Part 10
Day 32…
Cordelia opened her eyes when an ache spread along her back and up into her neck, where it disappeared into a strange sort of numbness that made her sit. Well, try to sit. A heavily muscled arm draped over her stomach prevented that and the arm under her head was obviously the cause of that weird numb feeling in her ear. Thankfully, he’d given her an old shirt so she didn’t have to suffer the discomfort of sleeping in her clothes, but even that didn’t make a difference when it came to sleeping for way too long.
How long had she been asleep? If the aching spine was anything to go by, she’d been in the arms of Hypnos forever and a day. She had to move before it consumed her entire body. She got headaches when she lay in bed or slept too long, and not just any old headache either. They were the kind of headaches that needed a horse tranq to cure. Horrible.
Unfortunately, her horse tranqs were in her other pants, and that meant she had to get up.
She tried to lift his arm from her waist, but it was a lot heavier than she thought, and so she tried to inch under the tiny gap she made. Cordelia ended up half on her back and half on her right side with her fingers uncomfortably curled into her palm. Easing that hand out from under her amazingly bony waist, frowning when Angel shoved the arm from under her head to down by her ass.
It wasn’t the nicest of positions, but at least she knew who did the snuggling, and it sure as hell wasn’t her.
Cordelia had no time to gloat as he turned to face her and his other arm evilly crept up to drap over her ribs, and it was at this point she realised he looked like the corpse he was. He chest didn’t move with breath, nor did his nostrils flare or lips move. His skin was pale and all bar a few minor cuts had practically healed from his earlier tizzy with Spike.
As much as I’d love to stay and stare, I have to get up.
She took a leaf out of his book and went with the tried and tested hug ‘n’ roll. It took some ingenius manourvering for her to get him to go with the flow, but as his body moved, his arm followed. Now she found herself in an extremely compromising situation. She had a knee practically between his thighs, her mouth inches from his, and her breasts crushed against his torso.
If he woke up to see her sprawled over him, who knew what he’d think. He’d probably make out like she was some sort of pervert trying to take advantage.
She tried to slide down so she could duck under the the loop made by him. Shuffling down the body of a man while trying to ignore the feel of his skin on her cheek was pretty damn awkward, but she gave it her all.
Aw man, Cordelia thought as her face became smooshed by his abdomen and resisted the urge to take a bite out of Angel purely because the chances of him biting back, and a hell of a lot harder, were fairly high. Oh, ew. She drooling, actually drooling on his gut, but it couldn’t be helped when ab upon ab kept her mouth open.
A little bit further and she’d be free.
She was halfway down that little bit further when a cough got her attention and hazel eyes glanced up, his amused expression distorted by her lashes. She tried to smile, but that motion had her tongue on him. It was also at that point where she realised just how far down she really was.
Her chin was touching his pants and her grabby little hands were on his belt. God only knew what this looked like to him. Please, please don’t let him say anything.
Sadly, the forming smirk was a clear indication he had no intention of letting this go. “Want some help?”
Cordelia felt her face beginning to burn and shook her head.
“I’m only asking cus that belt can be a handful…” Angelus frowned when something cool and unpleasent trickled down his stomach. “Did you drool on me?”
She was only able to move when he did and the first duty was to use her sleeve to wipe her mouth and his skin dry. “Sorry,” she sheepishly explained. “But my mouth was busy with your muscle.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I didn’t mean that. What I meant was I couldn’t close my mouth and my tongue came out and I licked you.”
“So, your mouth was open and you were licking my muscle?”
Was it her or was it going from bad to worse? “Yes?” What else could she say?
“Oh.” Try as he might, there was no getting away from the laughter bubbling up as the sight of her face turned a pretty shade of purple. “Far be it from me to stop you. Please, continue.”
“Can we just pretend this conversation never happened? Great. Thanks.”
Angelus ran a hand down his face to smooth away the smirk. “I dunno, Cor. Your tongue was on my muscle. That might take some forgetting.”
“Then try,” Cordelia snarked, the embarrassment getting to her more than she cared to admit. Or maybe it wasn’t the embarrassment getting to her as much as it was the urge to go ahead and continue. In an effort to both change the subject and wipe that smirk off his face, she made a show of looking at his mahogany wall clock and gasping out in exaggeration.
“Is that the time?” Innocent eyes met sparkling brown ones that held much amusement. “We’re definitely too late to hit the town. I can’t believe I slept so long.” She could believe it considering her hours of happy nap time had been constantly interrupted by vampires, but she didn’t say that.
It seemed she didn’t have to. “I’ve been keeping you up past your bedtime,” the smirk returned to his face in full force. “What would daddy say?”
She was silent for a moment, which said more than words ever would. “How is it you can make everything sound perverted?”
Angelus gave a graceful shrug. “Everyone needs a talent. Now, about our date. We can go tomorrow. You mentioned something about bowling?”
The way he said it made her realise just how stupid it sounded. Who the hell would offer to take a two hundred plus year old vampire out for a game of ten pin and french fries? Especially one who was obviously educated and well travelled. God, she felt like a dumb child and she didn’t like it one little bit. “We could go to a restaurant or a movie if you prefer.”
He frowned. She wasn’t looking at him anymore and the excitement flushing her cheeks was gone, leaving her mouth turned down at the corners and fingers plucking at the sheets. “What?”
“Nothing, really.”
He clearly didn’t believe her. “What?” The tone was not to be ignored.
Cordelia held her head high and met his inquisitize gaze with dignity. “Bowling, Angel. It’s a kids game. Not one for old people like you.”
Both of Angelus eyebrows reached his hairline. “Old?”
Oops. “Yeah, because being two hundred and fifty makes a spring chicken.”
“Two forty four, not two fifty, and I am not old.” He paused long enough to treat her to a genuinely petulant pout. “Cheeky wench.”
Outrage washed away any and all idiotic feelings she had about her date idea. How dare he call her a wench? “I am so not a wench!” Cheeky wench indeed. Jerk.
He grinned. “You’re just trying to get a reaction.”
Cordelia’s jaw dropped. “I am not.”
“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” Angelus only held back the laughter because it’d annoy her more. “I know a wench when I see one, and you my dear, are a wench.”
She had two choices. One was continue the argument and come out a sore loser, and the other was concede victory in favour of saving grace. Anyone with half a brain would choose the latter, but not her, and the reason was simple. Her brain had a direct connection to a mouth that just wouldn’t stay shut.
Cordelia’s lips curled up into a smirk to rival his. “Not got your bus pass yet?”
Angelus blinked once or twice. “You do realise you’ve just insulted a vampire in his remote home, in a remote part of Sunnydale, right?”
“And you just insulted a bitchy brunette in a remote home, in a remote part of Sunnydale. You may be able to bite me dead, but I can make you sing second soprano.” The sentence ended with a huge tongue pulling that had his mouth forming a tight line as he tried not to laugh.
“Oh yeah?” She wasn’t strong enough to beat him at a finger wrestle and she knew it, but to have her get in his face was a serious turn on, and he told her so. “Do you have any idea what you’re like for me?” He asked with a smile.
Cordelia frowned in confusion. “No?”
One look at her pretty little face was enough to put an end to his valiant effort, and the laugh which escaped his throat was deep, husky, and sent a wave of warmth all the way down to the place between her legs. His nostrils flared as he caught the light scent of increasing arousal and purred out delight.
“Oh honey,” brown eyes flickered gold and rolled back. “You’re a rush.”
God, he could smell it, could smell her.
That warmth spread up to her face, turning her cheeks a rosy red, and melting the hazel into dilated pupils. There wasn’t much point in denying what he already knew. A rush? Was that a compliment or another insult? Not that it mattered at the moment because her wenchless status took pride of place.
Cordelia allowed Angelus to partially cover her body, careful to make sure he didn’t touch her at all, and inconspicuously slid her hands under the closest pillow. “I guess every OAP would say a teenage girl was a rush,” then the pillow was brought down on his head.
The blow took him by surprise and he found himself glancing into a pair of mischevious eyes that blinked innocently back at him. “What?” She asked, plump lips now smiling.
“Butter wouldn’t melt, would it?” Angelus quizzed as he sat up, removing the pillow with one hand while using the other for balance. “I’m not butter.” The pillow collided softly with her face.
He must have thought he’d won if his chortling was anything to go by, but as far as she was concerned, he’d won nothing but a death sentence. She grabbed the other pillow on the bed and caught him so off guard, he fell to his back, and she giggled in delight. “Ha!” She yelled, her voice full of glee. “Mess with the best, die like the rest.”
Cordelia’s pillow hit him three times more before he reacted, but when he did, it was with force enough to send her face down onto the mattress. If it had been a human male, she’d have run for the hills for fear of domestic violence, but he wasn’t. The look on his face served to remind her she wasn’t dealing with his soul or a highschool boy, she was dealing with Angelus.
Angelus was a soulless vampire who was simply playing and he, or it, didn’t scare her in the least. It should, but it didn’t.
His laughter raised her heckles and encouraged her to add a bit more violence to her retaliation so that he got some of what he gave, and her pillow smacked off his head. Before he had a chance to get her back, she gave him another hefty wallop, and this time it was to his chest.
“Whassamatter, old man?” Cordelia taunted. “Tired?”
“You minx,” he half snarled. “You little fucking minx!” He smashed his pillow off her head and got one in return, so he did it again, but she stopped the second assault with hers.
“Neenur, neenur, neenur! You didn’t get me!” She sang, using his momentary distraction to slam her weapon against his back, forcing his robe to come looser yet she cared not. She saw the move coming and blocked it with her pillow, giggling at the surprised look on his face.
This time it was Angelus turn to use the momentary distraction to his advantage, and he was able to get a hit in, but wasn’t prepared for sudden retribution, which his jaw suffered. His pillow went down, time and again off her face, making her need to use physical contact in order to stop his attack. Her legs went around his waist and her hips came up off the bed so she could use weight and momentum to flip him over onto his back.
She was winning, actually winning against a vampire. How cool was she?
Cordelia smooshed her pillow on any part of him she could. Face, head, and chest all received the same treatment until he’d had enough. Two large hands curled tightly round her wrists, thick fingers squeezing in a manner that caused her to drop the weapon, and Angelus held her naughty little hands behind her back. She didn’t go down without a fight and struggled and squirmed on him, her legs kicking out and going to either side of him.
He laughed merrily, knowing enjoying something this much was against all the rules, but what the hell. He sat up and expertly locked her wrists in one large palm, leaving the other free to smack a pillow off the back of her head. She shrieked in frustration, her feet pushed hard on the mattress, unbalancing them both. The pillows went asunder, the sheets were beyond rumpled, and he was totally on top of her while her arms were painfully locked under their combined weight.
It was only by some miracle that she managed to roll them over, but sadly there was no more bed to break their fall.
Angelus grunted when the corner of his nightstand scraped across his ankle bone, leaving angry red scratches in its wake, and she hissed out an ow when her head collided harshly with the floor. Despite the discomfort of having what felt like a ten ton truck land on her ribs and a baseball bat to her skull, Cordelia laughed.
God, she’d never had a pillow fight since she was a kid. How could she forget how much fun they were?
He, on the other hand, was suffering the effects of two full, soft breasts and tightening nipples cushioning his chest. He looked down into brilliant hazel eyes and shifted ever so slightly just so she’d know what their little tizzy did to him. Slowly, her laughter died into the occasional hiccup, and her hands formed loose fists that came to rest on his shoulders.
“De ja vu,” Angelus murmured, noting this was an exact replica of last year in the cemetary.
Cordelia stared up at the vampiric face. “I’m inclined to agree.”
“Wasted time and opportunities,” he said, replying to her smile with his own.
She bit her lip as her fingers splayed out on broad shoulders, the motion slid his robe down and allowed her to touch his throat. It was thick with muscle and still with death, yet she swore she could feel a pulse below the skin. Her nails made a slow trail down to the part of torso visible, the pectorals flexing under the exploring little touch.
“What are you thinking?”
Cordelia shrugged. “Wasted time and opportunities, I guess, but there’s no sense rehashing things, right? Lemme up.” She pushed unsuccessfully at his body in an effort to remove him from a mildly aching breastbone.
Angelus grinned wickedly as he read between the lines. “The answer is yes and it wouldn’t have taken sex to do it.”
****
Why did it have to be him who could render her speechless with a single sentence?
Cordelia blinked up at him, her lips and brain unsure what to say in response, so she just lay there feeling yet again like a deer caught in the headlights until words finally came to her. “I don’t know what you mean. Would have lost what? Your sanity? News for you, old man…”
Angelus laughed, effectively cutting off the insult before she got a chance to finish. He got off her and held a hand out while hooking a thumb into the robe belt, purposely tugging on it to draw her eyes down to where a hard line lay hidden by silk. “You know exactly what I mean, Cor. If we’d gotten together, then that soul of mine would have gone bye-bye in weeks, not the year and quick rut in the dark with her.”
Her already flushed cheeks got redder and eyes tried to look everywhere but there. Slender fingers fiddled with the hem of her, his, shirt, while toes curled into the thick carpet as she shuffled on her feet. It wasn’t nervousness she was feeling, but her own feelings.
A part of her wanted for him not to say things like that, but another part of her wanted to hear it. God, how jealous could a girl be, she asked herself. “Why? I mean, how can you say that when you don’t know for sure?”
“I do know for sure,” he replied with a grin that said it all. “Think of this last week, Cordelia.” He watched her face and every expression washing over it, then watched a coquettish gaze come his way. “Now imagine a year of it. Not even a year. I’d bliss out after a month.”
“You can say that now,” she pointed out. “But could you say that with a soul?”
“If I could get the guilt trip to stop long enough to form a complete sentence, you mean?” Angelus shrugged, enjoying prolonging her curiosity. “There wouldn’t be time to say it. The soul woulda been gone like that.” He snapped his fingers.
Cordelia frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand. Sure, you and her had a miserable relationship, but it made you both happy. So why me and not her?”
“You like my club, yes?” She nodded. “Buffy didn’t know I had a club. I never went to it, but it was there, and that’s an example. How could I bliss out from being with someone who hid me and who hid away from me? She didn’t care to know me, didn’t care to see past what was the Romeo to her Juliet.”
“She does love the drama,” she said with a smile. “That doesn’t mean you would have lost it with me.”
He had to concede it was a fair point. “Okay, another example, one that your brain can absorb.”
“Ass.”
“I try,” Angelus shot her a wink. “She screamed when she found out I was a vampire. You, on the other hand, said ew and walked away. Not the greatest of reactions, but better than a terrified scream.” He paused. “Ew, Cordelia. You called me ew. Why would you call me ew?”
The look she gave was full of incredulity. “Duh. Walking dead guy.” She stopped and shuddered. “Ew, and that still doesn’t explain why it would take sex with her and not me.”
He rubbed his forehead as he sighed in exasperation. “Let’s try it this way, shall we? I’m soulless but you’re in my home, my bedroom, have slept in my bed, and remained unharmed. Ever wondered why? More to the point, have you even thought about it?”
Her confusion gave way to honest goodness puzzlement that made him chuckle and shake his head. “Yes and no,” Cordelia began to sort through the many thoughts buzzing round her brain. “I did question it, you, at first, but then I stopped because I like you… Oh.”
“A week is all it’s taken. I repeat, imagine a year of this.”
Angelus once more watched the show of emotions flash over her face, dropping her mouth open, and leaving her silent. It only served to remind him of just how good he was when it came to mental manipulation, especially when it concerned a woman like Mz. Chase, his very own sweet femme fatale.
“So,” Cordelia said when the silence between them began to grate on her nerves. “Since we can’t go out until tomorrow now, what are we gonna do to kill time?”
****
“Can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“I didn’t talk you into anything. I’m not the fanatically curious one.”
There was a pause. “Did you just call me crazy?”
“You were the one who wanted to come up here just to see the,” his voice became a high pitched mimic of an eight year old girl, “Big princess tower.”
“You could have said no. This is your house, remember?”
“And what? Have you whining in my ear until I die of boredom?”
“Whining? I do not whine.”
“You’re a woman, aren’t you? It’s in your job description.”
“Excuse me!”
“Shouldn’t that be my line? After all, you’re the one not moving on this stairway to hell.”
Cordelia glared at the outline of the vampire, her hazel eyes spitting hate caused by burning feet and stupidly high heels. “You want me to move? Fine. I’ll move.” She began to stomp her way up more stairs, her heels sounding like thunder in his ears as they smashed off the concrete. “Am I moving enough for you?”
“God, you are such a whiner.”
“Did you just say something? I can’t hear over my moving.” She ignored stinging pain in favour of slamming her feet harder off the ground. Unfortunately, aching ankles and feet put a quick stop to the loud show of defiance, much to his relief, and she paused to catch her breath. Her mouth opened in preparation to speak, but was cut off.
“Before you say it, I didn’t put a gun to your head and force you into those shoes.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Okay, so maybe she was going to say that, but that didn’t mean he had to know.
It wasn’t so dark on the stairwell that she missed the arching eyebrow. “So what were you going to say?”
The shoes in question clacked once or twice more as she shuffled in an effort to kick start the quick thinking part of her brain. “I was going to say it was your fault you chose this dumb, drafty hellhole of a castle to live in.”
“Just because I chose to live here didn’t mean you had to demand the ten cent tour of the highest freaking tower!”
He had her there. Damn him and his point proving skills. “I repeat, you could have said no. You do know what that word means, right?”
Angelus resisted the urge to tear his hair out with his bare hands. “I know exactly what it means. I’m not the lunatic.”
“Yeah, well. I’m rubber, you’re glue.” The petty insult ended with a hefty sigh that came complete with a urgh for added effect. She crossed her arms, pursed her lips, and waited for his next move, which was something similar to hers, except his gaze was far more homicidal.
They stood there and stared, each wanting the other to back down and admit to whose fault it was they were halfway to dropping dead. Seconds, maybe longer, passed before they simultaneously looked away, one grouching out sighs and the other grinding forming fangs. God, he’d never wanted to bite someone so much in his entire vampiric existence.
The silence grated on her nerves more than the walk up the steep, winding stairs. She blew out a puff of air and decided damage control was obviously down to her since he was too stubborn.
“Help me take my shoes off?” She asked, purposely making herself out to be a distressed damsel.
“Won’t they just stick to me?” So he sounded like a petulant kid, sue him.
“I didn’t mean to call you glue. Honest. You’re more of a big ball of gum… Or something equally sticky and fun to play with.”
That got the beginnings of a smirk. “Exactly how much fun?”
Cordelia absently twirled loose strand of hair as she regarded the vampire, feeling her face heat up under his intense attention. He had been a few steps or so behind her, but was now up close and personal. He was so close, she could see flecks of gold lighting his wicked eyes and heard the breath exhaled on a deep purr. His lips were incredibly pale, even in the dark, and teeth were white and sharp.
He wore no cologne and all she could smell was the delicious combination of leather, midnight, and something she couldn’t quite place. It was strange mix of musky heat and natural masculinity, and it was oh so good. She leaned a little closer, eyes fluttered when light stubble tickled her nose and lips. She could almost taste him.
“Don’t know.” She managed, her effort to pull back stopped by a curving wall behind her. “Never played.”
Angelus grinned a shark’s grin and bent down. “Hold my shoulders,” he said, not once removing his gaze from her face. “Right foot.”
Cordelia obediently raised her right foot, feeling his fingers skim over her skin to loosen the thin strap, then felt him slip off her shoe. The second it was set aside, he took the opportunity to trail a fingernail from toe to heel, drawing random patterns until he reached her ankle.
“Ya know,” he began casually. “Back in the day, seeing a woman’s bare foot was enough to cause scandal of the worst kind. They had these white stockings covering every bit of skin imaginable.”
“If we were caught, you’d have to marry me to save my reputation,” was the reply and it came with a pretty little smile that fell into one full of curiosity. “Did you ever marry?” She hoped not and then felt like a jealous wench, but taking it back only made her feel a whole lot worse. Just because he hadn’t known her then didn’t mean Angel didn’t deserve to have a wife if he chose. Still, the thought of him and that had her pouting.
Angelus saw her expression and winked lasciviously. “I wasn’t dumb enough to get caught. Left foot.”
“You’re an ass.” She obeyed and offered up her left foot, her eyes twinkled as she watched him lavished the same small amount of affection on her toes, wiggling them when his exploring finger reached a sensitive spot. Off his look, “The tootsies tickle on that one.”
Helpless laughter echoed round the stairwell. “Tootsies?”
Cordelia shrugged. “Tootsies sounds better than tootiepegs or toes.” Her foot was placed back on the step and now that she was sans heels, she was a few inches shorter, and her breath caught in her throat. His hands were now on her calves and her skirt fanned out around his shoulders, making it so all he’d have to do was stand to push her skirt up to her waist. It was enough to hit her where it hurt, not mention enough to make her fantasies take flight.
She was sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble for him to stop the damned teasing and get it over with. Oh wait. It was Angelus. He got off on torture.
His eyes darkened, lips furled into a half smile as he slowly rose, letting his fingers slide up her legs. Angelus ground his teeth when a rich scent of arousal replaced the musty hall air, and he purred. How easy it would be to keep going and touch her, easier still would be deflowering the virgin whore right here on the stairs. He knew she was ready for it. Hell, he could fucking taste she was ready for it, and it killed him to think he’d deny himself a sweet treat in favour of pride.
Cordelia found her mouth wasn’t working and she blinked in answer to his question. “Wanna keep going?”
Was there anything better than rendering a woman speechless? “Sure,” she croaked. God, all he’d done was remove her shoes and she’d gotten wet. Talk about desperate.
Angelus gave her a little shove and picked her shoes up, dangling them from his forefinger. “You do know there’s nothing up here, right?”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to see.”
He shook his head. “C’mon then, Snoop. Only a few more flights to go.”
She resumed the walk, now a tad less painful, and grumbled out a sigh. “Next time I decide to take a hike…”
“Knock some sense into you. I’ll be happy too, believe me.”
“You didn’t have to come along.”
He snorted. “And let you scurry around every nook and cranny in my home?”
Hazel eyes rolled skyward. “I wouldn’t go in the west wing.”
“Why? What’s in the west wing?”
Cordelia came to a halt so suddenly, Angelus was inches off unbalancing her. “You do know Beauty and the Beast, right?”
He scoffed. “Of course I know Beauty and the Beast. Girl exchanges her freedom for that of her father. Goes to live with a prince transformed into a beast because of his arrogance and they live happily ever after… Are you calling me a beast?”
“Oh my God! You’ve never seen Beauty and the Beast! And no, I’m not calling you a beast. I was referring to the Disney cartoon where the Beast forbids Belle from going into the west wing?” There was absolutely no recognition on his face or in his reply. “That’s it. You and me? We’re having a movie-a-thon, starting with Beauty and the Beast.”
Angelus started to laugh incredulously. “You think I’m gonna watch Disney? You really are crazy.”
“Why not?” She challenged and yet again resumed the stair climb. “Afraid you’ll like it? Or maybe you’ll cry? Oh, sorry. Men don’t cry. They just get something in the eye.”
“I take offence to that. I cried once.”
That bit of info stopped Cordelia dead in her tracks for the second time. “You cried? As in actual tears? When, and more importantly, why?”
“Ask that again without the surprise.”
Her face fell into a frown as she realised how that must have sounded. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re a heartless ass with no feelings, it’s just… I can’t comprehend what it took to make you cry. So what did?” It had to be something major.
Her thoughts were on her face and Angelus smiled. “Ballet.”
She’d be laughing if she wasn’t so shocked. “Ballet?” Cordelia asked, her voice full of disbelief, and she had to stare at him to find any trace of fibbing. There was none and that meant he was truly, madly serious about this. “You cried at ballet?”
Angelus arched an eyebrow. “I thought you liked a sensitive guy.”
The grin she gave was smugly victorious. “You said it yourself, Angel. There’s a difference between sensitive and being a big fairy.”
“You’re not funny, Cordelia. You think you are, but you’re not.”
“I know. I’m hilarious.”
He graced her with a look of pure disgust. “Did you take classes in being a pain in my ass?”
“Nope. It’s a God given gift.”
She was such a little minx. If it was anyone else back chatting him like this, they’d be dead faster than they could blink. Huh. Maybe that’s why she got away with teasing him. Because she wasn’t afraid of him no more. Well, not much anyway. Or maybe he just liked to be insulted. After all, vampires were notorious masochists and he was one of the biggest.
Or maybe he simply liked the way her tongue got pinched with her teeth, the way her eyes and smile turned cheeky, the way her shoulders swung back and forth. Aw hell. He just liked her snarky mannerisms full stop. No doubt about it, Cordelia Chase was trouble of the best kind, and in order to keep her type of trouble was to give trouble right back. Of course, he’d have to ease her in slowly when it came to his games, but he had the time and he definitely had the energy.
Now all he needed was the right moment to put the plan into action.
Angelus looked to the ceiling for help. “First she wants a tour, then she complains, then she insults. Women,” he grunted out in exaggerated frustration. “Never understood em.”
Cordelia watched him, knowing the show was for her benefit, and felt kind of smug about it. She’d bet twenty big ones Buffy never got to see his goofy side. “Could you be anymore of a goofball?”
“Do you wanna vomit?”
The conversational banter ceased long enough for them to share a smile. He held her gaze until she blushed and looked away. Oh yeah. It’d be no chore easing her round to his way of thinking.
“Not really. Can we go see the tower now? My feet are getting cold standing around here.”
“I got the cure for cold feet.”
He winced when her shriek of surprise went right through him, rattling both his sensitised ears. It took a second or two for the vibrations to die down and he was able to get her settled in her new place against his chest. “Okay?”
For her part, it was all she could do not to stare behind him at the very long, very hard concrete ground. If he fell…
Cordelia gulped and clung a little tighter. “Fine. I’m okay,” and she would be as long as she didn’t look down. Focusing all her attention on Angelus and trying to keep the instinct to snuggle well and truly buried, she offered up a pretty smile. He carried her as though she weighed less than nothing. Impressive and quite attractive if she did say so herself.
“Has your name always been Angel?”
“Liam,” he replied, his voice sounding a little odd. “My human name was Liam. I was twenty seven when I died.”
“If you’re uncomfortable talking about it, we don’t have to…”
Angelus chuckled. “I’m not uncomfortable. Merely enjoying the opportunity to feel you up.” God knew he needed it. The whole situation was starting to get to him, really get to him. He was awake all hours of the night, tossing and turning from back to front while being smothered in her scent, and those massages she gave were the icing on the damned cake that was his permanent hard on.
She may not be menstruating, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t smell it on her, because he could. It was mixed with tangy, tasty sex and baby lotion, and there was no escape for him, and it was scratching its way through his sanity like nails on a chalkboard. All he wanted to do was make her pay for what she was doing to him.
There was no question she’d pay and pay dearly, but not yet.
The rest of the hike was spent in comfortable silence, with only the sounds of her heart and breathing to shatter it. Every now and then, Cordelia would shift her head so she lay resting either on his shoulder or his cheek, allowing him to lose a bit more of what remained of his sanity and will power.
His fingers brushed the soft underside of her breast and he grinned like a wildcat when she snatched in a deep, shaky breath. It wasn’t a sexual touch, he was simply readjusting his hold, but it was enough to get nails digging into his skin.
Angelus did it again, this time adding the smallest amount of pressure that had her eyes fluttering, and fingers flexing around his neck. He felt something stir in his gut when her lips graced an almost unfelt warm smooch to his jaw and his hand involuntarily squeezed that little harder as a reward.
Damn if she wasn’t soft and round, a perfect fit for his hand, and he’d bet anything she was tipped with teeny, tiny rose buds. Probably taste of raspberries or strawberries. He could hardly wait.
“Cordelia,” his voice like fine grains of sand broke through the intensity surrounding her, and dewy irises glanced through dark lashes.
“Uh-huh?”
“We’re here.”
Disappointment washed over her face, turning her pretty mouth down at the corners. “Oh. Guess that means you hafta put me down now.”
God, being a bastard never felt so good. A cheery smile brightened his face as he set her down, making sure she wasn’t going to collapse before fully letting her go. “Move a sec. The door’s a bit hard.”
“Not the only thing,” Cordelia muttered, not caring whether he heard her or not. She did as requested and stood to one side, her eyes growing wide with the eagerness to see the room.
Angelus used a broad shoulder to shove the door open, and when he did, the stench of a musty, unaired room hit them both equally. It was rank, reminding her of sweaty feet and him of week old corpses.
He shot her an unpleasant look, “Shall we?”
“Yes,” came the coughed croak. “We shall, and tomorrow we shall be investing in some air freshener… Or maybe a demolition squad.”
He paused before entering the room, hiding his smile behind a malicious look. “You do realise you’re in a remote part of a remote house, in a remote part of Sunnydale with a soulless vampire, right?”
Cordelia rose to the biting challenge. “Completely,” she replied and met his gaze with a humoured one of her own. “And do you realise you’re in a remote part of a remote house, in a remote part of Sunnydale with a girl who’ll kick your shiny little tush if you don’t let her past?”
There were many reasons he wanted to bed her and that was just one of them.
****
It took Angelus a good few minutes to find a light switch and a good few seconds to see there wasn’t one. There was a tiny, rectangular window allowing enough moonlight in for Cordelia to comfortably find her way around, and see what was in there. A few boxes were over by the far wall and a one or chests of some kind closer to her.
The room itself was huge and round with cold, grey concrete walls that went right up into a high point. Probably the spire, she figured, her head rolling back so she could look way up. As she twirled, she followed the spiraling brick work, and eventually decided that the room as a whole was cool. Literally and figuratively. “This the room with the gargoyles outside?”
“No,” he replied. “That’s two doors down on the left.”
He got a sneer for his sarcastic trouble. “Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
A grin was shared and held before she broke away as a sharp something cut into her shin. “Ow!” Cordelia glared at the vampire, one hand rubbing the sore spot. Why did little cuts always hurt more than big ones? “I thought you said there was nothing in here.”
Angelus shrugged. “Because there isn’t.” Well, nothing he hadn’t already seen.
“Does that look like nothing to you?” His little smile was apologetic enough, but did nothing to ease her irritation. “Ever heard the words look out, Cor, there’s something in front of you? Or how about the shorter version, watch where you’re going? Geez.”
She huffed in a manner which had him choking back the chuckles. “I could have had anything stuck in me.”
“If you’re that hung up on being pierced, I gotta coupla choices for you.” The fang flashing smirk gave it all away and hazel eyes rolled, but her lips cranked up at the edges.
“You’re such a perv, you know that?”
“No other way to be.”
Angelus watched as Cordelia knelt down on the dusty, dirty floor and tried with all her might to open the trunk. He heard her huffing and puffing, saw her face scrunch up when she kept failing her task, then heard the muttered curses. A minute or so went by before she swallowed her pride.
“Are you gonna help me open this thingamabob or are you just gonna stand there?”
A sigh accompanied his footsteps as he closed the distance between them, all the while grumbling about bossy brunettes and their crazy ideas of entertainment. He knelt down next to her, and with a one handed yank to the lid, opened the trunk that gave her so much trouble.
Cordelia would have said something about his showing off, but she was too enamored with her new toy. Without wasting time or caring about what may or may not be inside, she dug both hands and rummaged around like bargain hunter at an antique’s fair.
“What, uh, are you looking for?” Angelus asked, helpless to stop himself peering into the trunk.
She paused for a second. “I’ll let you know when I find it,” then went back to rummaging, leaving him with nothing to do bar watch her.
Moonlight thread her hair with platinum, a beautiful contrast to the dark chestnut strands, and her face looked like fine silver porcelain. Her lashes created wispy shadows below her eyes and cheeks held an ethereal glow, which merely added to the effect.
Then there was her scent. Her sweet, intoxicating scent. Arousal, remnants of blood and sweat. Everything was in perfect synchronicity, and it was delicious.
He wasn’t sure how long passed before he spoke. “Cordelia.”
“Yeah?” She looked up from her treasure hunting, not expecting what she saw.
“You’re a rush.”