Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or its characters. They are the sole property of Takahashi Rumiko.

-To Sip of Black Velvet-

Chapter 8: An Apology

WARNING: Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with sexually explicit content.

Weeks went by and I heard nothing from him. Not that I wanted to hear anything but it still irked me that he didn't even try contacting me. It had felt like more than just a tryst to me… and I thought that I at least deserved a formal apology.

Things for me couldn't seem to get any worse. Besides feeling destroyed emotionally or feeling nothing at all like there was some large chasm in the middle of my chest, it seemed that my ability to touch others with my voice had all but disappeared. Every time I took to the stage and started to sing I'd feel his presence caressing me like it had that night and my body wouldn't allow itself to sing from the deep place that only he could bring out of me. I knew it wasn't long before Miroku would have me taking drink orders and cleaning tables again.

"Kagome, what is going on with you?" Miroku asked after I languidly walked off the stage one night. The audience hadn't even been paying attention to me so I hadn't bothered to wait for any applause.

"Nothing Miroku, I'm fine… really." I replied back, noticing how dreary my voice sounded even to my own ears.

"Look Kagome, whatever it is that you've lost, you need to find it because you sounded soulless out there. I'm worried about you." Miroku exclaimed with a very worried look that matched what he'd said.

'Find what I've lost?—more like who I've lost.' I thought bitterly. And there was no way I was going to try and find him.

"Okay Miroku, I will." I lied to him and forced myself to smile. I always had to force them these days.

He smiled back at me and walked away contented with my lie.

As soon as he'd gotten far enough I groaned out loud. 'I'm a mess' I thought to myself. It seemed I'd be ruined without him. Sesshoumaru had somehow managed to embed himself into my life without even trying.

I hadn't lied to Miroku after all.

Later that afternoon, I tried to call Sesshoumaru.

I didn't know why I tried or why I had kept that stupid business card but when it went to voicemail I felt more foolish than ever. 'He didn't even pick up!' I screamed aloud to myself inside of my head. He had some nerve lying to me about being married—'He never lied about it.'—and then tricking me into sleeping with him—' He didn't trick me into anything' and then not picking up my phone call!—'Please, pick up for me.'

I screamed aloud for real as I cursed the voice inside of my head.

Another week went by and he hadn't called me back. I was back to cleaning tables at the bar 'until I got better' as Miroku put it.

I somehow sensed him before he'd arrived and turned to watch him as he entered.

He walked directly up to me.

"Come with me." He said evenly like he came into the bar to see me every day instead of like I hadn't seen or heard from him in over a month.

"Come with you where Sesshoumaru?" I replied and I cursed my voice for failing to sound angrier.

He grabbed my arm and led me out of the bar. I cursed my body for not resisting. Hopefully Miroku wouldn't be too upset.

He walked me to his car and opened the passenger door to his white lexus. I rolled my eyes but didn't hesitate to climb inside. I huffed out loud and crossed my arms when he got inside to drive. The car ride was quiet and before I knew it he was pulling up to valet parking outside of another hotel. I glared daggers at him and inwardly applauded my eyes for managing to do something right.

"We are only here to—talk, Kagome." He assured me, overlooking my glare and gracefully stepping out of his car. I decided that I would hear him out.

When we walked into another penthouse suite in another hotel that I assumed he owned, I almost felt nostalgic. Pushing the feeling into the recesses of mind, I turned around to face him as he shut and locked the door.

"So what did you want to talk abo—" I started before he grasped my face and fiercely kissed me. I tried for a moment to pry myself out of his hands but my strength betrayed me and then so did my lips.

He pushed me, neither too gently nor too hard, against the wall and pressed his body into mine. I felt him run his fingers through my hair before grasping the back of my head to force our kiss to be deeper. I felt surrounded by him… and felt more real than I had in weeks. The chasm in my chest was filled with a burning kind of peace as I held on to him tight and moaned against his mouth.

After I gave in, he slowed down. His kiss remained deep but grew gentle. His tongue movements were measured as if trying to commit the intricacies of my mouth to memory. He rubbed his smooth hands down my neck and collarbone before expertly undoing the buttons of my shirt one by one. With an easy motion he pushed my garment off of my body to drift down to the floor. Knowing fingers unlatched the clasps of my bra, and he pulled away from my lips to begin placing hungry gentle kisses down my neck, down my chest, and then down my stomach inch by inch.

I looked down at the beautiful demon who took his time savoring the taste of my skin. My body reacted to his every touch, tingling and shivering, as he worked his way down my form. Each of his caresses was calm and deliberate; it was so different from the last time. It was not frantic or rushed but tender. His motions did not speak of yearning or lust but of affection.

He was kneeling in front of me as his hands fumbled with the buttons of my jeans before he pulled them as well as my panties down my legs. When I actively stepped out of them fully, he gazed up at me and I didn't feel soulless anymore.

His eyes communicated an apology that his mouth could not with words; the golden depths were laced with sincerity as he picked my small frame up gently. Angling my upper back to lean against the wall and placing each of my legs on top of each of his shoulders, he steadied me with his hands by holding up my backside. I felt the cold air as it teased the wet warmth that lay between my thighs and I saw him breathe in my scent deeply and longingly before he buried his face there. I tangled my hands into the fine silver mane of his hair and just felt as he eagerly began taking all the hurt away.

After I ruptured and he carried my naked form into the bedroom to sleep against his strong clothed body, I could not bring myself to remember if it was before or after that I had forgiven him.

Word Count: 1217