She giggled breathlessly and kissed his skin as she pressed her body tighter to his, rocking in counterpoint to him, so that they both moaned.
“F-k,” he pressed his lips against her cheek. There was a shift in angle, and he swore again, the cords of his neck prominent, as he came, spilling over the inside of her thigh. He continued to rock against her until she followed, her grip on his shoulders tightening as her body trembled.
“I haven’t done that since I was your age,” he said with a half a laugh. “There’s a lot to be said for revisiting non-penetrative sex.”
He sighed regretfully. “We had better wipe you down, Lia, and I will give you a lift back to your house, or you will be late to work.”
He retrieved a tissue box from the other side of the bed and wiped his seed from her in a way that she thought seemed to spread it more than remove it. They dressed, and he drove her round to her house, removing his helmet in order to exchange lingering kisses, before she went to the door. Once she was inside, he rode off.
Cael was leaning against the open kitchen door eating an apple and wrinkled his nose as she edged past him. “You smell like dog.”
“I like dogs,” she replied snidely and retrieved a can of tuna from the pantry. She leaned over the sink whilst she ate it.
“You know they were a failed experiment, right?” Cael sat at the table. “Or a semi-successful one at the most. Something baked up in a petri dish of a cauldron and bred to be slaves. F-king one of them is barely a step above bestiality.”
She rinsed the can out and placed it in the recycling bin. “How do you know that?”
“The question is how come you don’t know that?” Cael replied haughtily. “The angelics experimented on humans, using magic, and from their experiments came the Others. Some were useful, like vampires and werewolves, so they were bred in higher number, which is why there are more of them now.”
“Angels aren’t real,” she scoffed at him. “Next thing you will be telling me that God is real.”
“Angels are real. God is not. At least, not in any realm we can access. Mostly, God is a fairy story retold by humans so long that they more than half believe it, and probably originated because of their association with angels, which they saw as being godlike and worshiped,” he watched her, his blue eyes intense. “But angels and devils are true. Essentially, they are the same, but they hold different beliefs on slavery.”
“So, the angels made the Others. Did they make us, too? Did they make witches and warlocks?”
“In a way,” his lip curled. “Witches and warlocks occur where angels or devils have f-ked humans.”
She sat at the table across from him, fascinated despite herself. “So, we have angel in us?” She asked.
“They don’t call themselves that, but, essentially, yes, witches and warlocks have an angelic being in their history, somewhere. Usually quite far back, as it is not exactly encouraged for them to fraternize with humans, being as humans are lesser beings,” he leaned forward towards her. “But, of course, in the past, it has happened. Humans are alike enough to the angelics to be appealing. There is always an appeal to slumming it, as humans would say, no matter the species.”
“You say human as if they are different to us.”
“Humans are different.” The roar of a motorbike out front interrupted. Cael laughed superciliously. “Those infernal machines are eternally interrupting us, Cecilia.”
“It would be Paris coming home. We have to get ready for work.”
“She is f-king another dog,” he observed coolly. “Is this something you do together? A bonding activity? Your version of slumming it?”
“That is… rude,” she stood, frowning. “Stop calling them dogs.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Walks like a dog, wags like a dog, barks like a…”
She walked to the door. “I am regretting renting you the room right now, Cael,” she said tightly.
He grinned, with sudden and bewildering charm. “Ah, but you want to know what I know, don’t you, Cecilia?”
She let the door close on the comment and headed to the shower before Paris finished kissing Brock goodbye and bet her to it. She showered quickly, and dressed in her black underwear, stockings, and garter belt in order to do her hair and make-up.
Paris let herself in and whistled. “Looking sexy, Lia. So, word on the grapevine is that you spent the day with a certain somebody.”
Lia watched her blush crawl up her chest and neck before disappearing beneath her foundation. She shrugged and returned to applying her eyeliner.
“I didn’t know that he lived so close. My run takes me right past the house he is renovating. We bumped into each other.”
“Fated,” Paris dumped her make-up case on the counter and started her own transformation.
“He has invited me to a family barbecue tomorrow,” Lia added. “Isn’t that like… a bit soon?”
“Not for them,” Paris replied confidently. “Brock took me to one the day after he met me. He wanted me to move in with him after three days and still asks me daily.”
“Really?” Lia looked at her in the mirror. “And you haven’t?”
She shrugged. “I have got a good deal here with my bestie, and it would mean you would have to find another housemate to help with costs. Plus, moving in with Brock…” She paused whilst she applied eye-shadow. “I get the sense that it is going to be a quick path from moving in, to married with babies, which means giving up my dreams of dancing. I am just not sure I am ready to do that yet.”
“I thought the plan was to marry a rich man, to finance dancing.”
“Yeah, I know. But Brock’s a family man. They all seem to be, you will understand when you go to the barbecue. Brock says things,” she heaved a sigh. “So romantic, really. Like I am his, his perfect person, the other half of him, his mate, and wants me to go look at houses with him… I am twenty,” she waved the mascara brush that she held. “I want to dance and f-k, not plan how many bedrooms we need by how many kids we plan to have.”
“You could be fifty, and I think you will still be wanting to dance and f-k,” Lia observed with a laugh.
“Yeah,” Paris laughed back. “Probably. So,” she leaned her hip against the counter and turned Lia, taking the blusher from her and applying it with expert strokes. “Did you finally do the deed?”
“No.” Lia was tempted to leave it there, but it was Paris. “We did… other things.”
“Oh?” Paris’ eyes lit. “Pray, do tell!”
Lia turned back to the mirror and took the magnetic lashes out of their case using the tweezers and carefully applied them. “Well, you know, we used our hands… and then, we had a nap together, and when we woke, we sort of,” she wasn’t sure she had the terminology for it and gestured with her hand. “On the outside. He was…” She shrugged awkwardly. “Really sweet. Didn’t pressure me into things.”
Paris snickered. “Oh, he is so gone.”
“What do you mean?” Lia brushed her hair up into a high ponytail.
“Oh, Lia, the man is head over heels for you. He has gone back to dry humping for you.”
“Is that what it’s called?” Lia wondered.
“It is what they called it when I was sixteen and dry humping.”
“Hmm,” Lia flicked her eyes to Paris. There was a criticism in Paris’ comment, a gentle and amused criticism, but it was there. “I am just not… I haven’t met the right person. I have just been waiting for the right person.”
“Until now,” Paris prompted.
“Maybe,” Lia conceded. When Paris jerked her eyebrows up, she sighed. “Alright. A very strong maybe.”
They finished getting ready. As they left the house, there was no sign of Cael. Lia scowled. “Shit. I haven’t given him house keys or gotten his rent off of him.”
“That’s okay,” Paris told her. “I gave him my spares. As to the rent, I wouldn’t worry. He has nothing but brand wear in his closet, and some nice watches. There is money there, for sure.”
“You didn’t!” Lia was scandalized.
“Poke through his room whilst he was in the shower?” Paris winked as they got onto the bus and scanned their cards. “Absolutely I did. I, for one, want to know what type of guy I am sharing a roof with.”
They took a seat near the back door, in the eye-shot of the driver’s rear-view mirror.
“Alright,” Lia muttered. “What did you find out?”
“Wasn’t a lot of time, really. But he had over a grand in cash in his wallet, so he is able to pay for his month up front. I would say he is just waiting to catch you at the right time. Lots of pricey clothing and shoes, more than fit in the bag, so I have no idea where it has come from. Great taste in clothes, by the way.”
They were ignoring the young men who were trying to get their attention. When they failed to draw them, the men created a V with their fingers and stuck their tongues in the space created, causing the others to laugh, and thrust their hips in their direction.
“D-kheads,” Paris muttered under her breath, pretending she was not threatened by the men’s carry-on.
Lia drew her power. “Blactero,” she murmured and sent it over to them.
The loudest of the group, gripping a pole and mocking w-king off in their direction, paused suddenly. “Baa.” He looked startled as the sound exploded from him.
His friends burst into laughter, until their laughter turned into baa’s.
“Baa?” One of them said to another, looking alarmed.
“Ba-aah.”
They had attracted the attention of the other passengers, who snorted with laughter.
“Bahaha,” one of the guys said seriously.
Paris’ almost spat her chewing gum. “Oh my god,” she said over her shoulder. “You guys are hilarious.”
“Baa!”
The bus pulled up at their stop and Paris and Lia stood.
“Finis,” Lia said, drawing the power back. She paused on the bus step. “Baaa.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave and stepped off, leaving them, bewildered, behind.
“That was just… so weird,” Paris giggled. “Whatever drugs they are on, I want some.” She threaded her arm through Lia’s.
Their breath blew out like steam as they hurried through the busy city center, indistinguishable from all the other young women doing likewise on their way to meet their friends at clubs, ducking their heads into their collars in an effort to stop the mist of the rain from melting their make-up.
“I will be happy when the weather brightens,” Paris continued. “This rain is ridiculous.”
“Mmm,” Lia agreed, her mind already on the club and seeing Raiden again.