Painting Temptation Part One

Painting Temptation





I had been in a very dark place when I met my first angel, so I guess it was only fitting he be a ‘dark angel’. Of course at the time, I had no idea the handsome young attorney handling my just-departed father’s last will and testament was a bonafide angel—albeit a fallen one. He’d been disguising himself as an estate attorney for so long, no one, certainly not me, ever suspected there was ever anything supernatural about him outside of his incredible looks. From the soles of his feet to the part on his scalp, he was a picture-perfect physical specimen, and could have had just as lucrative a career modeling Calvin Klein underwear if he’d been so inclined. From the first moment I’d laid eyes on him, I was crazy infatuated with him.

After Daddy’s passing, he showed up practically tailor-made for me. He was exactly what I thought I needed at the time, riding to my emotional rescue like a knight on a white horse. He had taken my hand in my hours of deepest despair and had led me out of the vacuous pit of my toxic existence. With blind willingness, I had followed him too, letting him guide me down the slippery, sometimes twisted road heading to hell.

Thankfully it hadn’t ever come to that. In the past three years, our relationship had weathered the total disintegration of our status as a couple, not to mention the resulting episodes of true revulsion on my part, fearful mistrust, and comfortable absences from one another. Its current state was one of unrequited love, although maybe love was too strong a word for what he felt for me now since I’ve never been wholly convinced he actually knows what love is. I preferred to think of us as close, but wary friends--with an unfortunate, ever present, underlying sexual tension between us.

His name is Mazriel and he’ll be the first to tell anyone who’ll listen how much in love with me he is, bragging about it almost like how a kid shows off his first black eye. Mazriel would also be the first to tell you what a miserable state being in love had put him in and it wasn’t just the unrequited part either. Dark angels aren’t supposed to love anybody and I knew he got punished for it on a regular basis, but he seemed to embrace that aspect of his strange feelings for me just like he welcomed all the ensuing heartache those feelings caused him.

It was always hard for me not to respond to him when he talked about love; hearing those traces of sad longing and painful regret in his beautiful, melodic voice. It was hard too, not to actually feel something for him in return, and I did still care about his well-being, but I knew better than to let him know the full depth of my feelings for him. I knew he’d only torture me with that knowledge until I collapsed under the weight of his will and gave into him.

Despite our friendship, that was one of the reasons I didn’t go out of my way to keep company with him and even avoided him as much as I could. What Mazriel wanted of me was downright dangerous in more ways than one, and I’d learned from hard past experiences, he could be very, very persuasive when he put his mind to it. Old habits died hard and his love for me didn’t keep him from trying to trip me up in the spiritual realm because he saw my sinning as simply a means to an end and in a sense, a way to reclaim me. As it was, I had to constantly be on guard around him.

He and I remained an uncomfortable fit, but above all, we were friends. Time and time again, Mazriel was there for me when I needed him to be and he’d proven his devotion by pretty much doing anything I asked of him. He had even looked after me and protected me from harm on more than one occasion. I protected him too, keeping my guardian angel from punishing him for the havoc and mischief he created in my life. I had forgiven him and had even offered him what time, attention, and affection I could, and although such things didn’t seem to be enough to keep him interested in me, his feelings were unwavering.

Now, as I searched out his number in my phone, I wondered if I was taking advantage of those feelings, asking him for favors the way I did, knowing he’d more or less drop whatever he was doing to oblige me. He even drove a BMW now simply because I had once mentioned he seemed to be more of a BMW-type of guy. I guess I could be persuasive too when I wanted to be.

I had two phone numbers for him. One was his cell and the other was his office at the law firm. I knew he would be at work this morning since it was the middle of the week, but this was a personal call and I didn’t want to go through his secretary for it.

As I debated the pros and cons of calling one number over the other, my phone’s ringer suddenly blared out, startling me half out of my skin more than it usually did. One of these days I was really going to have to sit down and program in a ringtone that didn’t supernova the phone every time someone called.

Taking a steadying breath, I gave a glance at the number calling and shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Atlanta area code and Mazriel’s cell phone number, but I was. I answered it with a grin.

“Wow, Maz. I was just thinking about you,” I proclaimed, turning around to settle myself into the corner of my sofa for our conversation.

“I know,” his killer sexy voice purred over the line, sounding pleased. “You were thinking so hard, I could feel it. Which leads me to inevitably ask: what can I do for you, Mya, my lovely?”

I sighed, not liking the fact I only tended to call him when I needed him to do something for me, but unfortunately, it was true in this instance.

Being an artist by trade, I was often in need of models for new paintings I wanted to undertake and I knew Mazriel would be perfect for my latest project. He’d offered to pose for me before, but I was always wary of the prospect of staring at his nude body for hours on end without something…untoward happening between us as a result. Recently, I had more than set him straight about what I was going to allow from him regarding me within the context of our current relationship, so I did feel more confident about this remaining a strictly professional process, but there was no denying the fact, I still found him hot as hell. No pun intended.

I was going to just come right out and ask him, but then hesitated. I decided to feel him out first. Besides, it didn’t seem very polite to just up and ask him for another favor and not at least exchange a few pleasantries first.

“I’m sorry. Was I distracting you from anything important?” I questioned. He was at work and might have a meeting to go to or something.

“Not at all,” he replied. “I’m flattered the likes of me factor into your stray thoughts now and then.”

I rolled my eyes. If there was one thing I could always count on with Mazriel was that he could irritate me inside minutes of any given conversation we struck.

“Stop it. You know as well as I do, that I think about you way more than I should and if I were you, I wouldn’t be so quick to encourage that considering how it only strengthens our metaphysical connection—which hasn’t really been to your advantage lately.”

I heard a sound like a little throaty growl in response and had to smile. He had once used our mental bond to influence my thoughts and behavior, but he’d also strengthened the power cord running between us to the point I could get inside his head now just as easily as he got into mine. I hadn’t exactly figured out how to manipulate his thoughts the way he could mine, but I knew I could influence him certain ways, and lots of times, I knew what he was thinking and often felt what he was feeling. It helped me to know when he was lying about one thing or another. I also knew every time I thought about Mazriel, the bond between us got that much stronger which caused my guardian angel to warn me against it initially, but Mazriel and I had come to a mutual agreement regarding it. He had promised not to use his influence on me and I had promised to continue to grace him with my presence. So far, so good.

“Go ahead. Tell me what I’m thinking,” the angel said in a taunting tone.

I heard the creak of his desk chair as he apparently settled back into it and I could just picture him loosening his tie and stretching out his long legs in the process. There was no way of me knowing what he was thinking about when he was in one of these more blasé moods. His emotions had to be projecting his thoughts to me in order for me to ‘hear’ them, but I wasn’t about to let him in on that.

No matter. I had a pretty good idea of what might be on his mind at the moment as I figured I’d take a stab at it to impress him.

“You’re bored,” I began and licked my lips. “You’re bored out of your skull and you’re thinking about doing me someplace…unusual. Like in the alley behind your office building or in the lavatory of the company’s airplane.”

“Mmm, close,” he told me. “How about the dressing room at Sak’s? I have to go pick up a suit there later this afternoon.”

I grinned. “What happened? Did your nine o’clock will reading cancel?”

Now he laughed. “You really are good! It’s like you’ve got your own little window into my private affairs over here.”

I shifted the phone to my other ear and drew my legs up underneath me on the couch.

“Well, to be honest, my soothsaying was just an educated guess,” I confessed. “Aren’t you always picturing me in one sexual tryst with you or another?”

“It’s not my fault,” he said, his voice sounding like he was pouting after being scolded. “How can I keep from recalling those exquisite nights we spent making love at the Casa Monica in St. Augustine? Especially now considering the way I feel about you. It’s only natural that I long to make love to you once more.”

My mood abruptly sobered. “Only once?”

“I would make love to you as many times as you would let me.”

That made me think of something. “You know, it’s kind of ironic how we actually have more feelings for each other now that we’re just friends than when we were a couple. Let’s face it. We never made love, Maz. We were just more or less scratching an itch.”

He sighed as if in resignation. There was no denying the truth.

“I never anticipated actually falling in love with you, Mya,” he said, a solemn sadness leeching through his tone. “It would be so much easier on me if I hadn’t.”

“I know,” I agreed, sobering right along with him. “If I could wave some kind of magic wand and do away with this weird spell I’ve put you under, I would. As it is, I can’t fathom why you so much as bother with me anymore. Aren’t I a total bitch to you ninety-nine percent of the time?”

“Mmm,” he answered and it sounded like he was savoring that fact. “But it only makes me love you more.”

For a minute, I had to stop and really think about what he was saying. True to his nature, I knew he didn’t care for ‘nice’ girls. If his women had criminal pasts or were bitter atheists or like me, just total bitches who mistreated him, all the better. He certainly wasn’t about to waste his sexual fantasies on soccer moms—unless they were cheating on their husbands or dealing drugs in the schoolyard.

“I don’t mean to be mean to you,” I said, apologizing in general. “I could try to be nicer if you think it would help you get over me. I could always send you some homemade oatmeal cookies, or arrange to have your dry cleaning delivered, or I could send you Hallmark cards for your faked birthday.”

“Baby, please,” he muttered. “You’re making my skin crawl.”

“There, see,” I announced as if I’d just solved all our problems. “It’s already working.”

The dark angel knew me too well though.

“It’s all right. You can be mean to me. I know you feel you have to now and then to protect yourself,” he stated.

His implications were a little too close for comfort. I tensed and eased my feet back on the floor, leaning forward, feeling like I needed to get ready to spring up and run away.

“You’re wrong,” I said, trying to sound more nonchalant than defensive. “I don’t need to protect myself from you. I know someone I can call up anytime who will make you behave.”

I was, of course, speaking of Pershabael, the second angel I had met who turned out to be my guardian and had since become the most beloved person in my life. Pershabael had been my oasis in the hostile, barren desert I’d stranded myself in with Mazriel.

“But does he protect you from your own feelings?” the dark angel hinted. “Your feelings for me?”

What he said shouldn’t have caught me off guard, but it did. I could feel heat flushing my face just as chills pattered down my spine. I stopped myself just as I was about to lash out at him, knowing my anger would only confirm his suspicions. Instead, I took a deep, calming breath and threw myself back against the couch cushions. I grunted with frustration.

“You know, you say shit like that and it makes me reconsider asking you what I had originally called for.” I left it at that knowing his curiosity would get the best of him and force him to make amends just to get me to follow through.

His voice was as creamy and smooth as whipped chocolate pudding now.

“Forget I said that. You know how I can’t resist baiting you to get you to unleash all that beautiful, pent-up anger of yours. It’s what makes my heart beat after all.”

I couldn’t help but grin. He was so very predictable at times.

“Well, you can forget I even called because I don’t want to have to listen to you ‘baiting’ me for hours on end,” I countered.

I heard his chair creak again and could just picture him leaning over his big oak desk, his dark arched brows rising with intrigue.

“Hours?” he was quick to pick up. “Did you want to see me?” His voice sounded hopeful.

I hesitated. “Kind of.”

“What if I promise to behave all on my own?” he said with a laugh. “I won’t provoke you anymore. I’ll keep quiet. I won’t say a word.”

“Don’t go making promises you don’t intend to keep,” I told him outright. “Besides…I want you to talk to me. Just don’t be irritating.” I was sure that made him smile.

“What did you have in mind?” the angel went on, obviously hooked at this point.

“A nude painting,” I said in an exhale. “I got the idea the other day and figured you’d be the perfect model for this particular angel I want to depict.”

“Oh?”

He had said that word as coolly as if he were commenting on the weather, but I knew his heart had probably skipped a beat when he had heard what I had in mind for him. I was sure he’d believed I had called him just to see if he could get some boring information for me on city zoning or tax percentages. Stuff like that was what I usually called him for. I never called to invite him up to Idlewild, the old Gothic cemetery property my father had left to me in his will, or the renovated church rectory I had taken up residence in after moving to South Carolina from St. Augustine, Florida. I never called to ask him out or even to come spend time with me. His enthusiasm now made me regret that.

“Well? How ‘bout it? You interested?” I prompted.

“Of course,” he replied. “When do you need me there?”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight? Can’t it wait until the weekend?”

I frowned. “I know calling you at the last minute like this is kind of pushing it, but it took me that long to talk myself into using you. It’s a full moon tonight. I need the moon full for the right lighting and shadow-play, so I’m limited time-wise. I need to start this painting tonight. The weekend will be too late.”

I heard him sigh. “Even if I drove over the speed limit, I don’t think I could make it there before midnight.”

I must not have been making myself clear. “Maz, I um…was hoping you’d fly.”

“Fly?”

From the sound of his voice I knew I’d startled him with that. He was probably just realizing the full extent of the favor I was asking of him. Not only did I want him to drop everything he had planned for the evening, I wanted him to physically transform himself, fly all the way up here, and then strike a pose and maintain it throughout the entire night.

“I know, but…I want you with wings.”

He gave a light laugh. “I would like to think you purposefully laden that request with innuendo just to entice me all the more to fulfill it.”

He was incorrigible, but I’d happily play along if I could get him to comply. “Sure. Consider it laden. Listen Mazriel, I’m serious now. I need you to promise to cooperate once you get here. I want to get this idea down before I lose it. I’m going to be working around changing light as the night goes on so if I can just paint what’s in front of me and not have to create it, that will speed up the process and make the depiction that much more realistic. You in, or not?”

Apparently his arrogance took hold of him then and he must have felt the need to let me know he wasn’t at my beck and call. Not entirely anyway.

“Why don’t you have one of the heavenly denizens you’re so fond of pose for it then? At least you know they’d be happy to ‘cooperate’ and wouldn’t make you so uncomfortable you feel you have to…rush things.”

I sighed. I knew then I had pushed him a little too hard. It was time for a little ego-stroking.

“Because…none of them have the right look and without the right look, my painting isn’t going to have the same impact.” I thought about the angels who visited Idlewild over time and had so graciously posed for my paintings. Pershabael had been the subject of more than one of my nudes. I took a deep breath. “Those angels are all perfect and alluring in their own way, but for this, I need a certain dark sensuality. I need an angel who can seduce a saint. I need you.”

It was all true, but I was worried I might have laid it on a little thick. I wasn’t sure he’d buy it.

Then I heard him clear his throat and shift around a bit. Just as I was beginning to think he was about to politely decline due to the ‘behavior clause’ I’d insisted upon, he spoke.

“I’m leaving right now. I can be there just after sunset.” He paused and seemed to take a deep breath. “Just what are you calling this particular piece, if I may ask?”

A smile as wide as Texas spread across my face. I got to my feet, flipping the phone to my other ear.

“I’m calling it…Temptation.”

***