CHAPTER THREE
Connor quietly entered the bedroom area of the loft. Cordelia lay asleep, the covers kicked to the bottom of the bed. Moonlight spilled in through the warehouses' uncurtained windows. Her white nightgown was bunched up around her waist. The way she lay revealed the curve of her buttocks and the cute white panties she had on with their fiery little hearts. Her nipples were just barely visible as dark shadows under the translucent cloth of her gown.
His breath caught as his body responded to the sight of her, to the subtle scent of her perfume, Dolce and Gabbana. He remembered that it was expensive, having nearly broken the bottle by accident. Cordelia rationalized the expense by saying she used so little it lasted a long time and was worth it. The warm mix of roses, jasmine, oranges, sandalwood and vanilla that comprised her perfume made his blood surge. He wanted to join her now in that bed, but even he knew that was creepy and wrong. One didn't just sneak up on sleeping women. Okay it was his bed and he did have to get into it somehow. He figured not covering her body with his was the safe way to do it. But he wanted to hold her close, to pull himself into her completely.
But it was more than just this moment that made him want her. He had thought about it through dinner. The pilfered wallet afforded them dinner at the Outback Steak House with plenty left over. The rare steak had been delicious. He tore into it with vigor, the way he wanted to tear into Cordelia. She had looked at him fish-eyed as he used his roll to mop up the blood on his plate but he had been taught never to waste food and told her so. She gave him the leftover bits of her chicken and they shared a chunk of cheesecake. She had flirted with him throughout dinner. He was certain of it, even though he really hadn't ever encountered the behavior before. Why else would she wear shirts open so far he could see the swell of her breasts if she weren't flirting, if she didn't want him noticing her?
She had had a margarita with dinner. The huge drink - delicious he had decided having snuck a taste when she went to the ladies room - had made her giggly. He appreciated this mood of hers. They talked about things that had nothing to do with her having no memory and less to do with his father. He liked it like that. He couldn't remember now what they had talked about but their fingers had met on the table as they talked, their ankles tangled under it.
But when they got home, Cordelia cooled somehow. She had read her magazine then gone to bed without him. Had he misread her intentions? He wasn't sure so he had let her go without protest. And he knew he had no business staring at her as she slept. But he couldn't deny the part of him that wanted her, wanted her to notice him, wanted her to never think of Angel again. His lips parted in a wicked smile as he imagined the look on his father's face if he ever found out that his son had stolen away his woman. That alone would make it worth it. He knew that thought was cruel and hurtful to everyone involved, himself included, but he couldn't help feeling that way.
Cordelia rolled in her sleep and he froze. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and see him in this state. If she had any interest in him, surely the idea of him watching her sleep would just ruin that. And beyond wanting to hurt Angel, Connor did want Cordelia for himself. He couldn't qualify how he felt, love or lust, he just knew that he did feel something undeniable.
Connor hobbled from the room and went into the bathroom. He had heard jokes from Gunn about cold showers. He got into the shower, startled by how painfully intense that could be. He had bathed in frigid streams in the demon dimension he had been raised in but it hadn't ever felt like this. He huddled against the back of the tub, cold water pounding his back, streaming around his buttocks. His errant flesh seemed fairly unimpressed by the cold water. He hated this. He hated having no control over his own body. Holtz had taught him this was a waste of energy better spent on other things, as if there had been anything to mate with in Quor-toth.
Connor's whole experience with women was a fumbling kiss with Sunny before she overdosed in a flophouse bathroom and his odd interactions with Cordelia and Fred. No one had told him this was normal for a teenaged boy. All he knew was Holtz's fanatical preaching born out of a morality a century out of date. He remained hunched up in the freezing shower until he was blue and shivering
Connor quietly entered the bedroom area of the loft. Cordelia lay asleep, the covers kicked to the bottom of the bed. Moonlight spilled in through the warehouses' uncurtained windows. Her white nightgown was bunched up around her waist. The way she lay revealed the curve of her buttocks and the cute white panties she had on with their fiery little hearts. Her nipples were just barely visible as dark shadows under the translucent cloth of her gown.
His breath caught as his body responded to the sight of her, to the subtle scent of her perfume, Dolce and Gabbana. He remembered that it was expensive, having nearly broken the bottle by accident. Cordelia rationalized the expense by saying she used so little it lasted a long time and was worth it. The warm mix of roses, jasmine, oranges, sandalwood and vanilla that comprised her perfume made his blood surge. He wanted to join her now in that bed, but even he knew that was creepy and wrong. One didn't just sneak up on sleeping women. Okay it was his bed and he did have to get into it somehow. He figured not covering her body with his was the safe way to do it. But he wanted to hold her close, to pull himself into her completely.
But it was more than just this moment that made him want her. He had thought about it through dinner. The pilfered wallet afforded them dinner at the Outback Steak House with plenty left over. The rare steak had been delicious. He tore into it with vigor, the way he wanted to tear into Cordelia. She had looked at him fish-eyed as he used his roll to mop up the blood on his plate but he had been taught never to waste food and told her so. She gave him the leftover bits of her chicken and they shared a chunk of cheesecake. She had flirted with him throughout dinner. He was certain of it, even though he really hadn't ever encountered the behavior before. Why else would she wear shirts open so far he could see the swell of her breasts if she weren't flirting, if she didn't want him noticing her?
She had had a margarita with dinner. The huge drink - delicious he had decided having snuck a taste when she went to the ladies room - had made her giggly. He appreciated this mood of hers. They talked about things that had nothing to do with her having no memory and less to do with his father. He liked it like that. He couldn't remember now what they had talked about but their fingers had met on the table as they talked, their ankles tangled under it.
But when they got home, Cordelia cooled somehow. She had read her magazine then gone to bed without him. Had he misread her intentions? He wasn't sure so he had let her go without protest. And he knew he had no business staring at her as she slept. But he couldn't deny the part of him that wanted her, wanted her to notice him, wanted her to never think of Angel again. His lips parted in a wicked smile as he imagined the look on his father's face if he ever found out that his son had stolen away his woman. That alone would make it worth it. He knew that thought was cruel and hurtful to everyone involved, himself included, but he couldn't help feeling that way.
Cordelia rolled in her sleep and he froze. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and see him in this state. If she had any interest in him, surely the idea of him watching her sleep would just ruin that. And beyond wanting to hurt Angel, Connor did want Cordelia for himself. He couldn't qualify how he felt, love or lust, he just knew that he did feel something undeniable.
Connor hobbled from the room and went into the bathroom. He had heard jokes from Gunn about cold showers. He got into the shower, startled by how painfully intense that could be. He had bathed in frigid streams in the demon dimension he had been raised in but it hadn't ever felt like this. He huddled against the back of the tub, cold water pounding his back, streaming around his buttocks. His errant flesh seemed fairly unimpressed by the cold water. He hated this. He hated having no control over his own body. Holtz had taught him this was a waste of energy better spent on other things, as if there had been anything to mate with in Quor-toth.
Connor's whole experience with women was a fumbling kiss with Sunny before she overdosed in a flophouse bathroom and his odd interactions with Cordelia and Fred. No one had told him this was normal for a teenaged boy. All he knew was Holtz's fanatical preaching born out of a morality a century out of date. He remained hunched up in the freezing shower until he was blue and shivering