“When did they get here?” Cordelia thumbed in the direction of the Scoobies now blocked from view by the closed study door. Considering the serious lack of screaming, “My guess it was after we…,” she grinned and waggled her eyebrows.
A bare hint of a smile tugged at Angel’s mouth, his dark gaze drifting along the black shirt she had taken from his closet lingering in the places it clung to her curves. He reached over to take her hand in his. Just the slide of skin on skin as their fingers threaded together gave Cordelia a warm fuzzy feeling.
Angel led her back to the couch where he drew her down next to him, their hands still connected. His silence struck her disturbingly, chasing away her contentment.
She tucked her legs up as she angled toward him ignoring the slipping edge of the shirt. “You’re kind of broody for a guy who just got some,” she joked hoping that it was not the sudden appearance of a certain Slayer that made him look so morose.
“Buffy’s here,” Cordelia added sharply bristling at the thought that his ex would put a dampener on the one good thing that had happened tonight. “No one else turns you into such a moodmeister.”
Common sense told her that if Xander and Willow were around, Buffy had to be here, too. “Didn’t you tell them to wait until tomorrow?” She had caught one end of his conversation with Giles.
After a short pause, Angel explained that Buffy thought it was better that they secure the mansion against intrusion starting tonight. Even he looked a little skeptical when he said it. Buffy was taking another turn outside patrolling the grounds around the mansion. Xander & Willow were currently, “Guarding the front door.”
“Blocking it, you mean,” she sniggered. “The bad guys might trip over them in the dark.”
Angel raised a brow, “I think the resonant snoring might tip them off first.”
“Guard dogs they’re not,” Cordelia laughed at the idea. She was grateful that they cared enough to be there even if their timing sucked.
“We could exchange them for a couple of Great Danes,” suggested Angel, which made her laugh again. Only a few weeks ago, he did not seem capable of a smile, much less cracking a joke. She squeezed his hand.
Angel seemed to be holding onto hers like a lifeline. Any traces of humor quickly vanished. He was back to serious mode leaving Cordelia to wonder if he was just as overwhelmed as her by their lovemaking. After feeling so lost, so devastated, he had somehow managed to make her feel so safe. She nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder then lifted her lips to his jaw.
A little sound left his throat as if he’d been holding a breath in for a long time. His eyes closed when she shifted to press another soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. Abruptly, he demanded she stop, “No,” and jerked his head away.
Stunned, Cordelia gaped for a few seconds. “What is it…morning breath?” Lifting her other hand, she exhaled into it and then took a deep sniff noticing nothing. Because if it was not, there had better be a good explanation.
“We can’t do this, Cordy.”
Stiffening, Cordelia stared at his profile as he focused his gaze on their still joined hands. His words hit hard and there was no room for misinterpretation. They had breakup smeared all over them. Cordy put two and two together and came up with the only scenario that made sense. Buffy was out there. Angel had obviously been thinking about what they’d done and realized he wasn’t over Buffy.
All Cordelia could think of was that she’d actually admitted her feelings of love to Angel. They had had sex: hot, spine-tingling sex. Now he was trying to break up with her? Hell no. No one broke up with Cordelia Chase. It was totally the other way around.
“You’re right, Angel,” she shook her hand out of his grasp to pat his thigh. “This was a huge mistake. After all that’s happened tonight— sex was probably not a good idea, but thanks for being such a peach.”
Unfolding her legs, she got off the couch and padded across the shag rug toward the fireplace. She stretched her arms above her head, rolling her spine until it reached a pleasant pull and felt his eyes burning into her. The tail of the shirt slid up her thighs just under the curve of her bare bottom.
The springs of the couch signaled Angel’s approach though she heard nothing else to give him away. Not until he was right behind her. Close enough that her body felt an electric charge just before his hands reached out to touch her. Concern filled his voice overshadowing any anger he felt at her comment.
“Did I…hurt you?” Angel could barely ask, his voice low and damning. He’d been vigorous, amazing and attentive giving her pleasure in a way she hadn’t known her body to be capable. Cordelia’s greatest hurt was that she thought they’d been making love.
Apparently, it was just sex. Comfort sex meant to help her forget. Even worse, it might’ve been pity sex. The fact that Angel never said he loved her proved it in Cordelia’s mind.
Yes, he thought she was a hottie, but who wouldn’t? And if it had not been for Drusilla putting those crazy ideas in her head, she was sure she never would have considered doing it with a vampire. But then, Angel was not just any vampire.
“No, it’s not like you bit me,” Cordelia might’ve preferred something more visible to remind her that it never paid to let people know you cared. She tried not to let her anger show when she turned around to face him. Telling him, “I’m just a little sore in a few unmentionable places.”
Angel was visibly relieved. “It won’t always be that way.”
“Not that you’ll ever know,” she snapped, slapping his hands away. So much for trying to control her anger. “Tell me, Angel, do virgins really turn you on or do you just get off on damsels in distress?”
She poked him in the chest when he didn’t move a muscle. “I suppose it’s really just a Buffy thing. Let’s get one thing straight—I’m nobody’s substitute.”
“Just a goddamn minute,” Angel snatched her wrist as she stormed past him. He pulled her hard against him, his eyes dark with hurt and fury. “Buffy’s got nothing to do with this.”
Cordelia slapped his chest hard, but he trapped her hand there against that wall of muscle and the thin layer of his shirt. “Hey! Let go, Brutus.”
“Not until you hear me out.” He growled when she continued to struggle. “Just listen. We can’t do—”
“Lalalalalala,” she sang loudly to cover up the sound of his words not caring a bit that it was childish. When Angel stopped and stared, “I don’t have to listen to you and I won’t,” she smirked triumphantly getting back to the song. “Row, row, ro—”
Trying to reason with her was impossible. Cordelia could not see any other way of looking at Angel’s reaction. She did not want to hear whatever it was he had to say on the matter. Unfortunately, her tactic did not seem to be chasing him off. Angel’s look of confusion changed to frustration and then to anger.
Catching a brief glimpse of it, Cordelia barely had time to catch a breath before Angel’s mouth crashed down on hers. The hold on her wrists tightened. Her arms were pushed down and behind her, wrists grasped in one hand as Angel brought the other up to still her movements. His angular lips stifled the annoying song, capturing her mouth, coming back again when Cordelia opened up to protest.
Then her hands were free as Angel released her wrists, his hand stretching across the curve of her bottom to pull her closer. She reached up to clasp his head, her fingers threading through the short strands of hair, angry that he would try to kiss her into submission. So she gave back just as much as she was getting until they were both moaning and panting.
Angel lifted her, pushed her back against the ornate tile surrounding the fireplace. A soft grunt emerged from her lips at the contact. Surprised eyes opened up to scan his face as she followed his guiding hands to wrap her legs around his waist. Thickly, “Don’t you see?” He pressed his aroused body into hers, moaning at the contact. Lips against her ear, he said, “I want you.”
A river of lustful shivers washed over her skin leaving her tingly and aroused. She was rethinking her pity sex theory and desperately wanting his mouth back on hers when Angel added, “But it’s wrong, Cordy. I can’t take advantage of you this way.”
“Wait, no—,” she uttered her confusion as he guided her back to her feet. “What do you mean ‘take advantage’? I wanted it, too.”
“That doesn’t matter,” his voice was harsh, chiding her in a way that suggested she should know better.
Cordelia was still breathing hard; her mouth, breasts and loins still aching with a needy throb already missing the contact. Nothing changed except that she knew he wanted her. Even that, she had already felt certain. No matter his lousy reasons for it, Angel hadn’t altered his decision. “You really want to break up with me?”
There was hesitation there. Cordelia watched Angel’s head dip low, his hands now in his pockets. When he looked up again, eyes gleaming in determination, Angel answered simply, “Yes.”
After everything else that had happened to her tonight Cordelia felt devastated, but she was not about to let him see that. Holding her head high, fighting off the tears that threatened to show, she brushed past him pausing at the door. “Fine, it’s over.”
He looked stunned, hit by a ton of bricks at her quick agreement. “I-I want us to stay—”
“Friends,” she let out a harsh pfft, “Do you really think that’s possible now?”
Angel did not bother to answer. He knew just as well as she did that they had gone too far to get back to just being friends. Maybe that was his problem, theorized Cordelia. He’d found that he couldn’t be ‘just friends’ with Buffy and now wanted their intimacy back.
“You’re such a bastard, Angel.” Well, he could not have both of them. Cordelia Chase was not going to play second fiddle to Buffy Summers. “Just because you can now have sex anytime you want, or with anyone you want, doesn’t mean you can play games with me. I was wrong when I said I loved you. I don’t even know who you are.”
Flinging open the door, Cordelia turned to make her grand exit. A scream left her throat in ear-piercing intensity as the shadows leapt out at her. She reached out toward Angel who was suddenly by her side, but he saw as she did that there was no demon. Xander and Willow fell forward from their leaning positions tumbling to the floor. The sudden shift of the door had knocked them off-balance. Not so the Slayer. She was still standing, her eyes opened wide as she stared at them, face pasty pale in the shadows.
“We—,” Xander panicked looking to Willow for help.
Her mouth dropped open, but quick thinking kicked in. “We heard shouting.”
Buffy didn’t bother with an excuse. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, her jaw tight, stunned gaze traveling slowly from Cordelia to Angel and back again.
“Lurk much?” Cordelia glared back. Practically growling, “You’re just in time for the good news. Angel is on the market again. I highly recommend the pity sex. It gets a five-star rating.”
Shoving her way past Buffy, she headed down the hall refusing to look back. The sound of Buffy’s voice saying Angel’s name was enough to cause her temper to flare. Blood roared in her ears drowning out their conversation.
