Part 5
Anxious for their night to begin Angel sat in his car, engine running; waiting for the stubborn sun to travel those last few inches behind the horizon.
Twinges of guilt began to tighten around his lifeless heart. I shouldn’t be doing this to her. I’m a selfish, egotistical bastard. No, this is her fault. I wanted her to stay. I wanted us to share our feelings. She’s the one that ran. I wanted us to explore this new level in our relationship. She’s the one pretending that nothing happened between us. I will not feel guilty about this. I know she felt it too and I’ll just have to force her to admit it. If she wasn’t so stubborn, we could be making love right now instead of wasting time playing games.
Angel slapped his open palms against the steering wheel, cursing the stubborn sun and the even more stubborn woman. “Damn it Cordy, you can’t hide behind your Queen C armor forever. That armor is coming off.”
Dusk; he punched the gas, squealing tires across the cold cement floor of the underground garage. The top to the convertible purposely left down, the cool evening air bristled across his skin as he traveled the open road.
The convertible slid next to the curb in a perfect parallel line. Leaping over the closed car door Angel took several unneeded breaths to calm his much too eager anticipation.
Three knocks and Angel heard the accelerated heartbeat echo through the wooden door. Opening the door, Cordelia’s sight was transfixed on the frighteningly, familiar attire she had not seen since his Sunnydale debut. Her eyes bulged, extended to the point of almost popping from their frozen sockets. The door slammed shut, the stressed wood vibrating against the vampire’s confused face. Locks and chains clicked and clacked, bolting him out.
“What the hell is this, a delayed reaction?” Cordelia yelled from her barricaded stronghold. And what the hell are you doing here? Did you forget the address? I have a street map of Sunnydale, I’ll slip it under the door; no need to return it when you’re done.”
Whatever the hell was going on with the frantic, young woman barricaded behind the locked door Angel couldn’t begin to fathom. Her heart was racing and fear radiated into the hallway. A street map, Sunnydale; realization dawning Angel scanned the silk, crimson shirt tucked into the skintight leather pants. He chuckled to himself, her reaction unexpected but entertaining just the same. The soul may temper the demon’s behavior but it didn’t impede its skill.
He had dressed his part down to the last detail. The clasp of the gold chain around his neck dangled one perfect pearl and one pure, ruby heart. A black onyx centered on a glistening gold band and surrounded by twelve flawless diamonds adorned the index finger of his right hand.
“Cordy, sweetheart; let me in. It’s me baby. You’re perfectly safe.” Angel’s declarations possibly more convincing had his laughter been better stifled.
“Yea right; like Angel has that kind of taste when it comes to his wardrobe.”
“Hey!”
“And sweetheart and baby? That’s not Angel. Angel broods and sulks. Angel is the slayer’s lapdog. He wouldn’t get all flashy with color without permission. You just scurry on over to Sunnydale with your revenge. That’s where the slayer keeps Angel’s leash.”
Lapdog? Leash? Oh you are going to be punished little girl. “Damn it Cordy open the door or I’ll break it down. Think about it Cordy I’ve already been invited in. Do you actually think your flimsy locks could keep Angelus out?”
“Humm…didn’t think about that. Ok then why are you dressed like that? Are you trying to get in touch with your gay side?”
“No! I’m dressed for my part in our case. You know the one I told you about on the phone.”
“Oh the case. You’re playing the part of a gay man in the case?”
“Jesus Christ woman I’m not gay; I’m a pimp.”
“A pimp? Then what am I?”
“Open the damn door and let me in and I’ll tell you.”
“Fine, but Dennis has a stake hovering close by with your name on it so keep your fangs to yourself.”
Cordelia walked to the center of the room motioning for Dennis to open the door. She had never seen Angel’s face red before. She didn’t know a vampire could get red faced no matter how pissed off he might be. Guess I’ll add that little tidbit to my vampire list of do’s and don’ts.
“Well don’t just stand there come on in Angel. You’ve already given the neighbors enough of a show for one night.”
“Me? You’re the one acting like a crazy woman. Never mind we’ve wasted enough time as it is.” Angel looked at the woman standing stiff; her arms crossed and dressed just the way she had threatened.
Cordelia was wearing faded jeans that were a little more baggy than her usual choice. An old cheerleading sweatshirt, two sizes too big, was draped over a cotton shirt that was buttoned all the way up to the snug collar.
“We’re already behind schedule and you need to get changed into something more appropriate…and less comfortable.”
“Well if you had told me we were having leather night I would have known how to dress.”
Angel stalked over to her, arching his brow with the leer of a dirty old man. “You have leather things? Why haven’t I seen them sweetheart?”
“Pfft. There’s a lot you haven’t se…oh… well guess you have…never mind. What is this case about and what’s my role?”
“You’re my whore.” Angel deadpanned, his face as expressionless as a smooth stone.
Cordelia’s body shook, her skin tingling from the barely contained rage. “Excuse me? What did you call me?”
“My whore. We’re going undercover. You’re a hooker and I’m your pimp.”
“A hooker? Why didn’t you just say that? A hooker is not necessarily a whore Angel. I’ve met a lot of girls at the Hollywood parties I go to whenever I get a chance. You know, on the rare occasions that I get to have a life. Anyway, they were very classy and upscale. They run a business and make good money. So I’m a hooker. No problem here. I can do the classy, high rent escort.”
You shouldn‘t be hanging out at parties with hookers. No more Hollywood parties for you young lady. “Not where we’re going sweetheart. There’s no class and no high rent. And you won’t be an escort. In this neighborhood you’re a whore and a cheap one.”
“Then I don’t have anything to wear. I don’t do whore and I certainly don’t do cheap.”
“Where’s the dress you were wearing the night I ran into you at that party? Let me see it; that might work.”
“Grrrrrr!” Her small diaphragm resonated a menacing growl that rivaled his own. Stomping toward her bedroom Cordelia tossed a warning at the exasperating vampire. “Stay here, I’m locking the door. You come near my bedroom and Dennis will impale you with that stake. Tomorrow I’m having your name engraved on it with the extra money you’re paying me for doing this.” The door slammed and the latch clicked behind her.
Angel settled himself on the sofa relishing the short time he could spend musing over the night ahead. His eyes traveled to the door that locked her away from him. He wanted to select what she would wear, instruct her to leave her hair loose with that tousled, just been ravished look. Angel groaned as he felt his erection press against the tight fitting leather. He should never have allowed the image of her dressed for his pleasure to form in his lust-filled mind.
Angel stroked the hard bulge willing it to go away. Tonight was about him playing her and he was already painfully aroused just thinking about her. He looked at the obvious wad behind his zipper; he couldn’t hide it. If he couldn’t will it away, he would have to excuse himself to the privacy of her bathroom and soothe it into submission.
He had to stop touching his crotch; it wouldn’t do for Cordelia to come out of the bedroom to find him fondling himself. Why not? Angel pondered. It‘s her fault, let her take care of it. Come over here baby and see how hard my cock is just thinking about fucking you against that wall. Kiss it and make it better.
Angel’s lurid thoughts were interrupted by the click of the bedroom door. He grabbed a small pillow from the sofa and snuggled it to him covering the persistent bulge.
“Well how do I look?” Cordelia twirled to give Angel a full view. “Will this do?”
Angel looked and then he looked some more. He looked and wondered why she would have those clothes in her closet. The short leather skirt was red, blood red, it oozed blood it was so red. The wide black belt hung loose on her hips weighted by the heavy gold buckle. Her blouse, it wasn’t a blouse it was a piece of thin, purple gauze that she had strapped across her chest, held in place by the three narrow chains that clasped at her otherwise naked back.
He could see the rounded form of her breasts so clearly he could easily imagine how her nipples would stiffen and peak in the cool, night breeze. Well he had wanted that when he intentionally left the top down on the convertible. He had wanted it and now he was getting it along with every low life that walked the back streets of LA.
“Well Angel…what do you think?”
I think I need a bigger pillow. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
