Chapter 4
It was like embracing the sun. Angel pressed the warm flesh to his body, taut with need. For all his apparent languor, he felt tense and cold, like he was at a precipice staring down into a frozen, jagged chasm.
He had wanted her. He had thought of nothing else since he had caught Cordy prowling around in his office. Her heat….her blood…..her beating, throbbing heart. He needed to crawl into her heat and drink at her light. He needed……her. He needed her.
His arm clamped around her slight frame, just under her breasts. He took in her scent, a heady mix of fear, and anger….and want. He could almost taste her want. He grinned to himself as he felt her struggle. God, this was going to be good.
Cordelia felt her body being lifted back against Angel, her legs flailing about as she clawed at the arm that gripped her midsection like a vise. She felt dwarfed by the bulk strength of his body, almost enveloping hers in power and size.
Fear shot through her as she realized that this wasn’t Angel…not the one she knew. And he wasn’t Angelus, because Angelus would have strung this out far more…would have taunted and teased until she and Gunn and Wes were lathered into rabid fear.
This was….somebody she didn’t know. She didn’t know what to do. And God…that made her so much more afraid.
Cool lips pressed to the skin of her ear. “Warm….so so warm.” He murmured softly, his free hand running down her thigh, stroking it with a strange lack of gentleness. Almost as if it moved against his wishes. Cordy held still, trying to think.
Her eyes closed as his lips trailed roughly down the side of her throat, and she felt a shudder work through her as he whispered, “Knew you’d come.”
She kicked out suddenly and caught him off guard. Pushing away from him, she spun around and backed up, her eyes wide. He slowly stalked towards her, all lazy grace. She straightened up and stood firm, holding her hand up.
“STOP!” Angel stopped, his face impassive. Shocked that it worked, Cordelia worked her bag around slowly, off her shoulder. She wished that whoever was chattering like a hysterical monkey on steroids would just shut up; then she realized it was her.
“OK. We got a thing here. A wanna make with the happy thing. I mean, you know, a….feeling……” Angel rolled his neck and stepped forward. “WAIT!” he stopped again, looking almost bored. “I mean, I’m just wondering….ohogod….mmm….why don’t we just…..” she slowly fumbled around in her bag and felt excitement shoot through her as she found the gun and snapped it out, gripping it with both hands and pointing it squarely at his chest.
Angel held stock-still, looking at the small compact gun, then up at her face. Gold flashed around the rims the chocolate of his eyes and his voice was darkly amused. He felt a lick of heat at his soul. Good for her.
Fighting till the fucking end. “A gun? I’m all offended. Except for the part where I’m….disappointed.” The last part was spoken in a low growl. Cordelia shook her head; he seemed to be almost on remote control.
“Stay back. You won’t like this.”
He stood still but leaned in a little and whispered, “Vampire, Cordy.”
She let a small smirk lift her lips. “Bitch with a gun, Angel” and she fired, point-blank at his chest. He was a blur as he stepped aside in time to hear a small whistle streak past his shoulder. He looked at Cordy, who stood still with shock, the gun still pointed.
Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw the small feathered dart embedded in the wall across the lobby. He sighed and looked back as she slowly lowered her hands, the gun dangling loosely from lifeless fingers.
“Mmmm. You missed.”
Oh God. Shit. Shit. Her mind raced frantically. The door. Get to the door. She pasted a huge, cherry smile on her face as she inched back slightly. “Wow. Boy. Is my face red or what?”
Angel stood watching her, rigid and still. She heard a thundering, a roaring, and realized it was her heart, pounding a rushing tattoo. His eyes flared gold again, and she knew he heard it, too.
And he did. He heard her heart thumping, pumping all that sweet honeyed blood through her body. He heard her soft panting. He felt her fear. And he inhaled a scent….musk and spice and wet and hot. He watched her, his eyes intent, as she inched her way to the door. They stared at each other for what seemed like eons.
Suddenly, she spun around and dropped the gun, raced to the door, leaped up the steps and grabbed at the handle, forgetting completely about her shoes. She breathed in the rush of air as she pulled the door open two inches before a large hand reached over her shoulder and slapped the door closed in her face while his other hand yanked her bag off her shoulder.
She ducked under his arm and backed away from him….slowly down the steps into the lobby. She tried to hold his gaze and look for escape at the same time.
“Angel. Please. You’ve been….well….upset….” And amazingly, anger began to flood through her. “Actually, I don’t know what the hell you’ve been, do I? You shut down. You went on some kind of e-ticket ride to hell and decided you didn’t need that pesky friend baggage weighing you down.”
She stopped backing up, staring up at him. “God, Angel. Where are you?”
“Right here.” Damn. Didn’t she know? If she only stayed frightened, he may have given up. He didn’t want frightened. Well, yeah, he did, but not frightened to the hilt. A scared little rabbit, he could shove her off and sink further into the dark. Alone and cold.
But to stand there, and work that mouth, and let her anger show…..it was a done deal. She wore battle like other women wore perfume, and it swamped him.
She charged on, oblivious. “We tried…and you shut us out. You fired us. You try to erase what we all were together. You go off on this solo hell trip. You steal our books….” She blinked a moment. “How did you get our books? Don’t even try to tell me it was a weak spell.”
“I have friends in low places.”
“Well, yeah, I buy the low places part. The friends part is bogus.” They stared at each other for a moment. Cordy sighed, feeling sad and defeated. “Angel, we can’t. You have to let us back in before you and I could ever…..” She bit her lip. Damn.
When had she ever wanted him more than right now? Now, when she was trapped, and he was clever, and he wanted her, and he was so, so empty. God, Cordy. You can pick ’em. “Listen. You need…something. I get that. I want to be there, Angel, I want to be your friend. But this…” she waved a hand “this…this us. We shouldn’t. Not like this.”
“Yeah.” He seemed to shudder a bit then he stepped back. His head hung down and he seemed to be staring at the floor. “We shouldn’t.” Her heart gave a funny twinge. She shifted, feeling the wet heat between her legs. He lifted his gaze to hers and her breath caught in her throat.
His gaze was molten and feral. “We shouldn’t. But we’re going to.” He crossed down the steps and bent, not slowing as he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, clamping an arm around her legs to anchor her to him as he began climbing the stairs with a slow, measured tread.
There was finality in every step. Cordy tried to wriggle off his shoulder, but his free hand casually reached up and swatted at the curve of her ass. She shrieked angrily and smacked at his butt as he walked.
“Cordy, Cordy…so quick with the foreplay.” His voice was casual but she could hear the underlying steel in his voice. He climbed the stairs and stalked down the carpeted hall, his footsteps solid muffled thuds.
“Put me down, you asshole. You prick. You fucking stupid…..dumb….” Her voice echoed down the hallway. He listened with detachment as he walked and finally raised a hand and swatted her ass again, harder this time.
Seething, she stopped hitting at him and shut up. She was livid. Angry because she wasn’t prepared for this. Angry because she felt helpless. And jeeze. Angry because her body was at a fevered pitch, and she had never felt so needy in her life.
She started as Angel kicked the door to his suite open and crossed to the bed. The room spun around her as he threw her off his shoulder and she bounced on her back on the bed. She tried to scoot over to the other side but he reached down and grabbed at her ankle, hauling her back to the center of the bed. She kicked out at him and he grinned slightly, reaching to unfasten his belt and slip it out of his pants. She stilled in a panic, and the air became thick with tension.
“No…” her voice was a begging whisper. Angel ignored it and looped one end of the belt around the bedpost, tying the other end around her ankle. He straightened up and watched her frantically claw at it, trying to untie the knot, as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off.
She stopped, her lips parted and shallow pants puffing out as her wide eyes took in the muscled planes of his chest. She stared, almost in a trance, as his hands reached to unfasten and unzip his jeans, kicking his shoes off before tugging the denim down over his hips and down his legs.
Cordelia felt her mouth go dry. Well, that answered the boxers versus briefs question. She lost either way, since “commando” hadn’t been one of the choices. The jeans were kicked off and he climbed over her, stalking her as she scooted back on the bed. She raised her eyes to meet his, trying to hold his gaze so she wouldn’t look down….down below his waist.
His hands reached for her top and he tried to raise it over her head, but she kept her arms clamped to her sides. He grinned at her and shrugged slightly before reaching for the crew neck and tugging at it with both hands, ripping it down the middle. He paused, pulling the tattered shirt aside. He straddled her hips, staring down at the mounds of flesh that spilled from the thin, sheer bra.
In the shadowed valley between her breasts, indiscernible to human eye, was the small, steady twitch of skin with each pump of her heart. It was her siren song to him, and he was entranced. Her hands had gripped at his forearms as he ripped at her shirt, and he felt them flex as he leaned down and licked at that spot.
He licked at the skin, and inhaled her musk, and his hands reached to cup her breasts, plumping them as he pushed them together. Cordelia lay still, looking up at him, her eyes wide….and….heated. He was grimly amused at the anger he could see, burning in the hazel depths. He scooted down her legs a bit and unsnapped the waist of her cropped pants.
He scooted further down to her feet, and yanked at the belt, breaking the knot. Her hands shot down and grabbed at the waistband of her loosened slacks and held on with a grip of iron. He tugged half-heartedly at the cuffs before whispering, “Let go. Now.”
Cordelia drew in breath shallowly, knowing what he wanted, and what it meant. Watching him, she slowly shook her head. She lay there, hands clutching at the gaping waistband of the cotton capris, the ripped edges of her top splayed open.
He grinned up at her, dark and wicked, and suddenly leapt up to nip at the tip of her breast through her bra. Cordelia shrieked and her hands batted at his head, shoving him away. Quick as a flash, he leaned back down and yanked her slacks down her body and off.
His eyes seemed to darken as a satisfied rumble shivered up his spine. He held her gaze steady as he reached for the silken panties that rode low on her hips, trailing his fingers over the damp fabric that covered dark, dewy curls.
She tensed as she felt little flicks of sharp need shoot through her body at the touch. He leaned in and pressed his face to the silk, taking in her scent like a man desperate for oxygen. His lips pressed to her briefly before rising over her. He braced himself over her and looked down into her eyes.
“Give it to me, Cordy. C’mon.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear “Aren’t you tired of having all the heat? Don’t you wanna share?” Her head shook slightly, her eyes closed.
He laughed against her, a low rumble. “Sure you do. You want to take my empty soul and fill it up….you want all my cold and ice, and you want to melt it. You want to save me. C’mon, Cordy….” He didn’t realize how desperate he was becoming….how his voice had started begging. “C’mon, save me.”
She felt a tear slide down her cheek as she looked into his blank eyes. “God. Angel. Don’t do this. I don’t want this….not…..not without you. The you I know. Please…”
He blinked. “Oh, I fucking think you do want this. I can smell it on you. God, Cordy, it’s ambrosia.” One hand trailed down to the juncture of her thighs and he laughed softly as she clamped her thighs together. “Coorrrrdddyyyy….let me in….” His fingers tugged at the elastic of her panties. She held her body rigid and he sighed, rising so he straddled her thighs.
She finally looked down and her mouth opened to a small O as she saw the thick muscle jutting out from the dark nest of hair between his legs. Ohgod….and she called him a eunuch? She looked up at him feeling ice creeping through her.
“Angel….” Her eyes raised to his. He stared back, impassively. His body loomed over her prone form, both bodies taut and still. “Angel…..you won’t get warm. I’ll just get cold. Like you. I can’t…….not this way. I’ll be empty. Like you. Is that what you want?”
A bleak shadow crept into his eyes. “You’re in a place….I can’t find you. I can’t reach you. You’re taking me there, too. God, Angel, please don’t.”
He remained still, staring at a point deep in her soul for the longest time. Slowly, his head lowered and his eyes closed. A great tremor seemed to shimmy through his body. He climbed off of her, and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. She lay, flat on her back, one hand raising to cover her eyes as she took in gulping breaths, trying to stave off the sobs she felt gathering deep in her throat.
After a bit, she slowly slid off the other side of the bed, reaching for her slacks and tugging them on. She looked down at the tatters of her top and shrugged it off, and looked around, grabbing at a black shirt of Angel’s that had been worn and tossed over a chair. She yanked it on her body and walked to the door, fastening the shirt that hung off her small frame like a tent.
Her hand pushed at the door and she paused. Turning, she looked at him, still on the bed, head down. The air was filled with…..empty. Sad, cold empty. She took a quick breath to speak, then closed her mouth and walked out the door.
Angel sat, almost a statue in the room. He heard her footsteps down the hall…..down the stairs….across the lobby. A little rustling, small noises. Then the slam of the front door. He sucked in the loss. His heart, dead and useless, ached as if shards of glass had shattered it.
He couldn’t be saved.