Megan Hart - An Erotic Collection Volume 2

She didn’t want him to go, either, but nothing about this had ever been promised as permanent. “So stay.”

He didn’t say anything after that, and neither did she.

* * *

Seventh night, eight candles.

She watched the candles, their flames bright and steady and strong. The candles in her grandmother’s menorah weren’t fancy and hand-dipped, but they lit her kitchen as they shone through the window to the world outside as prettily as pricey candles would’ve.

“Pretty.” Zach had come up behind her to put his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

They’d barely bothered with clothes at all today. The warmth of his belly pressed Lilly’s butt, and she pushed it back against him and smiled when his cock stirred. She turned her head to look at him.

“It always is.”

“Yes.”

Together they watched the wax dripping, the candles burning. Zach linked his fingers through hers and laid them flat against her belly. Lilly was considering making something to eat-her pantry had been sadly depleted by this near week of forced seclusion. The weather forecast had called for warmer temperatures and the governor had called off the state of emergency, but tonight was Friday. No work tomorrow even if it all melted away in the night.

Earlier she’d called her mother to wish her happy holidays and reassure her that she was fine. She hadn’t mentioned Zach. That would’ve opened up too many questions she wasn’t sure how to answer. He’d listened to the conversation but said nothing. Until now.

“Your family would want to know who I am. Your friends. You have a life I’m not a part of, Lilly.”

She didn’t turn, just pressed his hands more firmly to her belly and her back against his chest, her ass against his crotch. “We can figure out something to tell them.”

“Lilly.” His voice turned her. His gaze, concerned, pinned her. “One of the things I find so appealing about you is your ability to find the brightest side of any situation. But my time here is almost finished. And there are things we have to talk about before that.”

“I don’t want to.” She shook her head, broke his grip. Stalked away. “I know this is all some sort of fantastic, crazy thing. I know it, Zach. But why shouldn’t it be? Why should something that feels this good and right be anything less than fantasy? And I want to hold on to it for as long as I can. Is that so wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head, watching her. “But we have to talk about this. My time here is almost finished, whether I want it to be or not.”

“Why did you come here?” She threw the words at him as she backed away, her arms crossed. Wishing she’d put on a robe. Wishing a lot of things.

“I told you-”

“Why me? Of all the millions of people on Earth, why me?” Lilly demanded.

He hesitated, but didn’t reach for her. “I want to tell you that you’re special. Words fail me, in every language, to tell you how I feel.”

She drew in a slow shudder of breath that dried her throat. “But I’m not, right? I’m nice and all, I get it. Oh, I have a great personality and my body’s fine, too, but there’s just something lacking, right? That’s it. Believe me, I’ve heard it before.”

“No.” She’d never seen Zach angry, but his brow furrowed now, his voice got low. Hard. “You are special. But you are not the only one. We are sent to where we’re needed. This world, your world…it needs help. And we are sent to do our best to help where we can. It’s necessary. It’s chesed. ”

Chesed . Loving kindness. Lilly took a step back, looking at Zach. Zachariah.

He followed her. “At the beginning of time, everything was light, contained in the vessels.”

“They broke.” So did her voice. Lilly knew the story, the Kabbalic retelling of the origin of evil. Grandma Lillian’s story. “Scattered the light here on earth. We’re supposed to perform mitzvot , good deeds, each one helping return one of those bits of light to its origin. I thought it was just…a story.”

“It’s tikkun olam . Repairing the world.”

She knew the words but hadn’t expected in a million years, no, in ten million, to hear them coming from his mouth. She drew in another breath, fighting to keep herself steady and unable to, until Zach’s hands were there to keep her from falling.

Blinking to focus, she looked at him. Now she understood how he’d become so beloved to her, so fast. Why he’d been naked in the snow.

Why he’d fallen.

“Turn around,” she told him.

He did, obedient. He was tall, but not so tall she couldn’t stand on tiptoe to pass her palms over his shoulder blades. His skin was smooth to the touch, but looking now in the kitchen’s bright, work-strength light, Lilly leaned closer. She studied his skin, saw the faintest of scars he bore, instead of wings. They grew harsher as she watched, then faded to nothing.

“I never looked,” she murmured. “Not that closely.”

“You didn’t want to see tentacles or lizard skin.”

Lilly’s laugh crested on a surge of tears. He was teasing her? “I was worried about the wrong things.”

Zach looked over his shoulder at her. “It’s a manifestation, only. This body.”

She turned him to face her. “A solid body. A beautiful one.”

He nodded and put his hands on her waist, his head tilted as he looked down at her. “A temporary body, held just long enough to do what I was required.”

“For how long?”

He smiled and looked at the menorah on the windowsill. “Eight days.”

Lilly put her head on his warm chest. His heart beat under her cheek. “What a coincidence.”

“Not really. A great miracle happened there, remember?” His arms tightened around her. “It’s not my place to question the length of time we’re given on our quest.”

She stayed in silence for a moment or two. “And if you don’t succeed?”

“Have I failed you, Lilly?” He used a finger to tip up her chin so she could look at him. “You’ll have to tell me. I’ve been here too long, now, simply to know.”

She wanted to lie, tell him yes, so that maybe he’d stay. That seemed like a pretty bad idea, not to mention a selfish one. So instead, she closed her eyes and let herself…feel.

She hadn’t done that for a long time. Simply given herself permission to open her heart and mind to her emotions and let them fill her. She’d spent too much time pretending she didn’t ache inside, and it was difficult, now, to recognize that instead of pain, she felt peace.

She opened her eyes. “No. You didn’t fail.”

Zach brushed her hair off her face and cupped it with his hands. He kissed her, soft and slow. “I’m glad.”

Lilly kissed him, too. “But sex? Really, Zach? I’m pretty sure that’s not what they taught me in religious school.”

“There’s nothing as sacred as the joining of two bodies in celebration of love,” Zach said, totally serious yet with eyes twinkling in mischief. “Let’s just say not everyone requires the same attention I gave you.”

“Huh.” She tweaked his nipples until he laughed, squirming. “So I’m not your first?”

Zach captured her hands with his, holding her still. “Actually, you are. Not all of us are chosen to serve here.”

“But I was chosen? For you?”

Zach hesitated again. His kiss was harder this time, though sweet all the same. He pressed her against him, naked flesh hot on hers. When he pulled away, his dark eyes blazed with passion, setting spark to her own.

“No, you weren’t chosen for me. I chose you.”

“I think that is the sexiest, most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” Lilly told him, and as she’d done that first time, jumped into his arms.