Part 5 – House Call
Angel gasped when Cordy finally permitted him to turn around. She had refused to take the top completely off, deigning only to lift it off her shoulder and shove it out of the way, but it was enough for him to see the massive injury to her chest.
“Oh, my God. Cordy, this is bad. I’m sorry, but the bra has to come off.”
She slowly turned her head toward him and cocked it. “Excuse me?”
“The bra. It’s in the way. I’ll help you.” His hand reached for the clasp in the back and she pushed back hard trapping his hand against the wall.
“If you want to keep that hand in working order, mister, I wouldn’t move it if I were you.” The stake in her free hand was wobbly and scratching his chest.
She bounced back again with all her strength jabbing her shoulder blade into his palm. “Ow, shit! Cordy! What’s your problem?”
“Hmmm. Let me think. A man is trying to remove my bra without my permission. Now what could be wrong with that?”
Her arched brow forced his head down in frustration. Taking a cleansing breath, he raised his cool gaze to her heated one and let the demon charm flow. “Cordelia Chase. May I please help you remove your bra so that I can have access to that gaping hole in your chest and use my saliva to seal it?” He smiled that smile. The one that always tugged her lips up in reflex.
Lowering the stake, her chest shook with laughter. “Ow, ow, ow,” she managed to squeal in between sniggers. “Oh, God this is so messed up. How pathetic is it that I threaten to kill the only man who’s wanted to take my bra off in ages? Don’t answer that.” She leaned forward freeing his hand. “Strip away.”
“You know,” he said as he easily released the closure with one hand, “maybe you would get more offers if you didn’t spend your Sundays chasing vampires through old hotels.”
He slipped a finger under the strap and gingerly peeled it off her shoulder, the fabric clinging to her skin with dried blood.
“And maybe if certain vampires didn’t refuse to answer a simple question, I wouldn’t have to chase them.” Her trembling hand covered his, her eyes pleading with him to let her finish the deed.
Turning his head while she undressed, it gave him the opportunity to think about what he was going to say about the Darla issue. He’d hoped that with her life in the balance, she just might forget about that for now. But knowing her stubborn nature, he should’ve realized it wouldn’t be that easy. He just couldn’t understand why though. Why was what happened with Darla so damn important to her?
Behind him, Cordy tucked the bra under her dangling top. Her torso was half exposed save for the cover her palm afforded. Summoning a deep breath and swallowing it, she croaked, “I…I’m ready.”
Turning around slowly, Angel hoped his expression remained neutral. Despite the grime, the pasty sweat and dried blood, the picture of Cordelia touching herself…her breast…in front of him made his skin tingle and his mouth wet. He forgot for a moment this was supposed to be an episode of “Dr. Kildare” and not something on late night cable. Not that he’d ever seen something like that because he hadn’t. He was too cheap. He decided then and there cable might be worth the investment.
His periphery vision caught her head tilt to catch his gaze. Her eyes questioned his thoughts and implored him to not make this any harder. Embarrassment and pain were so clearly etched in her expression, her hair-raised skin, and her intoxicating scent.
He smiled softly to relax her. “Okay. This is going to hurt, so feel free to scream or hang onto something.”
“I always knew you wanted to make me scream.” Her lips made a devilish upturn and her words sounded a little shaky on top of her nervous laugh.
“Oh, sure. This is a real dream come true for me.” He lowered his mouth toward her breast. “Maybe later we can give each other perms.” He felt the vibration of her laugh just before his tongue touched red velvet.
“Pfft.” She sucked in air and gasped the instant his cold flesh met her seared skin. “You’re really showing your age. Owww!”
The tip of his tongue dug into the wound like an antiseptic swab. Each stroke brought a sound of pure torture from her but was unexpectedly sensual for him. The blood, her body heat, her sweat, the sheer silky texture of her skin…oh, god. He shocked himself with a throaty moan.
“We don’t do perms anymore,” she said as his mouth held her flesh steady. “Maybe highlights or a facial.”
He flattened his tongue and lapped at the gash while his wet lips brushed against her again and again. “Owww! You’ve got some really big pores there, buddy. A nice cucumber mask will shrink those right up. Holy shit!” Cordy jerked suddenly.
Angel pulled back, licking his red stained lips. “What? Did I hurt you?”
The sight of the blood on his lips made her hand grip the stake tighter just as his tongue licking those lips made her legs spread instinctively. “Duh. Can’t you like…ya know…lick a little softer?”
He must have gotten carried away and put too much pressure. Why could he not remember this was healing and not foreplay? Maybe because she felt so good in his mouth.
“You’ve got to switch hands. Your arm’s in my way. I can’t reach it all.” And, ohdeargod, there’s a lot to reach. He mentally slapped himself for his uncontrolled lechery.
“Okay, not a problem. I’ll just…” She reached with her other hand, but it still clutched the stake. “Hmmm…breast…wood…breast…wood…tough choice.”
“Not really. Not tough at all. Damn it, stop. Healing, healing, healing,” he repeated in his mind over and over again.
She clamped the stake between her thighs and Angel mentally growled jealous of the stake.
She placed her free hand over the blood soaked one and slipped it out from beneath the new cover. Angel couldn’t decide if he wanted to be the hand touching her breast or the one covered in blood.
There was no thought left when, in the switch over, her fingers separated and Angel caught a glimpse of a turgid, dark, delectable nipple. The image lasted only a second before she closed the curtain. It was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen, and his groin throbbed in agreement.
Recovering the stake from her thighs, she settled back and braced herself for the return of his mouth on her.
“You ready?” he asked almost too eagerly. She nodded her assent. Less inhibited than the first time, he quickly but gently dipped into her body and felt his resonate with bridled energy. His mind repeated the healing mantra, but his body reacted without thinking. Musk and salt coated his throat and a feral growl escaped before he could stop it.
“Is that growly thing part of the treatment, because it kind of itches?” She squirmed and caused him to lose his connection.
“Cordy, try not to move. If you shift, you’ll tear apart what I’m trying to keep together.” Your skin and my self control. He tried once again, this time starting near the base of her breast hoping to shore it up like a zipper closing from the bottom. But again, she hissed and yanked from him unable to control her natural reaction to the pain.
He sat back on his haunches and shook his head in frustration. Then his whole body trembled with fear and excitement when he realized what he had to do next.
Part 6 – House of Cards
Angel looked down and ran his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. “This isn’t going to work. You’ve got to let go.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes burning from the gritty sweat that trickled into them.
“You keep jerking away when you feel pain and when you do, you tear it open again. You’re going to have to move your hand and let me hold you. I have to manipulate the tissue and keep it together while I seal it, and I can’t do that unless…unless I touch you.”
“First of all, don’t call it tissue. What are you, my gyno? It’s a breast or boob or under very special circumstances, boobie. Secondly, in your wet dreams, pal.”
She felt her lips tremble and her voice crack. It wasn’t fear that was making her insides quiver. But damn if she knew why the thought of Angel touching her breast made her twitter with excitement. Because that just wasn’t right. At all.
“Damn it! I’m not trying to cop a feel. I’m trying to keep you from passing out and possibly dying.” His tone was strained and the words came out in a tenor-like yelp.
“Then why does it sound exactly the same as copping a feel?” Her voice rasped and her tongue licked at the perspiration on her upper lip. She saw his eyes dart to the action and her lips parted as she watched his tongue moisten his own.
Both chests heaved.
Angel’s eyes widened into black holes edged with red. His entire being became shadowed in storm clouds. The thunderous sound of a deep bass growl rolled from his chest. Lightening flashed between his constantly clenching fingers.
Cordy’s eyes dried, ablaze with shocked clarity, as alarm coursed through her. She recognized this man. This man was obsession.
She jerked and gasped at the realization. Hot air burned her lungs as her white knuckles gripped the stake in her fist. She held her breath as if she’d just stepped on a mine and knew the slightest twitch would blow her world apart.
Angel reeled as the bolt of her panic struck him. The unexpected terror blasting from her pores and battering his nostrils ripped apart his last thread of patience and understanding. Weeks and weeks of trying to regain her trust, kneeling at her feet like a pathetic sycophant and all he’d gotten in return was her fear and anger. Nothing, not even trying to save her life, was good enough.
He was never going to be good enough for her.
Well, fuck it all and her! If she wanted to be afraid and pissed off, then he’d give her damn good reason to be.
“What’s the matter, Cordelia? My filthy, demon hands not good enough to touch the Queen?” He rose effortlessly, turned smoothly and sauntered a few steps before finally resting his shoulder against a bare patch of wall, his arms folded across his chest.
Angel saw an explosion in her eyes and he knew all her trepidation had disintegrated. He could feel the shrapnel about to burst from her mouth and head toward him with one purpose. To decapitate a certain cock-sure creature of the night. He loved it.
“First off, former Scourge of countries that could fit in Rhode Island,” she said, “whether or not your hands are filthy or demon-crusted has nothing to do with you touching or not touching me. Second…”
“Oh, really? Seems to me it’s all about my being a demon. You know, the demon that constantly disappoints you.” He began ticking off the list on his fingers. “The one that can’t seem to do anything right, that can never, ever make up for pushing the little humans away for their own good. The one that…
“Lies? How about that one? Huh? ‘Cause I’d really like to talk about that demon. That’s the one that got us stuck in this latrine in case you’ve forgotten. Oh, and I believe this was the next finger in your little countdown,” she said as she shot him “the” finger.
It might have been a stronger statement if it wasn’t covered with blood. He didn’t so much get offended as hungry. Yes, lord, he was hungry. He was starving to shut her up. Surging forward, he stopped inches short and towered over her eager to do just that.
“I haven’t forgotten, but apparently you have. You’re the one who rushed into my home on a Sunday and chased me all over my own building. And for what? What I may or may not have done with Darla is none of your damn business. Why do you fucking care?”
“Hello! Angelus anyone?”
Pacing, he restrained his rage and his volume by slowly enunciating his words between clamped jaws. “You know I’m not Angelus, so stop using that as an excuse. C’mon, Cordy. Who’s the liar now?”
“That is so the reason, you arrogant asshole. You could’ve killed us all and for what? You’re supposed to be a goddamn eunuch, but I leave you alone for one minute and you can’t keep it in your pants and away from the first blonde bitch that comes along. Just tell me why, goddamn it!”
“Because I was insane!” Maybe it was the way her voice raised to an ungodly high pitch or maybe it was that damn eunuch comment one too many times. Whatever the reason, he’d snapped and it was done. The last secret was out there hanging between them like the sheet of yellow smog in the room.
She’d broken him, and he didn’t care how shocked and hurt she looked by his confession. In mere hours, Cordelia Chase had managed something no one since the gypsies had done and it ticked him off. There was no turning back now. He wanted it finished.
Stalking back toward her, he stopped, dropped to his knees and boxed her in with his arms, his face inches from hers. “Yes, Cordy. I slept with Darla. Like you said, I went nuts and had sex. With. Darla.”
He fell back on his haunches and beat his chest. “God, I feel great! Is everything in Cordyland hunky fuckin’ dory now? Because from where I’m sitting, life is good. I just had a heart-to-heart with my best friend, told her my deep, dark secret, and I feel light as a feather. How are those shoulders of yours holding up? Hmmm?”
She was speechless. For a shining moment he had finally succeeded in rendering her dumb. Angel’s mouth slid into a thin, satisfied line.
But the moment was fleeting.
He watched, squirming uncomfortably, as Cordy’s skin turned ashen making her seem to fade into the dust surrounding her. Then he watched horrified as her eyes grew wet and cold and a stray drop escaped giving her away.
The moment her tear crested, he regretted every single moment of his living and undead existences. He had just wanted her to be in as much pain as she put him through, but it wasn’t the thrill it should have been. It hurt, damn it. It hurt so goddamn much.
He saw her attempt to regain a parcel of her shredded dignity by trying to swipe away the evidence of her momentary weakness. But she used the wrong hand, letting go of her breast for just an instant, and cried out in agony.
When her tortured eyes turned to his in shock, his guilt doubled. He’d now succeeded in doing the one thing he had tried to avoid when this whole Darla fiasco began. He’d sucked Cordy into hell with him and she was the one paying. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me hard!
As her eyes once again began to roll back, Angel quickly seized her and cradled her shoulders before she passed out. He gently began jostling her head with his palm.
“Cordy? Cordy, wake up. C’mon, don’t give up now. We’re just getting started here.”
She moaned as her eyes slowly flitted open. When she realized he was essentially slapping her awake, she punched at his arm but in her diminished state he only felt a breeze that could’ve been made by the diaphanous wings of flies.
“Don’t touch me. Leave me alone,” she said in barely more than a whisper.
“Cordy, I’m sorry. But, I’ve got to do this. You’re still losing blood and we’re hours away from getting out of here. Please don’t argue with me on this,” Angel said as he unconsciously rocked her in his arms.
“I know, but…”
“But I’m an evil asshole and it will be my hand on your boobie?” he asked and then donned his best kicked puppy look hoping to break the tension. “I know that’s not exactly something you’re excited about. Especially…you know…with the Darla germs.”
She looked at him with her resolve face. He knew she wanted to let go of everything just like he did. She tensed her lips to keep them from turning up. But she was Cordy and she was still clinging to her pride. Between the two of them, she had earned the right to keep hers. He hadn’t.
Letting go of the pretense and the charm, his face softened and he sighed. Cupping her jaw with his palm he softly brushed her cheek with his thumb and stared as deep into her eyes as she’d allow. Then he spoke the words he needed to say from his heart. He spoke the truth.
“I’m sorry. For everything. So very sorry. Please, Cordy. I don’t think I can do this anymore without you. It’s too hard. Please forgive me.”
She searched his eyes for what felt like hours. He didn’t look away. Not up or down, not right or left. Just the steady gaze of the fearless when facing their greatest test.
One corner of her lip curled up slowly followed by the other and he felt the thrill of life fill him. Then he looked deep, deep into her eyes and almost cried at the sight. There was a tiny spark of light that broke through the blackness of the pain he’d caused. It was the beginning of absolution.
He shouldn’t have smiled so big and gasped in relief because he made her laugh. The jiggling ripped at her wound and the pain stabbed her again. She moaned and writhed, and he hugged her closer whispering in her ear, “You know I could just wait until you pass out again and do it while you’re unconscious.”
Cordy puffed causing some of the plaster dust to be released from the hair hanging in her face. “Give it up, creep boy. I’m not out of it enough to fall for that reverse psychology crap.”
Sighing, she made her decision. “Just because I forgive you, doesn’t mean you win. I’m just too weak to fight any more, so let’s do it and get it over with.” She was about to place his hand on her breast when Angel stopped her.
Part 7 – Welcome Home
“No, not here,” Angel said. “Not in this position. It’d be easier if you were lying down. Wait a minute.”
He gently leaned her against the wall and started clearing a spot to work. When he reached for the spring-loaded torture mattress, she had to protest.
“Nuh-uh. I’m not putting this body on that bug infested, teenage boy’s wet dream playground. Yuck and more yuck.”
“I need you on some kind of platform. This is all we’ve got.” He looked around the room again for anything else he could use, but there were just piles of plaster and cords of sharp wood.
She saw his dilemma but was determined that as long as she was awake, her body would not touch that…that…thing. Chills raced up her arm just thinking about it.
“Can’t we just lie on the floor side-by-side?” After she said it, the picture of the two of them in that position formed in her mind. Angel’s hand on her breast, his lips and tongue massaging her, his leg draped over her thighs, his groin grinding into her hip. Oh, my. She gulped and when her eyes focused on Angel’s she could swear he was imagining the same picture.
“I…I suppose that would work,” he said, his words coming out a little shaky.
He finished pushing debris back to widen the clearing to make room for two. When he was done, he approached Cordy to move her.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She bit her lip, mumbled a “Muh-huh” and waited. The situation was merely really bad before. Now it was unbelievably awkward because this was really going to happen. Not only was he going to touch her breast but he was going to touch her arm, her leg, and her entire frickin’ body at once!
This was so not how her day was supposed to go. It was supposed to go: yell, yell some more, drag the truth out of him, scream, storm home in a tizzy, bathe, ice cream. Why do my plans never turn out the way they’re supposed to?
Cordy looked up to see Angel angling his body in different ways like a man trying to read a book upside. Apparently finally settling on the best way to pick her up, he crossed to the side with the undamaged breast and free arm. He knelt on one leg, slid one arm under her knees and hooked his other arm around her back.
“Can you put your arm around my neck?” he asked.
“I’ll try,” she said. She felt like an eighty-year-old Parkinson’s patient and weak as a kitten. Her arm shook as she tried to raise it past her shoulder and it weighed a ton.
Seeing she was unable to do it on her own, Angel brought his hand from behind her and clasped her thin wrist in his massive palm. He guided her arm around his neck and felt the hairs raise on her skin as his fingertips brushed a trail back to her shoulder. When he looked up, their lips were within licking distance of each other.
He was stunned. His eyes reluctantly left that mouth drawn to the isinglass windows staring back. The velvet sash of her eyelashes didn’t blink. Like a statue he waited for the witty ice breaker he knew was coming. The words she would use to cut through this moment of no breaths and save them both. At least he needed saving.
But the words never came.
They never came because Cordy couldn’t think. His cool face took up her entire world freezing everything except the fall into his eyes. Something had to change soon or she would die hitting bottom.
A fly landed on his nose.
The thrall broken, she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to his chest. That really wasn’t a better place to look, but at least she wasn’t falling any more. She was rising into the air in his arms so effortlessly it was like being lifted on pillows.
In a blink, her legs were on the floor and her head was being lowered gently and ever so tenderly toward the…sand.
It was all a dream now. Her head was woozy and the room was beginning to dance just for her. Somewhere way off in the desert…it had to be the desert because it was oh so hot and she could feel sand all over her sweaty body…there was Angel’s voice. He spoke to her, all whispery and nice and loving. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, over and over. And she wasn’t. She wasn’t afraid at all. In fact, she wanted it. Him. Everything. She needed to tell him something before it was too late.
Angel kept his eyes on her face and repeated his mantra of “don’t be afraid” as he carefully removed her hand from her breast and replaced it with his. She didn’t flinch or hiss at his cold touch. The only noticeable change was the most delicate moan he’d ever heard and then his own as the life in his hand beckoned to him.
Almost in a trance, his mouth inched toward her breast. Once more his cool tongue touched and sizzled on her blistering skin. He lapped at the blood, the sweat and the grime, their tang and textures mixing and transporting his mind to the dark past.
Too quickly, his leg locked her thighs beneath him and he felt the hardness of her hip bone on his cock.
Memories consumed him of victims running, running and tackled by his iron arms. Sweat, slick red streams of blood and dirt mingled on their flesh and in his mouth. The urge to relive just one of those moments, to stretch his fangs, to sink into the whirlpool of her life and twirl into death tugged at his resistance.
Only the familiar essence that was Cordelia kept him from it. The soul barely held him back. It was Cordelia…always Cordelia…that tipped the balance and brought him scurrying from the depths and kept him from sinking into the pit.
But this. God! This was an uncharted chasm. Cordy’s semi-conscious body pulled him toward the edge of an abyss of desire that he’d never imagined existed.
In spite of the pain she was undoubtedly feeling, her body responded to his touch. Her arousal was overpowering and unsettling and he wanted to fall. He wanted to jump into her.
A deep growl trembled in his chest and he drooled, spreading his healing wetness deep into her. His mouth consumed her like an ensnared feast as his tongue licked and dipped hungrily sampling all of her flavors.
His hand pressed in and around over and over again, his fervent palm fondled rounded flesh, and his tender thumb brushed hard nipple. Her areola rippled against his caresses, and he unconsciously began to stroke the tender puckered skin and gently roll the rising peak in the center between his fingers.
A part of him knew what he was doing was no longer medicinal manipulation. But it felt so right and so good. And he needed it. He needed her and he had her at last.