the temptation of removing her gown and joining him. She had never experienced such a sensual attraction to a human charge. She was sure she would be breaking so many rules this time around.
Anything of value carries with it great risk. Father had told her that. There was always danger when she was learning new things about humans.
And it was exactly why she loved being Guardian above all else. Perhaps above the calling as Mother described it. It felt more like a pulling, an attraction. An irresistible urge to what?
To be part of something else. To blend…
Daniel swung the shower curtain back so fast her heart jumped. He stood before her, dripping wet. She felt hot angel blood flush to her face. She immediately exited to the bedroom to calm down, listening to the muffled sounds of the fluffy towel do its work. She would have liked to—
Stop it. She needed to exercise control, but slipped back into the bathroom, sure he was about to perform the ritual of shaving.
He looked into the mirrored cabinet and foamed up his face with fluffy white cream. Claire held her breath in anticipation of what was to follow. She was sometimes guilty of hiding her charge’s electric shavers. The sounds of the razor slowly sweeping over the fresh, menthol-laden surface of his cheeks and chin made her toes curl. She could have swooned. If he were mine, I would do this for him every morning, and again at night, if he would let me.
Steam came up from the hot water tap. His muscled forearm rippled as he rinsed off the razor once he finished. He tapped it three times against the porcelain edge of the sink.
He stared into the mirror. What did he see? Could he know she was standing behind him, that a droplet of the Mediterranean lime aftershave he used landed on her gown as he patted his cheeks? The moist air was as fragrant as any of the flower gardens in Heaven. The vision of his towel-clad body every bit as beautiful as the roses she picked. After drying his hands, he went to the bedroom. She buried her face in his towel and filled her lungs with his scent.
If he were mine, I would wrap myself in this towel and wear it all day.
What am I saying? Her friends would laugh at her if they knew this. But wouldn’t it be nice?
He dressed, then she followed him down to the kitchen where he poured himself some cold cereal and made coffee. Claire sat across the table, chin in hand, and elbow resting on the wooden surface. He bore no resemblance to the man she first met last night, like the journey she’d been on in his dreams had never taken place. She was pleased her healing hand had washed his soul.
He was rushing, checking his watch and hurrying out the door. He never looked once at the remnants of the destruction in the living room. Claire decided she would use the day to explore, mingle with humans in human form. She would go to the café she saw in the picture, or maybe to the gallery to see his paintings.
The instant Daniel left, Claire pulled herself out of her invisibility and walked in human form down the hallway leading from his bedroom, which was still filled with Daniel’s scent. She tore herself away, ascending the stairs to the attic, her yellow transport bag in tow. She could have willed herself up there, but loved hearing that delicious creak of the door as she pressed it open. She climbed the narrow stairwell like a human woman seeking a new adventure. It reminded her of secret rooms she had read about in castles in Europe.
The attic was tall at the roof’s ridge, but both sides sloped to a dormer and window. The little window she had seen from the street last night had an old wooden chair beside it, as if someone used to sit and watch who came and went. The place was dusty, but on the windowsill there was a fine layer of sparkling dust, like some gentle hand had pressed the glass, waiting for a glimpse of someone coming home.
Or, maybe that was just the story she told herself. Like one of her novels.
She touched the dust. It was from a long time ago. Had another angel sat there? Had she waited for her charge to return from his adventures in the human world? Did she succeed? Did she love her job as much as Claire did?
She set her bag next to the worn and scarred dresser in the middle of the room and tugged off her gown. She pulled on a t-shirt, then a hooded sweatshirt, and slipped into blue jeans.
Much better. She almost felt human.
Almost.
Chapter 6
Claire sat under an awning of the outdoor café, watching people hurrying down the sidewalk that shone from the morning rain. Wetness in the air melded with the smell of fresh hot coffee and griddlecakes. Even the smell of wet pavement was pleasant. I will miss this when I return. It never rained in Heaven; it misted.
She tapped her nails against the green and white-checkered plastic cloth that covered the little table as she searched the crowd for a familiar face from one of her previous missions. It could happen. But no, not today.
She felt alone in spite of the people surrounding her. She dipped her tongue into the soft whipped cream piled atop the steaming chocolate drink warming her hands. It was considered dangerous for angels to taste things, as that could lead to eating, which could eliminate an angel’s powers of invisibility. Yielding to temptation made angels visible. It wasn’t forbidden, just not advised. Eating was an aphrodisiac—at least, the way many humans ate was. The hunger inside them had nothing to do with their stomachs. This was a dangerous experience for an angel and could lead to a fall from grace.
But the scent of warm chocolate was one of her all-time favorites. Ignoring the danger and repeated warnings, she savored the way the sweetness caressed her tongue.
“That is just one of the sexiest things on the planet.” Josh had slipped in so quickly she hadn’t seen him.
Startled, Claire jolted, spilling a little of the warm mixture. She felt trapped in her human form, but remained seated and set the messy mug down. A small dollop of the whipped cream stuck to the tip of her nos
e. She reached up to dust it off but Josh stopped her.
“Ah, love. You’ve messed your face. I can help.” He rubbed it off with his forefinger, then put the tip of his finger in his mouth. His eyes danced with an unearthly fire. “Very sweet, very sweet indeed.”
Claire’s heart pounded so hard surely Josh could hear it. Bound by the rules, she couldn’t just disappear without people noticing: she was caught. Josh tilted his head to the side, squinting, as if he enjoyed watching her squirm. She had no choice but to talk to him.
“So now that we’ve met, what lovely name do I call you, or do I get to pick one?” His velvety smooth voice washed over her face and made her ears tingle.
Claire focused on her mug of chocolate, remaining mute.
“You know that when we turn a Guardian, we get to choose their name? Surely they taught you that in school?” The words rolled easily off his tongue.
Claire was confused and Josh saw it. She knew he had something to do with that, that his breath carried with it something that made her feel things…
She became distracted with his mouth…
Keep calm.
So this was something else they hadn’t taught her. Fear began to rise, pressing cool fingers all the way up her spine one vertebrae at a time.
Deep breathing. Keep on your feet.
“No?” he persisted. “I can see they didn’t. But maybe they don’t know.”
“And I’m not turned,” she spat out.
“Ah, lovely. She speaks. The angel talks to me.” Josh consumed her with a warm smile that sent a thin erotic cover over her whole body.
“I said, I am not turned,” Claire insisted, despite the tingle down her spine. The mental erotic caress was not unpleasant, but the circumstances were.
“Not yet, my lovely. Not yet.” Josh’s voice purred. “You’re much prettier than I thought. Most of you are too vanilla. I’m partial to redheads, but you probably already know that, if you’ve snooped in Daniel’s dreams at all.” He leaned into the table, whispering, “How’d you like Audray? Did they have you panting in the middle of the night, hmmm?”
