He released me and sat at one end, and I understood perfectly well that he didnt want me cuddling up next to him. I sat in the middle of the bench, so as not to be too obvious, and looked at him.
Where were the Nightmen? His voice was as calm and dispassionate as always.
They came from under that bridge. I gestured toward the narrow passageway that led back into the darkness. There was a door across it now, faded and probably rusty. The area was desertedthe gloomy evening was too stormy even for the dour inhabitants of the Dark City.
He turned to look at the passage, then back. Theyre not anywhere around, he said.
How do you know that?
I know. Im not doubting your word. But if the Nightmen were here last night, theyre now in some other part of the city. He leaned back against the cement bench, now marked and splattered with the gathering rain. No one is going to see us.
See us do what?
At that moment lightning split the sky, so bright that for the first time the Dark City was bathed in crackling white light like an old Frankenstein movie, and then it was gone again as the sharp crack of thunder followed.
I rose. We should get out of here.
He glanced up at me. I couldnt find the cameras. They may not even existit wouldnt be unlike Beloch to lie in order to torment us. But if theyre there, I cant find them and disable them.
I had no idea why he was telling me this, telling me now. Another bolt of lightning, this time so close I could hear the sizzle as it struck nearby. He rose and took my hand in a tight, unbreakable grip, dragging me across the cobbled walkway much as the Nightmen had the night before. But Azazel wasnt going to kill me.
We reached the sheltered door and he released me, reaching for the handle. It was locked. He yanked at it, hard, but it was stronger than
it looked, and it didnt move. He swore beneath his breath, something foul, and looked around somewhat desperately. There was no other form of shelter.
I guess were doomed to get wet, I said, doing my best to sound cheerful.
Yes, he said. And shoved me against the door.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE ROUGH WOOD OF THE DOOR was hard against my back. I stared up at Azazel in astonishment. What are you doing?
His body crowded mine back into the darkness as his hands slid up my neck, his thumbs stroking my throat, and I knew a brief glimpse of fear. He kissed me, and if the fear didnt leave entirely, it morphed into an instantaneous arousal. Id wanted his hands on me, his mouth, his body pressed against mine, since Id awoken. No, Id wanted him since hed lifted me off him and Id turned away. This was what madness wasdestructive need that was drowning out common sense and wisdom and self-preservation. I whimpered against his hard mouth, put my arms around his neck, and pulled him closer still, letting him kiss me with a furious desperation that I met.
This was bad, I knew it. It would only end in disaster. Yet I couldnt stop, wouldnt stop. It didnt matter what price I would end up payingit would be worth it. Worth it to feel his hands slide down between us, slipping inside my coat, under my loose T-shirt, cupping my breasts through the lace of the bra. It had a front clasp, but he ripped it open anyway, and his fingers on the bare skin of my breasts made me cry out, aroused beyond belief.
I could feel the thickness of his erection against my stomach, and I was wet, that quickly, ready for him, needing him, not caring if he shoved me down on the cobblestones and took me there. I wanted his skin, and I pushed at his shirt, shoving it off his shoulders so that I could feel it, and I wanted so much more I could have cried. I could never have enough of this man, never in a thousand lifetimes. He was mine, he was my body and my soul and my heart, and I was caught so tightly with him I would cease to exist if someone tried to break the connection.
I kissed him back, my tongue against his, and closed my eyes, letting the delicious reactions sweep over me, the tightening of my breasts, the fluttering between my legs. He was pressed against me, hips against mine, and I could feel his long legs against the skirt I was wearing, and I momentarily cursed it, wishing I were wearing pants so I could get closer to him, wrap my legs around him. He rocked against me, and I felt a frisson of reaction, then another, as he bumped against me again, deliberately, pressing, and I remembered my fear last night of the deep blackness. I had survived and come through, wounded and yet complete, but I wasnt ready to go there again. It was too much, but hed shoved my T-shirt up, exposing my flesh to the cool, wet air. His fingers stroked my breasts, plucking, pinching the nipples gently, and a shiver went through me, a choking gasp as a tiny explosion rocked me.
He broke the kiss, moving his mouth to my neck, and I tried to speak. Lets go home, I gasped. I dont care about the goddamned cameras.
No, he said, his voice rough. His hands left my breasts, and I was afraid he was going to pull away.