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Andrea giggled as she listened to Sheriff Dan Brown explain about his coming into the diner for lunch and finding Myra and her sister-in-law Elizabeth Johnson worked up over the fact that Myra had allowed a total stranger to bring her lunch, without demanding proof of identification.
"Between the two of'em," the middle-aged lawman chuckled, "they have you being held hostage, raped, and sliced to pieces in the trunk of the man's car. I told'em they've been watching too many movies, but they insisted I check on you."
Laughing Andrea said, "I'm surprised you weren't sent out here with a posse."
"That's what they wanted, but I refused to make a fool of myself any more than I had to."
"Do you want his driver's license and social security numbers?"
Reaching into his back pocket, Jack took out his wallet and placed it open in front of her so that she could see his license.
"I do if I want to live."
She giggled and read him Jack's name and numbers. She then said, "Tell Myra I want my usual table this evening. We'll be there around seven."
"That'll please her. Talk to you later."
"I'm glad they watch over you," Jack commented as she closed the phone and placed it on the table.
"Me, too," she admitted. "So you've been living in Hawaii?" she asked, pushing his wallet across the table to him.
He nodded. "I'm a history teacher at Midway Academy. It's a private boys school. I also coach the Junior Varsity basketball team."
"And your real name is Jack?"
"That's what everybody calls me."
"So what's your real name?"
He told her and it sounded like something she couldn't spell, much less pronounce.
"Nice to meet you, Jack Anderson," she said dryly and held out her hand.
Chuckling, he shook her hand. "Nice meeting you, too, Andrea Dodge."
Resisting the temptation to not let go of her hand, Jack picked up his wallet and placed it back in his pocket.
"Hawaii doesn't seem like much of a punishment," she commented, stabbing a fry with her fork and taking a bite.
"And what would you consider punishment?"
She chewed her lower lip several moments before saying, "Making donuts all day and not being allowed to eat them. Or, working in a library and not being allowed to read the books."
"Those would be awful," he agreed, smiling, "but mine was just as bad. I was separated from you."
Swallowing, she said, "You really felt that intense?"
"Like my heart had been ripped out and shredded."
"Do all angels get that attached?"
"Attachment always happens," he explained, "but as a rule it's kept in control and not allowed to become anything like what I have with you."
"And what exactly do you have with me?"
He sighed and said, "A whole lot more than friendship."
"Oh."
She looked at her burger and took a bite.
He followed suit and they ate quietly for several minutes.
After she'd eaten six fries, (he kept count), she said, "So, does this mean you want to ... do things? Like kiss me?"
He smiled and nodded.
"Then, why haven't you?"
"You don't know me well enough, yet."
"You're old-fashioned," she replied, her tone neutral.
"I've been around centuries longer than you, yes," he agreed. "Does that bother you?"
She shook her head. "We're both adults. Age doesn't matter. At least not to me." She grinned. "You've aged well."
Laughing, he said, "Thank you."
She ate another fry and said, "How much will I have to know you before you'll agree to kiss me?"
He could see the sparkle in her eyes and said, "Oh ... a year should about do it."
"There's no way I'm waiting that long."
"Six months?"
She shook her head.
"Three months?"
"Not a chance."
"A month and a half?"
She giggled and said, "How about you tell me ten things about you and then you kiss me?"
"Five now and five later?"
"How much later?"
"A week?"
"Why put off a week, what you can do today?"
Laughing, he said, "Thing number one. In my basement there's an electric train track that I built. I have bridges, villages, farms, people and animals, all around the room. And I have thirty vintage train sets in my collection."
As they finished their meal and made their way through slices of apple pie for dessert, he told her about playing piano, driving a sixty-eight Mustang, watching old movies, and cooking. He elaborated on each briefly and then asked Andrea how her recent novel was coming along.
She told him about that and about the touring schedule she had coming up in September and ending the week before Christmas.
He then shared some stories about his adventures as a teacher and coach.
The time passed pleasantly and Andrea found herself feeling more peaceful and content than she'd felt in months. She felt so relaxed, she found herself struggling to keep her eyes open.
Jack must have noticed because he stopped in the middle of his story about taking his class on a field trip to Pearl Harbor and said, "Why don't you take a nap?"
Going to sleep was the last thing she wanted to do. Her nightmares were petrifying and she had no desire to ruin her good feelings with one of those.
"I'm okay," she said, smiling.
He studied her for a moment and said, "The heck you are. What's wrong?"
Sighing she said, "For the past month I've been having these freaking nightmares about the day Sam came to the house, and I wake up terrified. My psychologist gave me some pills, but I still wake-up. And it's really just stupid. I mean, I wait a whole year before I start having nightmares and I don't remember anything about that day other than him being there. The dreams always end as soon as he threatens to break every bone in my body. Then there's this bright light. And I wake-up screaming."
To her surprise, Jack sprang from his seat, lifted her into is arms, and began feather kissing her face.
"I'm so sorry," he mumbled. "This is my fault."
As curious as she was about his statement, she was more interested in his lips being against hers. It felt completely natural to press her lips against his and tease him with her tongue.
His responsive growl, as he opened his mouth to her, seemed to vibrate throughout her, and she shivered.
Kissing her opened up a dam of unleashed passion inside Jack, which sent his senses into momentary overload. He felt as though his entire body was igniting into flames and he was concerned about burning her, until he realized she wouldn't be able to feel the type heat raging inside him.
He then relaxed into the moment and, forgetting everything but pleasuring her, he concentrated on removing their clothes which, with his power, only took a few seconds.
Moaning, she wrapped her arm around his neck and rubbed her pink, erect nipples against the hard muscles of his chest.
Thoughts of taking her into the bedroom vanished. Instead, following his carnal instincts, he shifted her so her legs wrapped around him.
Her arms tightened around his neck as she whimpered, and began rubbing her soft, velvety heat against his swollen member.
His wings exploded from his back, and he wrapped them around her, stroking her with the feathers.
When she broke the kiss and cried out his name, he lifted her and then lowered her onto his hardness, until he completely filled her. He then leaned her backward into the cradle of his wings so he could cup her breasts in his hands. Massaging them, he flicked the nipples with his thumbs
Her body trembled as her muscles tightened around him.
"Oh, Jack!"
Lowering his mouth to her breasts, he took both nipples into his mouth together and began suckling them.
She gasped and rocked against him, sending currents coursing through him.
Growling, he placed his hands on her buttocks and began thrusting his hips.
When her body released, her euphonious cries sent him reeling over the edge and he filled her with his seeds.
Andrea opened her eyes. One of Jack's wings was behind her. The other was in front, draped across her. One of his hands was rubbing her skin from her shoulder down her left hip to her butt cheek. Between the silkiness of the feathers and his caressing fingers against her skin, Andrea felt as though she should be radiating light.
"That feels so good," she sighed. "Don't stop."
Kissing her neck, he slid his fingers over her tummy, stopping before he reached her wet, buzzing mons. When he continued this, without going as low as she wanted, she growled, grabbed his hand and guided it to her pussy.
"Miss Impatient," he said, chuckling.
Gasping, she thrust against his hand as his fingers began stroking her lips, sliding in and out of her, rubbing her clit.
As the tension built, her breaths grew shorter.
"Oh, Jack!"
"A few more seconds," he breathed, against her neck.
Myra
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