I don't know what made me do it. Kissing her was the last thing I needed to be doing, but I did it anyway. One moment she was regarding me with cool, indifferent eyes and a dispassionate tone I wanted to rip from her throat, and the next my lips were against that same throat, caressing the slightly cool skin with parted lips.
She gave a satisfying shudder and instead of waiting for her to respond further I forced her to arch against me, my grasp tightening on her shoulders so she had no choice but to mold to my will. I felt a low hiss in her throat and growled once in response, burrowing my lips harshly into her skin, allowing my teeth to graze the surface.
A faint sound that in someone else would have been a gasp escaped from her lips and my hands slid to her hips, all but shoving her so her back pressed against the edge of her vanity. Her hands twisted free from my hold and I felt the familiar sensation of manicured nails raking up my back before settling to grasp my shoulders. It was so harsh…everything was harsh between us now. There was no trace of the former gentleness that occasionally transpired when we made love. This wasn't about love or emotion at all, but some fierce, unrestrained need that refused to be controlled. For so long I'd kept my distance from her, held to the anger she ignited in my veins, but as soon as we touched, everything faded into insignificance.
I felt her impatience, felt the movement of her hips as they pressed insistently against mine, and any sort of resistance my mind drew up was shoved away by that sensation alone. My hand slid up her back, finding the button at the nape of her neck, unfastening it with an expert twist that drew another low sound from her throat. Her hands were everywhere and then at the buttons on my shirt, my coat long since discarded onto the carpet.
Even while pulling the dress from her shoulders I could see she was beautiful, just as beautiful as she had been the last time. No, a voice in my mind whispered, not as beautiful. More. But I'd never tell her that, even if my mouth were free to do so. I'd never let her know that, or any of the things I'd been thinking over the past few days. Death sounded more enticing than those confessions.
My lips parted, trailing along her collarbone and shoulders with a heat I'd only begun to feel, and I felt the satisfying arch of her spine, the slight heat of her skin against my chest. She'd only managed to unfasten half the buttons but her hesitation quickly disappeared, and I felt her fingers begin to move with a quick frenzy…
Ring.
I froze, my lips against the hollow of her throat, and for a brief, fleeting instant I felt as though I were one of the hormonal teenagers I so often saw in the alleys of the city, being caught by his parents with a girl in his bed. She tensed, the heat in her skin flaring for another instant, and as the ringing sounded again, I knew that she was completely aware who was on the other end of that line.
After all, it was my phone ringing. Not hers.
But I didn't want to draw away. I did, of course, moving two steps back from her and allowing her to stand once again. She complied without a word, turning her back to me, and I didn't look at her as I reached down for my coat.
The phone was on its fourth ring when I drew it from the pocket, and a glance at the screen forced me to reality with the same feeling of being thrust into the burning sun.
Caitlin.
After closing my eyes for a brief instant I lifted them to glimpse her face. And even though she turned away before meeting my eyes I caught a glance of something in her expression I had never seen. I thought I'd known all her emotions after over a century in her company, but this one I'd never seen.
It was so foreign, so impossible to decipher, that I couldn't even draw up a name for it.
But as quickly as I saw it she turned away, fastening the button at the back of her neck, and my anger flared in my chest once more. I wanted to catch her by the shoulders again, shake her, and force her to…
Force her to what? I asked myself. What did you really think was going to happen here tonight? Did you really think she'd be waiting here, hands folded, for you to come back?
Had I really thought that?
Yes.
And that wasn't what she'd done. Something had changed in her, something had changed between us, and I didn't want to analyze it any more than I had already. Because I didn't like the conclusion I was reaching.
Caitlin. Caitlin was waiting. I needed to go to Caitlin.
I felt her eyes on me again, and I lifted my head to meet them. She didn't turn this time and I blatantly held her gaze for a long, frozen moment. We didn't say a word, and I didn't look away until the last possible moment.
I didn't look away until I walked out the door.