All That Falls

by Kimberly Frost

  “Again with the amazing generosity. I can’t imagine how people haven’t taken incredible advantage of you over the years.”

  “It’s to be the dancing then?” he asked, unperturbed by her sarcasm.

  “It’s to be nothing,” she said, her tone cool. “You can keep me from leaving—for the moment. But you can’t force me to dance. Or to do anything I don’t want to do.” She glanced around, likely calculating escape strategies.

  If it was to be a standoff of wills, he could certainly outlast her, but he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her for hours without falling victim to his own desires. He’d end up seducing her. It would be better to compromise to gain her quick compliance.

  “If you agree without delay, I’ll give you something you want,” he said.

  “The book?”

  He wished he could lie as well as Merrick. Then he could’ve said yes and she would’ve believed him, but his hesitation cost him any chance he had of convincing her he’d trade the book for her compliance.

  “No, but I’ll tell you something about it that you need to know.”

  He could see that the proposition intrigued her. Her gaze turned intense as she looked back at the duffel.

  “What could you know about it? You just found it, didn’t you?”

  “That’s my offer. Information in exchange for you performing for me.”

  “Why the hell do you want me to dance for you anyway? If you want to see someone perform Swan Lake or Giselle, all you have to do is buy a ticket. There’s always some great ballet company somewhere in the world performing one or the other.”

  “It’s you in particular I want to watch.”

  She smiled in spite of her annoyance. “Why?”

  “Because you’re an exceptional dancer.” And because you’re the woman with whom I’m infatuated.

  “I couldn’t do it justice. I don’t have pointe shoes.”

  He walked to the closet and produced a pair of her custom plum-colored ballet shoes from within.

  “What the—I accidentally left those behind at the studio. When I went back they were gone. I assumed some dancer thought she’d get additional inspiration from wearing a muse’s shoes. Did you—how did you get them?”

  He handed them to her without answering and walked away, listening for the sound of the door handle turning. If she bolted, she wouldn’t reach the elevator or the stairs before he retrieved her, but he wasn’t interested in giving chase. That would only stoke temptation’s fire. Chasing a woman, capturing her, carrying her back…afterward he’d have a very hard time just watching her dance without going further. And this could only go so far.

  When all the furniture was along the wall, some of it tipped onto its side to allow maximum floor space, he turned to her.

  “I require one other thing.”

  She still leaned against the door and a brow rose.

  “You won’t dance in those clothes. You don’t need to be nude. Your undergarments are acceptable.”

  “Acceptable to you maybe.”

  He rolled his eyes. “If I can’t see the way your muscles move, it will detract from my pleasure in watching you.”

  “How unfortunate for you. Life is full of disappointments.”

  “It is, but this won’t be counted among them. The apartment’s warm. With the exertion of dancing, you’ll be more comfortable in less clothing. And you don’t need to be modest; I’ve already seen you nude.”

  Chapter 9

  Suppressing the urge to gape at him, Cerise clenched her jaw. “Is that so? You’re quite the Peeping Tom. Nothing better to do with your time? Had to turn to voyeurism?”

  “As you like,” he said with a shrug.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like. I’m never outside in the nude. No skinny-dipping or nude beaches for a muse when there are paparazzi with long lenses, which means that you must have engaged in some creepy stalker behavior in order to see me naked. Care to explain?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Well, do it anyway.”

  “I decline, but I will get dressed if it makes you more comfortable.”

  As he slid his pants on, she flashed her middle finger at him and turned to the door.

  “Wait,” he said as she jerked the door open.

  She looked over her shoulder and added angrily, “You stalked me, so you owe me an apology for invading my privacy, too. As I see it, we’re even. More than even. I didn’t drag off your blanket to ogle you naked.”

  “No, you ogled me with the blanket in place,” he said with an amused smile.

  “Asshole,” she snapped.

  “And for the record, I wouldn’t have cared if you had removed the linens. I’m not shy and have no concerns over being seen in only my skin.”

  She stalked out of the apartment and down the hall. When she reached the elevator, his hand was there, covering the buttons so she couldn’t summon it.

  She grabbed his arm with both of her hands and yanked. His forearm muscles clenched, and his hand didn’t give way.

  “Let go!” She slapped her right palm back against his chest and shoved. He didn’t take a backward step or even bobble. He was flesh-covered granite, which despite her current fury was, on some level, appealing.

  She spun, but her foot caught on his ankle and with the force of her movement, she stumbled. He caught her arms, which kept her from slamming her knees onto the wood floor, but she still ended up kneeling.

  Staring directly at his groin, she was glad he’d donned pants. She couldn’t help but notice though that he seemed to be well made everywhere.

  She clenched her eyes closed, shaking her head.

  “Interesting position. Have you a new proposition, Cerise?” he asked.

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled.

  When a moment passed, he said, “Open your eyes.”

  Her lids rose, and she saw his chest. He’d lowered himself to one knee. Her gaze met his eyes.

  “You agreed to dance for me. I won’t allow you to renege now. It means too much to me to watch you perform, but I acknowledge your point regarding my trespassing on your privacy,” he said. “I wasn’t spying on you to watch you undress, but my vantage point allowed it to happen. For amends, I’ll dance the male role tonight. I can still stand back and watch you during the sections where you don’t have a partner. During the couples sequences, I’ll perform, too.”

  “Dancing with me, that’s your idea of making it up to me?”

  “For certain,” he said with a nod. “I’ll be the best partner you’ve ever had.”

  She stared into his eyes and felt her muscles tighten in anticipation. She loved to dance, but at nearly six feet tall and built like an Olympian herself, she wasn’t exactly lithe.

  “You know the steps?”

  He gave her a look that said it was a ridiculous question.

  She sighed, not sure she should go along with anything that would put her in his iron-hard arms.

  “The best partner I’ve ever had, huh?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She bit her lip. “All right. Show me.”

  He rose and held a hand out to her. She took it and returned with him to the apartment.

  “You still have to shed some clothes. Your arms must be bare.”

  She appraised him. She accepted that her clothes were too restrictive to dance in, but she wasn’t particularly comfortable with stripping in front of the poster boy for physical perfection, even if he had seen her naked in the past. So though it made her annoyed with herself for falling prey to old insecurities, she stalled.

  “First put the music on and show me what a great dancer you are.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he executed a flawless combination of leaps, rising so high and spinning so fast that it was like he’d bounced off a trampoline or been shot from a cannon. And despite all that power, his arms and feet were perfectly positioned. He landed noiselessly.

 
; Fucking hell. Does everything have to be so beautiful? Considering he’s fallen, it hardly seems fair. And as a dancer, how am I supposed to walk away from someone who can move like that? Not possible.

  Without a word, she drew her blouse off and tossed it aside, and the pants joined it.

  She walked to him. “Start the music.”

  He smiled and did. When he returned from the stereo, she didn’t hesitate. They launched into the choreography they both knew inside and out. And from the first moment that he lifted her, so completely solid and confident, she let herself go. Eventually classical music gave way to modern, but they didn’t stop dancing. Without choreography, they found their own moves.

  It might have been two hours. It might have been four. When she finally sat on his bed, glowing with perspiration, she watched him with a bemused expression.

  “You didn’t lie.”

  “I rarely do.” He sat next to her, more it seemed to be companionable than from fatigue. “As I said, I don’t have the way of it. You’re a very talented dancer, but your greatest talent is singing. When you sang the Christina Aguilera song, I realized how impressive your voice is.”

  “It’s the muse magic. There’s a vibration that enters our voice. It stimulates the human brain, inspiring creativity and activating a lot of usually dormant parts.”

  “Hmm. I’m not able to fall under its sway, but almost wish I could. Your voice…the way you sing and dance…” He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “It reminds me of home.”

  So that was why he’d been so determined to get her to perform. That her dancing brought heaven to mind for him was flattering. Really flattering. “You miss it.”

  “Of course. As was intended.”

  “Why did you rise up? Was it really ambition?”

  “I didn’t rise up. I wasn’t part of the insurrection.”

  “But you’re fallen.”

  “Yes,” he said bitterly. “I broke a law of heaven, but never with the intention of turning against God or a brother angel. I’m fallen, but I’m not damned.”

  “The difference being that you live on earth rather than in hell?”

  He nodded and added, “The difference being that redemption is possible for me.”

  “How will you redeem yourself?”

  He opened his mouth, but closed it before answering. The pause stretched on until he finally said, “When the critical moment comes, I’ll do whatever heaven requires.”

  She glanced at him.

  “As you saw earlier tonight, Merrick and your friend are in danger,” he said. “They may need my help again soon, but they won’t need yours. So if only one of us can stay, it should be me. Go home. Having you here complicates the situation.”

  She frowned, irritated at having been dismissed again, especially after what they’d just shared. “So sorry to complicate things.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched up. “I don’t think you’re sorry. Alissa works hard to keep the peace, but I don’t believe you’re inclined that way.”

  “No,” she said and smiled. “Peacekeeping isn’t my job. I’ll tell you what though. I’ll go home and leave you alone if you give me back Griffin Lane’s songbook.”

  “It’s amusing the way you think you can bend me to your will.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ll just hang around and be as disruptive as possible.”

  She didn’t anticipate the movement. One moment, they were lying side by side, the next he’d rolled so that he lay right next to her, his torso above hers, skin touching skin. Her breath caught, her body warming. He lowered his mouth to just above hers, and she inhaled his cool breath, which held traces of mint and spice. It tantalized her.

  “Cerise, I am fallen, but I’m an angel still. You’re no match for me. I can kiss your lips until you’ll want nothing to touch them but my flesh. I can bring you to your knees with a word or a look. I warn you one last time. You’re a distraction I can’t afford. Please go home. I like you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She clenched her jaws. She wasn’t as weak-willed as all that. She was a muse. One of the four most powerful in the world. She’d been given a divine gift just like he had. He might be an archangel, but he was still only flesh and blood. Beautiful flesh, but not tempting enough to make her lose her mind. No one was that beautiful.

  “You think you could break me?” she scoffed. “With your fists, sure. But with a kiss? No. Never.” She caught a lock of his hair and closed her fist on it, tugging hard, drawing him until their lips brushed each other. “Go ahead and try.”

  “You challenge me?” he demanded. “You’re a fool,” he said and, exhaling, he added in a whisper. “And so am I.”

  A cool hand descended to her belly, and, against her will, her muscles clenched in anticipation. His gaze lowered to where her breasts threatened to spill out of the plum cups of her bra.

  “It’s not an accident that women’s bodies are round,” he whispered, his hand sliding up along her ribs, his thumb skimming the undersurface of her breast. “Round and soft like the curves of a cloud. Bursting and ripe like fruit. Breasts. Hips. Buttocks.” His hand slid down, raising gooseflesh. He squeezed the curve of her hip, and her heart thumped in her chest.

  “Even between your legs,” he whispered. “Plump and succulent.” He licked his lips as if tasting her. “At first, women were conceived as companionship and comfort for men.” He looked through his lashes into her eyes. “But then we were carried away by the dream of you. With exertion, your skin tastes like the sea. With lust, your bodies grow juicy with arousal.” A slow smile curved his lips. “Nothing was accidental.”

  On the last word, he bent his head and sucked her lower lip into his mouth as if to consume her.

  “You were made in the image of what we most want to devour.”

  A touch, a lick, and then a tangle of mouths and limbs. His breath was cool, and she drew it in like the morning mist. Her heart hammered, her muscles contracted, and she twisted her fingers through his hair and held tight.

  She’d never tasted his like and very quickly, she wanted to consume him, too. Her arms locked around him, pulling him closer until they were pressed together. It was the dance all over again, but with less control.

  He sprung the clasp on her bra and pushed it aside. The stroke of his tongue pebbled her nipple. His fingertips hooked the lace of her panties and dipped inside as the strands of his hair trailed over her, a silky caress against aroused skin. It all drove her onward with a pounding heart.

  He sucked and teased with his teeth until she writhed, until her body was desperate and hungry. Then he slid down, dragging her panties off, and pushed her thighs to the sides of his broad shoulders, spreading her open.

  True to his word, his intent was to devour her. And he did.

  Her body clamped around his thick tongue as it thrust into her. The rake of teeth and thumb between her legs was excruciating. And exquisite.

  An orgasm wracked her body, and he continued until the sensations became so raw, the rest of reality fell away.

  When he rose above her and she felt the smooth head of his cock seeking entry, she gasped, “God, yes.”

  He shoved forward, stretching her pulsing flesh around him. The aching hunger built, her womb cramping in anticipation, beating like a second heart.

  He closed his eyes. “Warm and wet and welcoming,” he whispered. “I can taste heaven in your heat.” He pulled back and thrust forward, making her body a conquest. Hungry to be claimed, she met him, joining a frenzied rhythm.

  Then without warning, he withdrew. She cried out, her body screaming a protest.

  In an instant, he was off the bed and backing away.

  Her voice was deep, melodic, and sensual. Infused with passion and magic, she said, “I want you.”

  He paused, rigid and still. “I know.” He clenched his jaws, straining to resist his own need. “And I want you with a force that rivals hurricanes, but I…” The intensity of his gaze seared her skin.
/>   She held out a hand.

  “Don’t,” he whispered hoarsely and then swallowed. “I almost didn’t stop. Almost couldn’t.”

  Still burning for him, her voice was laden with seductive promise. In that moment, she would’ve done anything he asked to have him. “Come back to me.”

  He took a half step forward, but then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I did warn you.”

  She realized too late. By the time she lurched up to grab him, he was out of reach. With inhuman speed, he burst out the balcony doors, wings erupting from his back and, in a flutter of turbulent air, he was gone.

  Lysander sat on the stone ledge at the southwest corner of Merrick’s building, cursing and battling the urge to return to her.

  The girl was remarkable. He’d sensed it from the first. Fierceness of will. Strength and softness of body. He twisted, restless in his skin. Being inside her, being pressed against that warm, radiant flesh, he’d nearly lost himself. He’d never meant to get so carried away. He’d left her aching and confused, and there was no excuse for that. Consummating their relationship could’ve put her in danger and could’ve compromised his chance for redemption. He’d had no business sitting next to her on that bed. He knew better. He should’ve enjoyed the dance and let her go.

  Especially considering that the release from sex would’ve created only temporary warmth and satisfaction. Still, he’d wanted it. So badly. To meet someone whose company he wanted to bask in was rare. He hadn’t wanted to leave. Of course he hadn’t. Being exiled from heaven meant an endless aching chill. It meant he could never get warm or be truly at peace. The demons likened it to a drug being withdrawn, and they should know. They’d created the chemicals that could simulate the feeling of lightness of soul and which when withheld created a gnawing desire for their return. Demons suffered their banishment from heaven and visited that same kind of suffering upon mankind. Spite. It was a term, an idea, that had not existed among angels before the uprising and the fall.