Love Lust and Angels (Parts 1 - 3) Read online

  Love, Lust & Angel's Series

  Parts 1, 2 & 3

  “Reveling in my Angel”

  “Savoring my Angel”

  “Needing my Angel”

  Written By: Y Correa

  All rights reserved

  Copyright ｩ Y. Correa 2012-2013

  Part 1 – Reveling in my Angel

  Unlike most days (this one drastically different than most) she just sat there – staring into the grand abyss. Everything the same, yet everything different. Everything known, and everything unknown. As she sat, it occurred to her that everything she thought that she knew about this world was a lie—utterly and completely wrong. She knew nothing! Sitting upon the small and low set cliff which lined a great freeway, she stared into what she used to consider her home. But this was not her home. She didn't belong here.

  Cars came and went, driving past, unaware that Naomi was watching them from just above. A gust of wind blew by, unhinging a single stand of hair from her pinned up mane and swept it across her face. The brisk breeze cause chills to cover her arms. Yet, the last thing that she was concerned with, at the moment, was the weather. Then, with a hand she tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, and proceeded with her quiet prayer. A prayer meant only to be heard by the universe and no one else, “I'm so confused. Why does everything in my life seem like it has been a lie? All these years, and now that my life is hanging by a string, I find out that it was all a fraud? Why? Was I not wanted? More than that: am I meant to die!?”

  Naomi, remembered while a single tear streamed down her cheek...

  *****

  Today: Just 4 hours earlier

  “Hey Doc!” Her cheery demeanor was unique to her, and it seemed like all of her salutations began with “Hey”.

  “Naomi. Good to see you. How are you feeling today?”

  “Still have that damned headache,” she said, then gave her doctor a weary look, lips pulled together in a thin crooked line, eye brows arched inward. “Can't scientists come up with something better than Tylenol?” She asked rhetorically. Her doctor gazed at Naomi's chart, eyes locked and shoulders slumped. Naomi noticed, then asked, “What is it Doc?”

  Her doctor paused for a moment, hummed in quiet thought to herself, then answered. “Naomi, I have some bad news,”

  “What Doc?” Her expression worrisome.

  “Your results came back, which is why we called you in,”

  “Doc, hurry up and get to the point already.” She blurted out, then composing herself, with a hushed voice she continued, “Please?”

  “You have a rare condition. It's called Agnogenic Myeloid Metaplasia, also known as AMM.”

  “Okay? So, what's that mean?” She continued with troubled eyes.

  “Well, it's a rare blood condition. Only one point five people in every one hundred thousand develop it. It affects your bone marrow, and your blood cells.”

  “Okay,” she inhaled harshly, then asked half in confusion and half in fear, “Am I gonna die?”

  “No, no,” her doctor blurted out, then rethought her answer, “Not if you get treated for it.”

  “What's the treatment?”

  “Well, we have to run more tests, of course, but the two most likely treatments are bone marrow transplant or blood transfusion. Bone marrow, being the most difficult of the two. You'd need to find a compatible donor.” The doctor spoke as she nodded her head in hopes that Naomi would understand.

  Naomi's eyes went blank, yet she nodded her head in unison with the doctor rather absentmindedly “So, who would be compatible?” She finally asked after what seemed like several minutes, though in actuality it was merely seconds.

  “The best donor would be an identical twin—which I know you don't have. The next best thing is a close family member. A sister or brother—worst case, mother or father. We prefer siblings because they share both of your parent's DNA—making them most compatible. However, they'd be tested to check compatibility, of course.”

  “Okay...” Naomi responded, her eyes moving from side to side as she visibly tried to sort things out in her head.

  “Naomi, I'm not saying that you need a bone marrow transplant—what I'm saying is, that it's best to get your ducks in a row, just in case you do.”

  “Alright... Okay Doc.”

  The rest of the appointment seemed to fly by and Naomi couldn't really remember most of what had happened—her mind full of thoughts and hopes: hoping that one of her family members would or could be a suitable donor.

  Just a little while later she was at her mothers house explaining the situation. She could see the mortified look plastered all over her mothers face.

  That's when she was hit with the biggest bomb of all...

  “Naomi my love,” Her mother started as a bead of sweat began to roll down her forehead, “you are adopted.” Her mother continued, eyes welling up with tears.

  “What?!”

  And just like that Naomi's world came tumbling down...

  *****

  Now, Naomi sat on the small, rather pathetic excuse for a cliff, praying to the universe, asking questions: questions that she knew no one could answer.

  *****

  Jeremiel watched over her from a short distance away. Invisible to the human eye, quite and contained. He was here for a good reason. He was sent to bring her mercy, grace, comfort. Jeremiel was a unique creation. Patron Arch of those in need, able to give mercy, visions and prophetic dreams, rendering direction to those lost in life's challenges. His name meant Mercy of God—such was his position and he held it with the utmost respect and great regard.

  He was also magnificent in appearance. Red hair, that grazed his shoulders with thick waves that fluttered about with every passing gust of wind. Bronzed eyes, that flickered with shimmers of purple. Rugged, sharp and chiseled facial features, with dark eyebrows—shaped perfectly. Skin, golden in hue and visibly silken—soft to the touch. The stature and body of a soldier of old, wide shoulders, thin waist, strong frame.

  Everything about him was so much more than amazing. Tantalizing, in fact. Yet, he was none the wiser. He carried himself with humility and tenderness, something befitting the Patron of mercy. He was soft spoken and gentle of demeanor. This was all the more attracting to the human race. Then again, it made sense. What human would feel comfort from a conceited and arrogant angel?

  Jeremiel watched Naomi, he wanted to approach her, unseen, and gave her a touch of mercy, a tinge of hope. Still, as average a human as she obviously was, (as she wasn't much different than you and I) he felt a compassion for her that was more than what he was used to. He felt a certain pull towards her. Something stronger than he'd ever felt towards any other human before—as if he'd been drawn to her somehow.

  Maybe he wasn't meant to hide himself from her. Maybe this assignment was different, he mused. Why else would he feel such intense interest in a human, if it weren't that he was in fact supposed to show himself to her? She looked like she needed more than just a touch, she looked like she needed a friend. A momentary companion. Someone to talk to: to help her through this tough situation.

  “Yes,” he whispered to himself, “I shall appear to her.”

  Taking the form of a man (by merely hiding his wings and becoming visible) Jeremiel, walked slowly and quietly up to Naomi “You seem lonely,” was all he said in a soft spoken, amity filled voice.

  Naomi jumped, startled by Jeremiel, “Oh Jeez!” She cried. “You scared the shit outta me!”

  “Excuse me, I did not mean to intrude, and much less startle you. I merely observed that you seemed lonely, and wanted to offer you some accompaniment and possible a bit of solace.”

  “What are you doing here?” S
he asked with a hint of anger, “I came here to be alone!”

  “Well, then you've come to the proper place, for no one walks along these paths.” Jeremiel pointed out happily.

  “You're here!” Naomi pointed out with a smidgen of contempt.

  “Does my presence pester you?” Jeremiel asked in pure intrigue “Ah, well then, I do apologize for I meant not to bring you dismay. I shall go and leave you to your thoughts and solitude. Forgive me, if you will, I beg.” Bowing and taking a single step back, Jeremiel swung his body around to walk off.

  “It's okay. You can stay... I guess.” Naomi uttered semi confused as to if she actually wanted the company or not, but didn't want her current agony to offend anyone. Sure, she'd come to this precise place to be alone, but if someone found her here in this place, then maybe it was meant to be. Maybe the universe was answering her prayers: so she decided to not let her feelings get in the way of the possible answer to her prayers.

  Jeremiel stopped in his tracks, and on a single foot spun himself around, “Very well,” he spoke through a smile, “So, what brings you here to this place, so alone?” He already knew that answer to the question, yet for conversations sake, he asked regardless.

  “Thinking.”

  “About...?”

  “Life.”

  “Hmm... I see. What is it about life that boggles you so?” He asked as he took a seat next to her on the edge of the cliff.

  Naomi, had not seen him very well until now. She was so focused on what she was thinking, that she hadn't taken the time to look up at the man that caught her by surprise. By the way that he spoke she assumed that he was a foreigner or an older man—but boy had she been wrong! He was not foreign and most definitely NOT old! As the matter of fact, this man was absolutely freaking gorgeous! That fact, seemed to startle her more than anything else, “Woaw!” She puffed.

  “Pardon me?” Jeremiel asked in confusion.

  “Uh, no... nothing,” she said, shaking her head, then attempted to start over, in order to answer his question, “Just life in general, I suppose.”

  “'Life is full of 'general's' which allows the question: to which 'general' are you referring?”

  “Good point,” Naomi pointed out, then tried again, “Loss, sickness, family, things of that sort.”

  “You've lost a family member to sickness?” Jeremiel already knew the answer, yet attempting to have her open up to him, he asked regardless. That would be the only way he could help her. Heal her, with much needed mercy and grace.

  “No, no. Not that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Okay... I'm just gonna put it out there. It's not like I know you—and what are the odds that I'd ever see you again in my lifetime. So don't think I'm crazy, okay.”

  “All right. Of course. As you wish... Please, proceed.” He said with a nod and a smile.

  She noticed that he had an amazing smile, perfectly suited for him. Then it crossed her mind, “How in the hell and why in the hell, would a man like this come and talk to me?” Of course! Just her luck! As soon as she started pondering her death, a beautiful man crosses her path! What are the odds?! So, then she began to explain, “Okay, so I went to see my doctor today. And I find out I have a rare and fairly incurable disease. The only treatments are a bone marrow transplant or a blood transfusion – so when I go tell my mother about it, in hopes to find a suitable donor, I find out that I'm adopted. Meaning, there is no way in hell that any one in my family could be a donor. In other words, I'm trying to face the fact that I wasn't wanted by my birth parent's and given away. And my imminent death,”

  Jeremiel, raised his eyes brows and shook his head lightly, then let out with a small blow, “Wow!” looking at her with tender eyes, he continued. “That sounds like a grave situation, indeed.”

  “Ya think?!” She asked sarcastically. Feeling bad after having spit out the two words in such a way, she quickly changed her composure and apologized. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't take my anger out on you. You're the last person that deserves it.” Then she turned her eyes once more onto the open expanse where stone met road, and began to talk with her true emotions. Her broken spirit, all honesty, all sincerity. “I just don't know what to do. Am I supposed to simply accept that I was just given away—not wanted!? That my family has lied to me all these years? And am I supposed to just face my death? Am I supposed to be okay with possibly dying, for no apparent reason? I don't think it's fair. It just isn't right!” With the last four words she grabbed a rock and tossed it over the edge of the cliff, “You know what I mean?” She asked.

  “I do,” he said, then leaned in, lifted a single arm and wrapped it around her, pulling her into his chest, comforting her that way. “It is all right to cry, if you must. Sometimes tears cleans the soul.”

  “I don't want to! I... I... can't!” She said with fever—she felt the need to be strong. She'd always been the strong one. She had always been everyone's rock. She was not supposed to cry, not supposed to be weak. Yet, being held the way she was, and trying as she might, she could not fight back the tears that inevitably began to fall and flow like a river of emotion down her face.

  Jeremiel, began to pet her head, comforting her to the best of his ability considering he was in human form. Had he been in his angelic form, the task would have been much simpler. Almost absentmindedly, Jeremiel, stroked her head, unwillingly loosening her curly locks, which fell in one drop to her face and sides. Jeremiel, began to try to sweep them away from her face, gently.

  Naomi, didn't know what came over her. This action of care from this man she didn't know, was amazing! Words couldn't describe the comfort she felt in his arms, caring for her as he did, even though he didn't know her. She had no idea why, it was the impulse that drove her—in her opinion, she had nothing to lose anyhow: so why not revel in this comfort? Why not take advantage of this moment? She may never have the opportunity to savor such a man as this ever again in her life – if she indeed was able to live her life.

  Without warning, she sat up, grabbed Jeremiel's face with both hands and kissed him. Not the best of kisses, mind you. Actually, a quite awful kiss as she wanted to do it fast before she changed her mind. Then just as fast as she'd planted the hard kiss on him, she pulled away. Face wet from tears, hair a tangled mess, eyes sharp but empty of any purpose other than what she'd just done, mouth gaped at the realization that she'd just kissed a stranger for no apparent reason... It had become obvious to her that as of late, nothing she did or anything that happened to her, had any sort of reasoning or purpose behind it.

  Jeremiel looked confused, flustered, yet he did not move. He didn't pull away. He didn't act harshly in any sort of way. Naomi was surprised that he didn't reproach her somehow. She was shocked that he still sat just as he was, only with a look of surprise written on his face.

  What surprised Jeremiel most wasn't so much the fact that she'd kissed him, as was his own reaction to it. He should have reprimanded her. He should have not accepted it, or done something to indicate that the action was not proper. But, he didn't! As the matter of fact, he did nothing. Truth be told, he wanted more. He could do nothing else, in his mind he silently prayed to the Higher Sources. “Forgive me my Majesties,” then he reached in, ever so slightly grabbing hold of Naomi's face (similar to how she'd done to him) and pulled her toward himself.

  He had never done this before, but something told him that the abrupt, hard kiss she'd planted on him was not the correct way of doing it. Something told him that a kiss was meant to be given with tenderness and care—so, very slowly and carefully he drew his lips near hers, then with the utmost of care, he places his lips over hers. Kissing her with the most delicate touch she'd ever experienced.

  Naomi exhaled a long sigh of bliss and disbelief. She'd never known a kiss as delicious as this before. She felt her knees go weak and was thankful that she was seated. She felt her body go a little limp in pleasure. With her face still just centimeters away from Jeremiel's she felt like she needed a
nother. So this time, she leaned into his lips in the same manner he'd done to her. This kiss lasted a bit longer, Jeremiel was willing and full of wanting, and Naomi was voluntary to oblige him as long as he'd like. Slowly she parted her lips, opening them up in order to reach for the taste of his mouth. Jeremiel did the same—tongues meeting in unison. Still tender, still delicate, still full of care.

  Jeremiel had never experienced something such as this. He'd never known what this was, and much less enjoy or savor anything like it before. But, this (whatever this was) that was happening between them, was unlike any pleasure he'd ever known. He wanted more. And Naomi: she needed more! They'd savor this together. Fulfilling each others needs.

  *****

  Somehow or another, they were no longer sitting on the edge of the cliff together. Sometime during their long and pleasurable kiss they got afoot and were now laying between some bushes together.

  Naomi flat on her back on the ground and Jeremiel on his side slightly above her. Contemplating her. She was beautiful, he mused. That much was obvious. Long, dark curls that flowed in rivers all around her – covering her in streams of beautiful hair. Smooth and soft caramel skin, which shined like bronzed, polished copper. Large, almond shaped, brown eyes and long lashes. High cheek bones and a birthmark placed perfectly on her right cheek. Full kissable lips and a glowing smile. Jeremiel wondered how a woman of such beauty could not see it. Everything about her was modest. Yet, that made her all the more lovely—all the more desirable!

  Jeremiel, grazed a finger across the bare skin of her arms, taking pleasure in her reaction to his touch. This must be the difference between humans and angels. Was this what the Higher Sources meant when they said “Be fruitful and multiply”? Was this the action, so well known to the humans as “mating”? Why was it that celestial bodies were not allowed to feel and bask in such pleasures?