by Eve Langlais
“Well, it’s not like you’re going to go hungry,” I joke, reminding him that we angels don’t need to eat.
“Bellamy, I need you to be serious. Lately the only thing that you’ve been concerned with is being Omari and finding that psycho fugitive, Knight.”
“Knight killed his girlfriend in cold blood. He watched as a mixture he gave her sucked the soul right out of her body. He’s a dangerous angel, and yeah, I will do whatever it takes to make sure he pays for what he did.”
“Doing whatever it takes even if it means putting us at risk?” he asks.
“No.”
“Then why do you keep doing it?”
“You and I are fine,” I reply as I take his hand.
“Really?” he challenges.
“Yes.”
“What’s Knight’s favorite hangout spot?”
“C’mon, Derek, you’re acting like a child,” I scold.
“Indulge me. What’s Knight’s favorite hangout?”
“An angel and demon bar called Flesh & Fools,” I reply reluctantly.
“Where was he last spotted?”
“Derek,” I warn him.
“Where was Knight last spotted?” he insists again.
“In America, just outside of Wyoming.”
“And what kind of Coy does Knight like to drink?” he asks.
Coy is an alcoholic beverage for angels. There are different flavors like Euphoria, Bliss, and Serenity. But there are also demon flavored drinks called Coy Dark, with such flavors as Wrath, Regret, and Hate.
“Knight drinks Coy Dark.”
“What flavor?” he adds.
“Revenge.”
“Bellamy, when was the last time you had a conversation without saying the name ‘Knight’?” he accuses.
“That doesn’t mean anything; tracking him down is a part of my job,” I explain.
“What’s the song I told you I haven’t been able to get out of my head all day?”
“Um…”
“When’s my birthday?”
“What? I know your birthday. It’s December twenty–oh shit, I’m so sorry,”
I reply, covering my mouth.
How could I forget Derek’s birthday? What kind of girlfriend does that?
“I messed up, I’m sorry. Things are crazy at work. We have to find Knight,” I tell him.
“You mean you have to find him.”
“What are you saying?”
“Getting this guy is more than a mission for you. It’s like a personal vendetta or something,” he points out.
“Elizabeth loved Knight and he betrayed her. He will pay for that,” I vow.
“You didn’t even know her. You’re taking out what happened to your sister on this mission.”
“This has nothing to do with my sister. All I want is for Knight to pay for his crime,” I snap.
“Maybe, but right now, we are the ones paying: you and me.”
“Derek, this mission is important to me. I want you to get behind me.”
“I’m one hundred percent behind you. But I don’t know how much longer I can do this–I don’t want to be in this relationship alone.”
“I know things have been hard lately, but next to the source of all evil, Malakaro, Knight is the most wanted fugitive out there. Getting him would be a huge deal for me. I need you to be more patient,” I remind him.
“And I need you to be in my life. But you’re not. You’re having an affair with your job and I’m sick of getting left behind.”
“I’ve been working my ass off to join the Omari. You know how hard it is for me being the only woman on the team.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like I’m some unsupportive asshole. I have stood by you and I will continue to do so because I believe you. But you are drifting away from me––from us. And the further away you are, the closer you are to Knight. I feel like I’m competing with a murderer for your attention. I don’t deserve that.”
I hate arguing with guys only to find out in the middle of it that they are right.
“No, you don’t deserve to be pushed aside,” I reply as I take his hand.
“Then tell me that you and I are going okay and that Knight won’t come between us,” Derek says.
“Knight will get caught. The Omari will see to that. However, right here and now, you are my focus. I have a job for you,” I purr.
“And what’s that?” he asks with a devious smile.
I signal discreetly towards my breasts. Derek loves how full and supple they are. He always teases me because my nipples tend to go inward and they won’t perk out without being coaxed by his tongue. I lean towards him, place my hand on his thigh, and whisper in his ear.
“Can you help the ‘girls’ to come out and play?”
“Gladly,” he replies.
He grazes my thigh lightly as he nibbles on the base of my neck. I close my eyes and let my head fall back. There are very few humans left in the restaurant, but Derek suggests we go somewhere more private.
Why is he breaking the mood? There’s hardly anyone here.
I sigh, but put on a smile. The fact is, Derek was never really the adventurous type. But just once I’d like him to take me without seeking consent. I want him to split the buttons on my blouse between his teeth, tear the soft fabric in half, and peel away my bra by sliding his tongue between the lace of my bra and my flesh.
I want him to stop going down the path he normally goes to get me to have an Arc: angel orgasm. I want him to be spontaneous, reckless, and hungry for me. I’d die to have him licking places he’s only grazed before, suck on body parts he’s only kissed before, and spend hours visiting parts he normally stops by and says a quick “hello” to.
“I don’t want to go home, I want you now. Right now,” I tell him as we stand up.
“You mean right here?” he asks with uncertainty.
“There’s a coatroom in the front and a ladies room larger than most homes out back. Your pick,” I encourage.
“You’re so silly, Bell. Seriously, let’s get our coats and go back to the hotel,” he says as he flags down a waiter and signals for the check. Disappointed, I smile slightly and go along with his plan.
I mean, I can’t really argue with him. First of all, I missed his birthday. Second, he did drop the marriage issue, at least for now. And third, I have cancelled more times than any one being should forgive. I sigh and resign myself to another night of “okay” sex.
Once we are outside the restaurant, he takes my hand and we start walking down the streets of Paris. I do love him, although sometimes I wish there were parts of him I could change. It’s just as well, I’m sure there are many things he’d love to change about me. Anyway, sex isn’t all that important. What matters is love, commitment, and support.
And vibrators. Vibrators matter too.
Angel vibrators are called Kandy. And believe me, I’m a woman with a sweet tooth.
It can be so frustrating sometimes because I don’t want to hurt Derek but I need him to be more commanding. I need him to reach heights I’ve only ever reached alone.
I’ve tried lingerie, sex toys, and role–playing, but nothing works.
Is it always going to be this way? Am I always going to want more passion than he can give? I’ve tried to stoke his fire but so far, no luck. Should I lower my expectations and just accept that Derek is who he is?
I could get another guy, but again, I love Derek. He is the first to praise me for doing a good job and the last person to ever judge me when I mess up. He’s intelligent, always makes me laugh, and he’s not threatened by me. He’s a great listener and he’s selfless. Would you give all that up for a good orgasm?
Wait, don’t answer that.
Much like humans, faking an orgasm for an angel is hard work. It’s called Pumping. When we reach orgasm, a plasma–coated sphere appears alongside us; the bigger the orgasms, the bigger the sphere.
If I didn’t fake it, the sphere would never even appe
ar.
In order to fake it, you have to really concentrate and think of something that makes you deliriously happy. That fools an angel’s soul into thinking it’s reached the highest levels of bliss. If the couple is really into each other, they will temporarily exchange a physical trait.
Sigh. That would be great: mind–blowing, power–exchanging sex.
My cell vibrates as we walk along the picturesque cobbled streets. I pick up, speak for a few moments, and then hang up. Derek looks at me, shaking his head.
“Don’t tell me you have to go,” he says.
“I’m sorry. Knight has been spotted.”
“Where?” he asks.
“In an abandoned cabin deep into the mountains.”
“So, you’re canceling, again,” he says.
“I will make it up to you, I promise.”
He lets go of my hand and keeps walking.
“You can’t seriously be throwing a fit because I have to go to work,” I shout, getting angry.
“You think I’m really that petty?” he says, turning to face me.
“Well, if it’s not that, then why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad; I’m tired.”
“Tired of what?”
“Bellamy, the only time you smiled tonight, the only time your eyes really came to light was when Knight was spotted. You didn’t wear that smile when I proposed––which I still haven’t gotten an answer to. You didn’t even smile like that when I said let’s go back to the hotel.”
“I’m happy we have a lead, is that so wrong?” I ask.
“What’s wrong is that the excitement that should be reserved for us has been spent on him. You only enjoy hearing about one angel and it’s not me,” he says as he starts to storm off.
“I don’t want our date to end like this…” I reply softly.
He turns to me once again and speaks with a slight anguish in his voice.
“Bell, we keep going like this and the date isn’t the only thing that will come to an end…”
***
Not long after, I take to the sky, my wings gliding gracefully in the air. Soon, I find myself on the snowy mountain ranges of Wyoming. The other Omari members are on their way. They told me to wait for them, but I thought I’d survey the area in the meantime. If Knight really is hiding out here, I want to be among the first to find him.
As I make my way up the icy, rocky mountain path, Derek’s faces flashes in front of me. I’ve never seen him so upset before. Hurting a guy like Derek is like running over a puppy. There’s just no reason for it. Yet I feel as if I keep doing it more and more.
Was he right about my smile? Did I only get happy when Knight was mentioned? He thinks I’m obsessed with a murderer. But in truth, I’m obsessed with my work. I would be this intense no matter who I was going after.
Really, Bell?
Okay, so maybe once in a while, when I read about Knight and how he once again evaded capture, I get a little…twinge. It’s nothing major. Mostly I’m furious that Knight is still at large. But yes, some small part of me admires his battle skills and flight maneuvers. But that doesn’t mean I’m obsessed.
What about last week?
Damn it! I wish to Omnis I could turn my mind off sometimes but I can’t. And before you ask, last week I had a dream of sorts. Angels don’t dream every night like humans do. In fact, it’s rare for us to dream at all. But once in a while when something is just etched in our brains…
Okay, so I had a dream about Knight, so what? That goes with wanting to be good at my job. It means I have work on my mind.
What you and Knight were doing in your dreams had nothing to do with the Omari, Bellamy Ann Parker, and you know it.
Okay, so my dream wasn’t work related. What kind of angel dreams about a fugitive? And what a dream it was. It was so vivid and felt so real; I can’t help but see it playing out as if it is happening right now…
It starts out in a room with high vaulted ceilings, dark hardwood floors, and a large window seat that looks out onto the Paris street below. Across from me are double French doors with soft white curtains.
I’m sitting on the edge of the window seat wearing a sheer white teddy that barely covers my thighs. I unlatch the lock on the window and open it slightly. That causes the wind to blow into the room and reveal an imminent danger. Knight. He has been standing behind the curtains the whole time, watching me.
His massive, powerful wings seem to span the entire length of the room. He stands at an imposing six feet three inches. He’s wearing jeans and nothing else. I follow the lines of his well–defined pecks all the way down to his eight–pack abs and V–shaped torso.
His muscular arms and rock hard thighs warn of his incredible strength. His large hands are partially hidden in the pockets of his jeans and call attention to the large male hardness between his legs.
I want to go apprehend him and take him back to my team, but I can’t move. I can’t move because in addition to his commanding, larger–than–life stature, his brilliant electric blue eyes forbid me to move. Somehow this criminal is able to control me from across the room.
I swallow hard as he walks slowly towards me. I look up at him. His eyes remind me of raging blue flames. Once our eyes meet, it’s impossible to pull away. Knight is talking to me without saying a word. And make no mistake about it, he isn’t giving suggestions; he’s giving orders.
He wordlessly tells me to lean back against the wall. It never occurs to me to object. My body is no longer my own. Knight has taken my thoughts, my mind, and my body hostage. The fugitive owns me, wings and all.
I do as I’m told and lean back against the wall. His eyes study every inch of my body, from my red nail–polished toes to the curve of my breasts. I feel more heat from his ardent stare than I have from any man’s tongue.
When he gazes at my nipples through the sheer white fabric of my teddy, he parts his lips slightly as if thirsty. My nipples harden with anticipation. He leans in closer and sweeps the ball of his thumb across my lips. His touch causes electric sensations to zip throughout my body. He continues to take trips across my lips with his thumb. Unable to withstand the desire surging through me, I take his finger in my mouth.
I taste him one finger at a time; slowly. By the time I get to his middle finger, I’m part lightheaded from ecstasy and yearning. My wings are flapping wildly against the air as I spread my legs, desperate for more of him.
He brushes the tip of my hardened nipple with his index finger as he works his way down my body. He slides my white lace and satin panties from between my legs; slowly. I long for him so much it aches. Finally, he slips my panties past my toes and onto the floor.
Knight kneels down before me and lightly grazes the walls of my inner thighs with his lips. Every time he makes contact with my skin, a rush of pleasure overtakes me.
He then dives deeper between my legs and licks the folds of my entryway in a circular pattern. I gasp and let my head fall back.
From the corner of my eye, I can see an old lady looking at us from her window across the street. In fact, there are a few open windows across from us with nosy humans. I don’t care. I can’t tell Knight to stop. He does what he wants. And even if I could get him to stop, I wouldn’t want to. I would die if he stopped. I would die.
Without warning, he roughly pulls me towards him. He is now ensconced between my thighs and has full access to my moist mound. His masterful tongue seeks out the swollen tip of my center. His movements are skillful, precise, and thorough. He finds what he’s looking for and taps it lightly. I cry out as ecstasy rocks my whole body. I bang the palm of my hand against the window as he taps my center.
Again.
Again.
Again.
“Knight; mercy, please,” I beg.
My plea only fuels him more. He sucks on my engorged mound so deeply, jolts of pleasure erupt between my legs and spread though my body, causing me to jerk uncontrollably. He teases me by slowing down, only to spee
d up again. He licks inside me lightly for a few moments but only to penetrate me forcefully with his tongue yet again.
He feels so good inside me; I start to swear in a language that has yet to be invented.
“Are you fucking crazy, get down!” someone yells, pulling me out of my fantasy.
I turn around just in time to see a demon hurl his fireball at me. There’s no time to react. The being that warned me leaps into the air and tackles me to the ground. The fireball whizzes by my head and lands a few yards away.
Knowing there’s no time to get up, I remain on the ground, open my palm and a Powerball springs from my hand and heads straight for the demon. The demon takes a hit on the shoulder. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing to come after me. I launch a string of Powerballs at him and he falls to the ground only to have two dozen other demons emerge from the wooded area.
“You take the ones in the open. I’ll go after the ones in the trees,” the being says.
As fireballs whirl around us, I get up from the ground and look at the being who’s rudely giving orders.
“Knight!”
“Yeah, have we met?” he asks as he aims at the surrounding demons.
“I’m part of the Omari. I’m here to take you in,” I shout, still shocked that the Para angel standing before me is real.
“Great pickup line, sweetheart, but now’s not the time to come on to me,” he says.
“What? I’m not–”
“Cover me!” he shouts as he takes off into the forest.
***
There are too many fireballs whizzing overhead; I don’t have time to argue with the fugitive. I take to the air and hurl Powerballs at the demons determined to destroy me.
I’m able to take out three of them effortlessly. But the fourth one, with the crew cut, is more skillful than the others.
“Crew cut” darts into the forest and hides in the thick of the trees. We are trained to maneuver and track in many different settings, including the forest. The demon may as well be out in the open.
“Don’t move,” I order as I sneak up behind him with a Powerball fully loaded and ready to go in the palm of my hand.
