4 comments/ 11353 views/ 2 favorites The Table by the Window Ch. 02 By: Aswrite03 One Week Later "Rough day, kitten?" Sarah looked up from the piece of paper she'd been scribbling on for the last half hour, not surprised to see a smirk on Abel's face. "I quit my job." "Congratulations. Too bad they don't serve wine here, I'd buy us a bottle." Abel dropped his bag on his half of the table, sliding into the seat across from her. An eyebrow arched up at her lack of response. "Problem?" "I quit. My job." Sarah said the phrase again, slower, leaning forward and over-enunciating each word. "I'm unemployed." "I'm sure a busy little worker bee like yourself has money set aside just in case something happens. Although since you are unemployed, why are you still wearing your spinster clothes?" Sarah threw the pen at him, surprising them both. "I wasn't concerned with what the hell I was wearing when I quit the only job I've ever worked at. I was concerned with not causing any more of a scene than I already was." "You caused a scene? Forgive me, kitten, but I highly doubt it. Although you are working up to a minor one right now." Abel picked the pen up out of his lap and slid it back across the table towards her. His fingers tapped on the scarred wood surface, his eyes sparking with curiosity. "But if you want to tell me all about it, feel free to." "It was stupid." Sarah sat back in her chair, rolled her shoulders. She could feel her face settling into a pout, even though she knew it was ridiculous. "Mr. Brown decided that the best way to reprimand me for not answering the phone on the first ring was to call the firm's main line for an hour." "I'm not sure I'm understanding you. You didn't answer the phone on the first ring, which I'm assuming is firm policy. So instead of actually working, your employer spent an hour prank calling his secretary, ensuring that neither one of you got any work done?" Abel shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes briefly before he shook it back out. "You're right, that is stupid." "Why you--." "Maybe I should clarify. Your former employer is stupid. The man's, what, eighty? He should have retired a long time ago, or at least before you started working there. He wouldn't have spent the past seven years alternately making your life hell and pinching your ass if someone had forced him to retire." Sarah widened her eyes in surprise, both at the length of his speech, and the contrast between his words and his expression. His tone of voice was its usual mocking self, but there was more than a flicker of anger in his eyes. "I still say you should have slapped him, at least one good time." "Yes, because I'm going to get another job with a battery charge on my record." Sarah uncrossed her arms, resting her hands on the table. One restlessly spun the pen while the other tapped on the wood, as if she couldn't quite sit still. "I could take a month off. And it shouldn't be that hard to find a secretarial position. Maybe I can get on at the university." "Or maybe you should do something that you'll actually enjoy and that doesn't force you to wear clothes from the 1800's." Abel pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping on it rapidly while Sarah rolled her eyes. Finishing, he put the phone on the table, leaning forward, grinning. "But just out of curiosity, what color underwear are you wearing, kitten?" Before Sarah could answer, Abel's phone vibrated across the table. Whatever message flashed on the screen made him grin even wider. Standing up, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and slung his back over his shoulder. "Come on, kitten. I want you to meet a friend." Without giving her a chance to answer, he grabbed her hand and tugged her to her feet. The coffee shop was less crowded this week, and Sarah caught the smirk one elderly man sent in their direction. When they were out on the sidewalk, Sarah said, "People are going to start suspecting." "Suspecting what?" Abel pulled on her hand, and she did her best to match his pace. They were headed in the direction of Abel's loft, although Sarah was pretty sure that wasn't where they were going. When he dragged her down a dogleg alley, her suspicions were confirmed. "That we're doing something besides playing cards." She thought about taking her shoes off, but that would have meant taking her stockings off as well, and something told her that Abel was too impatient for that at the moment. "They probably think we're engaged in some torrid affair that requires us to meet in the coffee shop before rendezvousing at some cheap hotel." "First, I'd like to think we are engaged in a torrid affair, but without any of that nasty guilt that happens when you go behind someone's back." Abel stopped in front of a door that looked like something Jackson Pollack would have painted, giving it a sharp rap with his free hand. "And second, if we were rendezvousing, we wouldn't leave together. But you do get points for creativity and imagination." Before Sarah could respond, the door was flung open, and a tall, rangy man posed dramatically in the doorway. His gray eyes flicked over Abel for the briefest of seconds before sweeping to Sarah. His hair was as long as Abel's, but a rich, dark blonde, a shade before brown. Arching well groomed eyebrows, he laid one hand over his chest and sighed. "Abel, darling, what have you brought me?" "Inspiration. Let us inside, Joseph." Abel pushed Sarah in front of him, and Joseph angled his body so that she could walk past him. "And Joseph, her name is Sarah. Try and remember that." "Such a nice, wholesome name. Darling, you said you had the answer to all my problems. I have one week before my show, and I'm still missing my major theme." Joseph shut the door behind Abel, planting his hands on his hips. The ends of his scarf fluttered violently around his torso as he stalked forward, coming to a stop in front of Sarah. "She's pretty enough, but I don't see how she's going to bring me out of my artistic slump." "Kitten, take a seat while I explain to Joseph what he's apparently too blind to see." Abel paused, his mouth curving up in a half smile. "Or maybe he's gotten so used to looking at men that he's forgotten what a beautiful woman looks like." Sarah raised her own eyebrows briefly before settling onto something that was supposed to be a couch. She assumed it was a couch, although she had never sat on anything quite so uncomfortable. Whoever thought plastic was a good idea for this should be shot. There was no way anyone would be taking a nap on this. Although maybe that was the point. If nobody was inclined to nap, nobody would be inclined to stay. While Abel and Joseph held their consultation in furious whispers, Sarah scanned what she could see of the space. From what she'd gathered, Joseph was some kind of artist, and based on what the walls showcased, his medium was photography. Scooting to the edge of her seat, she began to absently flip through one of the portfolios on the chrome and glass coffee table. After a few pages, she reevaluated Joseph's specialty from photography to erotic photography. Her flipping slowed, finally stopping at one print. She tilted her head left, then right, then left again. It might have been the Kama Sutra, or it could have just been complementary yoga poses. But it looked really, really uncomfortable. She turned another page, and changed her mind. That looked uncomfortable. "Kitten." Sarah looked up from...whatever she was viewing to find Abel smiling that half-smile at her. "It's not nude--the studio is a little too middle class American for that--but it's close." "No wonder you asked me what color underwear I was wearing," Sarah murmured. Rising to her feet, she walked slowly around the room, paying closer attention to the photos on the wall. They were dramatic, beautiful in their starkness and simplicity. She came to a stop in front of one, tilting her head to the side as she examined it. Turning on her heels, she crossed her arms over her chest, studying Joseph with the same scrutiny she'd given his work. "What do you think?" "I agree with Abel--the suit is horrible. I won't know about the rest of you until we get you out of that monstrosity." Joseph tapped a finger against his mouth, tapping his foot to the same internal rhythm. "There's potential. And the fact that you didn't bolt as soon as you saw what was in that book makes me think there's more to you than meets the eye." Sarah turned back to the photo on the wall, giving it one long, last stare. "I'll do it. When?" "Now." Sarah glanced over her shoulder at Abel, now leaning against the door, ankles crossed lazily. "Since we're here. And you're now one of the unemployed." "Very funny." Sarah rolled her shoulders, spinning on her heels. "Alright. Let's get started, then." "This way, if you please." Joseph opened a set of double doors, flinging them open dramatically. Abel sauntered in, obviously at home in whatever space this was. Sarah followed at a slower, more cautious pace, coming to a halt at the threshold. Now this, this was more like what she had expected. Gone were the plastics and the glass and the chrome. The carpet was thick, almost shag, but not quite, and the most amazing cream color. Even as she looked over the rest of the room, part of her mind was wondering how anyone kept a carpet that color so pristine. There was a variety of furniture, all heavy wood and lush, red fabric, not velvet but something close to it. The windows were floor to ceiling, the same fabric that was on the furniture flowing from the valence to pool on the carpet. One corner held a selection of props, hats, umbrellas, fans, masks, and who knew what else. The one mirror in the room was obviously an antique, the glass slightly smoky with age, the mahogany frame glowing. The only true modern thing that Sarah could see in the room was Joseph's photography equipment, and a quick glance at it told her that she had a better chance of winning the lottery than figuring it out. "Alright, kitten. Time to get you out of the clothes." Sarah blinked, then smiled shyly, the words a reminder of the week before. Crossing to the center of the room, she came to a stop in front of Abel, both of them wearing the same half smile. His fingers had undone only two buttons when Joseph spoke up. "Stop. Just like that." There was a series of flashes, and when her eyes cleared, Sarah became aware of Joseph standing to her right, at the very edge of her vision. "When I tell you to stop, just freeze." "I wasn't part of the deal." Abel didn't look angry, more amused, and Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she dropped her eyes. "This is going to cost you, Joseph." "I'll pay the price. If you could see how the two of you look together." Joseph made some gesture that Sarah caught only part of, and Abel undid another button. "I'll apologize when we're done." "Be sure that you do," Abel murmured, coming to the end of the buttons. He held the two edges of fabric in his fists for a moment, waiting until the flashes stopped before pushing it off Sarah's shoulder, letting it drop to the floor. Sarah watched the small movement in his throat as he swallowed, and flushed at Joseph's whistle. "I take that back. I apologize now." The flashes were less bright this time, or maybe Sarah was just getting used to them. "I should hate the fact that you're always right." At Abel's urging, Sarah lifted her arms, the thin silk camisole gliding over her skin like a whisper. When she would have lowered her arms, a word from Joseph had her merely bending her elbows, resting her forearms on her head. Abel's fingertips skimmed down her cheek, across her shoulder, before flirting with the edge of the corset. "The skirt, Abel." Sarah watched Abel's face start to shift into a snarl at Joseph's interruption. Joseph must have been watching, too, because he hurriedly said, "Soon, Abel. Just have a little patience." Sucking in a deep breath, Abel knelt, pressing his face against the silk and lace that covered her stomach. If anyone besides Sarah noticed that his fingers shook slightly as they tugged down the zipper, they didn't say anything. There was a pause as the skirt hit the floor, and even though he was at least five feet away, Sarah heard Joseph gulp. Abel simply tilted his face up to look at Sarah, the hunger in his eyes almost feral. "Kitten. Warn me next time you wear something like this." This was something that she had bought and thought she'd never wear. Even with her tendency towards provocative underwear, it pushed the limits. But some little voice had told her to wear it today, for no reason. Sarah decided that if it put that look on Abel's face, she'd listen to that little voice more often. The red and black were a sharp, screaming contrast to the paleness of her skin, making it glow like a polished stone. The corset dipped low on her breasts, pushing them up, even as it nipped in her waist, coming to a teasing halt on her hips. The matching underwear was lacy and brief, little ribbons dangling from her hips, teasing the tops of her sheer black stockings. The stilettos were a good four inches, ice pick thin, with the slightest point on the toe. "What's the fun in that?" Sarah wasn't surprised to find her throat dry, her voice whisper thin and shaky. If being undressed by Abel was arousing, having someone watch was even more so, something she would never have imagined. They stared at each other for long moments while Joseph snapped away, the tension winding tighter with each second. At Joseph's shaky voiced instruction, Sarah turned around, felt more than heard the low sigh that passed through Abel's lips. Joseph cleared his throat, causing Sarah to slit her eyes in his direction. "By the window, I think. Sarah, if you could face the frame, give me your right side." It was difficult to walk across the few feet, her feet unsteady from the thick carpet and the desire pounding in her veins. When she reached the window, she braced her hands against the wood as if she were doing a push-up, arching her back, turning her face towards Joseph. Abel was still on his knees, and Joseph stood further back, his mouth gaping. Sarah closed her eyes, leaning the top of her head against her hands. The flashes were muted behind her closed eyelids, and Sarah flicked her tongue over her lips, pretending not to hear the quick breaths sucked in by both men. She didn't jump when Abel's fingertips rubbed the skin between her shoulder blades before sliding down to tug gently at the knot. There was the most gradual of loosening as he pulled the ribbon free from the eyelets, and Sarah ran her teeth over her bottom lip. "You're not actually supposed to pull it out." "It's for art." She felt his lips, the burn of them, press against the inch of skin newly bared. While Joseph snapped away, Abel teased the flesh with his tongue. His next words were muffled, but clear enough. "Don't worry, kitten. I'll make sure we get you put back together." Two more sets of eyelets, and Joseph had Abel stop again. Sarah's thighs were trembling, ever so slightly, but she knew that Abel could see. It helped that his fingers were trembling as well, and she did her best to relax, even though she suspected it was an impossible task. The skin moistened by his tongue felt cool, in contrast to the heat that seemed to pulse everywhere else. It took longer to pull the ribbon free from the next few sets of eyelets, and by the time Joseph had Abel stop, Sarah was biting her lip to keep from sighing. Last week had been hurried, almost frantic, even in its thoroughness. But this--this was almost glacial slow, every moment thick with tension and promise. It took her two tries to wet her throat enough to speak, and even then it was only a whisper. "I don't know if I want you to put me back together again." When Abel pulled the ribbon through one last time, Sarah felt the silk and lace fall away, leaving her bare from the waist up. She heard Abel stand behind her, felt the coolness of his shirt press against her back. She lifted her head slightly, began to protest as he wrapped the ribbon around her wrists, quieting when he spoke in her ear. "Do you trust me, kitten?" Her heart pounded erratically, and her breathing wouldn't quite even out. She should say no. They'd already gone further than originally discussed. She should say no. Instead, she nodded her head, ever so slightly. Felt his low sigh brush past her ear, followed by the lightest of kisses. "Thank you." He tied the ribbon loose enough to not chafe, but tight enough that she wouldn't be able to slip her hands out. He gave an experimental tug on them, and Sarah sucked a breath in. It shouldn't feel good, this lack of control. It shouldn't feel right. "Abel--." "Shh, kitten." His hands slid, one down her arm, the other up and around her torso to cup her breasts. She arched her back, pressing herself more firmly into his hold. They both moaned when he ground himself against her ass. His next words were breathy, almost a pant. "Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them." His hands fell away, and Sarah whimpered in protest. There was the sound of ripping fabric behind him, and Abel swore even as Joseph laughed. "I told you, darling. Patience. Good things come to those who wait." "Shut up, Joseph." The words came out through clenched teeth, even as Sarah heard the muffled sound of a belt hitting the carpet. The rasp of his zipper was almost painfully loud in the room, and Sarah had a sudden, almost overwhelming urge. Instead of fighting it, she followed it without thinking. Keeping her eyes closed, she spun on her heels, sank to her knees. Sheer determination had her keeping her balance, and she clenched her bound hands together in front of her. Leaning forward, she laved her tongue over warm skin, dipped into the indentation of his belly button. Her own stomach muscles tightened in sympathy when his jerked beneath her lips. "Kitten." The one word was hoarse and raspy, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair. Next to them, Joseph continued clicking, although at a slower pace. Even at a distance, Sarah could hear his breathing, as ragged as hers and Abel's. "You don't have to--." "Shhh." Sarah trailed her tongue over his right hip, felt the shudder that ran through him. She didn't have his tattoo memorized, but she knew she was in the right area. "I want to. Turnabout's fair play." Her tongue slid lower, and she felt the muscles in his thigh tighten. His fingernails scratched her scalp, and she hummed in appreciation. Resisting the urge to peek through her lashes, she trailed her tongue to the left, heard the quick intake of breath from above her. Sitting back on her heels, she dipped her head lower, running her tongue down the length of him before coming to his head. Her breathing was slow and steady, and she matched the swirl of her tongue to the lethargic beat of her heart. When his hands tightened in her hair, she opened her mouth, slipping just the head inside. His first moan when she curled her tongue along the underside made her weak with power. She moved her head forward slowly, taking him into her mouth in the smallest of increments. Even as swamped with need as she was, she knew she couldn't take the full length of him, probably no more than half. But when she ran her tongue up the bottom of his shaft, drew back until she could suck hard on just the head before sliding him deep again, the slight buck of his hips told her that no more than half was plenty enough. If Joseph was still taking pictures, she didn't know. She didn't care. All that mattered was the smooth length of him in her mouth, the shudders that moved through him almost continuously now. When she drew back again, swirling her tongue around his head, he groaned, long and deep. His hands tightened almost painfully in her hair, and he tugged until she pulled further back, his cock falling from her mouth. The Table by the Window Ch. 02 She could taste him, the minute saltiness of him on her lips, even as Abel pulled her to her feet, crushing his mouth on hers. His tongue swept inside her mouth, and she curled hers around it, sucking long and hard, until they were both breathless. When she would have stumbled, he caught her around the waist, pressing her tighter against him. The roar of her blood in her head almost overshadowed Joseph's words. "The fainting couch, Abel. Your heads at the foot." There was a thump, and Joseph cursed. "Hurry, for all our sakes." It was almost a dance, the half turning, half stumbling embrace that Abel kept her in. She felt her knees hit the side of something, and then Abel bore her back, swinging her body until her head was at the very edge of the cushion. Her hair tumbled down, the tips grazing the floor. His hands tore at the ribbon binding her wrists, until the knot loosened and her hands were free again. Her hips arched up, one leg curled around Abel's waist, the other planted on the floor. She gasped for air when his mouth left hers, gulping it in with ragged breaths. His hands were on her breasts again, kneading them until she arched her back and moaned, a long, low sound that she almost didn't believe came from her. When he bit the curve of her neck, she dug her nails into his back, dragged them down until he pressed his teeth tighter, hard enough to leave a mark. "How--, I don't, I need some help, kitten." Abel's fingers were shaking hard enough that managing the ties at her hips was proving impossible. Sarah pushed against his shoulders, nudging until he rose to his knees. In contrast to him, her fingers were remarkably steady as they tugged the ribbon, the bows untying with the barest whisper of sound. Their hands tangled together as they pulled at the scrap of silk, her hips raising just slightly to let the fabric slide from underneath her. "Abel. Touch me, please." Sarah bit her lip, the hoarse desire in her own voice shocking her slightly. Some part of her had thought it wouldn't be as intense, not when they'd already been together. And she was right--it was more intense. One hand slid up her torso until she cupped her own breast, massaging it with the same rhythm as Abel had earlier. The other slid lower, and she arched her hips as she ran her fingers up and down her slit, not surprised when they came away covered in moisture. She raised the hand up, felt his fingers encircle her wrists. When Abel's tongue curled around her fingers, she heard Joseph moan. And then the sound of his camera hitting the floor. Abel's tongue swirled around her second finger, and Sarah bit her lip. Then there was the lightest touch of fingers in her hair, and despite her promise not to, she opened her eyes in surprise, turning her head. Joseph was kneeling next to the sofa, one hand gripping the fabric so tight his knuckles were white. The other was moving through her hair, tugging gently when it met the small knots Abel had left behind. There was a fire and hunger in his eyes that Sarah had only seen once before, with one other man. Turning her face up, she looked at Abel, saw the blaze in his eyes, and the question. He wouldn't ask her, but he wouldn't force her. Whatever happened was her decision. Sarah used her one free hand to push up slightly, turning her torso towards Joseph. His hand twisted in her hair, and he met her halfway. Despite the need she could see on his face, feel in his hand, his kiss was surprisingly gentle, almost timid. His lips were soft against hers, and she instinctively leaned just a little closer, resting her chin on her shoulder. She swallowed his sigh, rolled it around her tongue, then gave him hers. The kiss deepened by degrees, until Sarah wasn't certain where one ended and the next began, only that she was lightheaded from desire and a lack of air. She felt Abel drop her hand, and she wondered hazily where his was. Seconds later, she felt him slide his hand down her stomach, his thumb rub her clit briefly before sinking three fingers into her. Sarah bit Joseph's lip in shock, and it was the final bit to break his control. Before she could draw a deep breath, Joseph had her pressed down onto the sofa, his tongue sweeping hers with a ferocity just short of possessiveness. The hand that had gripped the sofa so fiercely was on her breast, and the sensation was just short of painful. Sarah arched her hips up to Abel's fingers even as one of her hands closed over Joseph's, pressing it into her breast hard enough that she knew she'd have bruises tomorrow. She felt Abel's hand on hers, gently prying it away from Joseph's and pressing it into the sofa fabric. She gasped when Joseph ripped his mouth away from hers, intent on protesting. Then she felt him latch onto her nipple, and the only sound that came out of her mouth was a breathy moan. Abel pressed his fingers deeper, turned them ever so slightly to the right, and Sarah exploded, Abel's name passing through her lips on a whisper. Before her vision had cleared and her muscles had stopped contracting, Abel was pushing his way into her, sucking in a breath at the fluttering of muscles deep inside. Once he was fully encased, he stilled all movement, his hands gripping her torso, the thumbs teasing the underside of her breasts. Sarah didn't ask why he stopped. Next to them, Joseph was shedding his clothes, almost ripping them off in haste, but not quite. Abel nudged Sarah slightly with his hips, pushing her closer to the edge of the sofa. When her head was just barely over the edge, still mostly supported by the sofa, she heard Joseph moving around them. When she shifted her gaze from Abel to directly up, she wasn't surprised to see Joseph's cock almost directly over her face. It was difficult to tell from the angle, but he didn't look as long as Abel. Thick, yes, and almost pulsing with need, the head tapering just slightly. But less of a mouthful than Abel. At her slight resistance, Abel lifted his hand from her wrist, and she reached back with both arms. Her fingertips grazed the backs of his thighs, felt the whisper soft hair there. She pulled, just a little, and Joseph took a small, hesitant step forward. Both men were paused, waiting for her. Bringing both hands forward, Sarah wrapped one around Joseph's cock, squeezing it firmly. Both men sighed, and deep inside, she felt Abel twitch, as if in sympathy. Joseph was so hard, so ready, that she had to raise her head slightly even as she angled him down. When she would have used her free hand to brace herself, Joseph took another step forward, leaning over her torso. And when Sarah sighed, the slightest thrust of his hips pushed the head past her open lips. Closing her eyes, she murmured low in her throat, heard Joseph moan above her as the vibrations ran up his shaft. Where she would have been content with just the head, Joseph worked his hips backwards and forwards in small strokes, then larger ones. Sarah let her hand fall away, then move to cup her breast, the other following suit. She moaned low in her throat, the sound muffled, when Joseph dropped his head, took a nipple into his mouth, sucking slow and hard. At the first tiny, upwards movement of her hips, Abel ground himself into her, causing her to moan again. Joseph bit her nipple, not hard, but with just the edge of pain, before lifting his head. His words were a step up from a pant when he spoke. "If you keep doing that, I'll finish long before either one of you. And that's no fun." In response, Abel moved his hips back, matching the rhythm that Joseph had already set. When Sarah would have pushed her hips up, Abel gripped them, pressed them into the sofa. "Patience, kitten. I've been told it's a virtue." Sarah felt Joseph's muffled laugh against her breast, and responded by moaning, this time in teasing. She felt the slight swivel to his hips as he pressed deeper into her mouth, and the edge of teeth as he laved her nipple. A hand, Joseph's, or Abel's, she wasn't sure anymore, pushed her own hand away from her breast, rolling the nipple between calloused fingers before pinching firmly. She grabbed a handful of sofa, her spine bowing, pressing her breasts up into mouth and hand, both legs now encircling Abel's hips, pulling him into her. It was an almost silent ballet, punctuated by the grunts of both men and her own muffled moans. The movement of Joseph's hips began to speed up, ever so slightly, even while Abel kept the same steady pace. When Joseph pushed too far, too fast, and Sarah gagged, she heard Abel growl. "Play nice, Joseph, or go play by yourself." "I'm trying." There was an edge of pain in Joseph's gritted response, and Sarah felt his hand clench the sofa next to her head. "I'm trying, Abel." Pushing at Joseph's hips with one hand, she waited until he slid halfway out. Wrapping her hand around the base, slick with her salvia, she stroked him firmly even while she swirled her tongue around what remained in her mouth, flicking her tongue repeatedly across the underside of the head. At his expletive, issued through clenched teeth, she increased the pressure of her hand, and focused her tongue on just that one spot. Abel slowed down his strokes, but deepened them, grinding into her clit at the end of every one. After less than half a dozen of Abel's strokes, she felt Joseph begin to shake, his hands trembling in her hair. When he would have pulled back, she used her one free hand to grip his thigh, ensuring he stayed in place. She heard both men suck in breaths, and not even a second later, Joseph came. It filled her mouth, slid down her throat smoothly when she swallowed. His orgasm was long and slow and made her raise her hips to press against Abel's. He tasted sweet, or sweeter than most men, and some small part of her mind that was still functioning remembered that what men ate affected what they tasted like. Whatever he's eating, he should keep eating. When he pulled back this time, she let him, sighing as he slid past her lips. She opened her eyes when she heard him kneel, and widened them in shock when he kissed her, long and slow and deep. His tongue swept her mouth, ran over her teeth, until the only taste in her mouth was his kiss. When he let her up for air, he chuckled at her expression. "We're very cosmopolitan around here." Before she could respond, Abel ground his hips against hers, and she arched her back, her neck bowing back. Joseph ran his tongue over her shoulder before biting down. Abel growled again, and Sarah watched out of the corner of her eye as Joseph lifted his gaze to meet Abel's. "We're not that cosmopolitan. Mine, Joseph. Mine." And that ended the slow, steady rhythm that had been a tease in itself. Joseph turned his head until his chin rested on the sofa, the tip of his nose rubbing against Sarah's shoulder. Abel let his body drop until his face was inches from Sarah's, and now she was able to see the need that he'd kept in check. Abel pounded into her, sending her from one orgasm to the next until she was gulping air, barely able to see from shock and sensation. Abel's lips nudged at her cheek until she turned her face towards Joseph. There was hunger in his eyes again, but deeper, darker banked. Abel nipped at her ear, his breathing harsh and ragged, his voice thready with need. "Look at him, kitten. Look at him watching us, watching you. You're the only thing he can focus on. You could make him do anything right now, anything." Abel swept his tongue over the surface of her ear before dipping inside, making her shudder. "He would beg right now if it meant he could kiss you. Just kiss you." Almost as if on cue, Joseph inched forward until he was almost kissing her. Almost, but not quite. His fingers were in her hair again, scratching her scalp, tugging just the smallest bit. This close, Sarah could feel his words against her lips. "Please, Sarah. Please. Just one more kiss. Just one more." Sarah stretched her neck the half of half an inch necessary to press her lips firmly against his. At the instant Joseph's tongue curled into her open mouth, Abel turned his head, biting her shoulder hard enough that Sarah could have sworn she felt every tooth where it pressed against her skin. He slammed his hips into hers one final time, pressing his pubic bone against her clit, rubbing fiercely. Joseph swallowed Sarah's gasps and moans as she came one last time, her nails digging hard into Abel's back, hard enough that she was certain she was leaving marks of her own. Abel groaned low in his throat, unclenching his teeth from Sarah's shoulder as it tapered off into a low sigh. When Sarah finally fell silent, Joseph drew back, his tongue flicking over Sarah's lips one final time. The only sounds in the room came from Sarah and Abel, both trying desperately to catch their breath. Still naked, Joseph rose, picked up his camera, and snapped off a series of shots that Sarah would have objected to if she had the strength to object to anything. Lifting his head from his shoulder, Abel shifted just enough to take Sarah's lips with his, a long, slow kiss, that had them both sighing when he drew back. "One day, kitten, we'll get you out of the stockings and heels." His kiss this time was quick and light as he withdrew from her, tucking her against him as he rolled. There wasn't enough room for them to lay side by side, so Sarah wound up sprawled on top of him, her tangled hair a curtain around their faces. "Not that I don't like them. But it might be intriguing to actually get you all the way naked." "If even half of these sell for a quarter of what I intend to ask for them, you can run around naked all day. Or buy a business suit that actually fits." Sarah turned her head to find Joseph busy with his camera, scrolling back through the pictures he'd taken. Sensing her scrutiny, he looked up from the display, one eyebrow quirking up. "Let me guess. You thought I was gay." "Is it bad if I say yes?" Sarah tapped her fingernails on Abel's chest, stopping only when he laid his hand over hers. She bit her lip, pretending not to notice the way his eyes followed the movement of her teeth as she chewed for a moment. "Is it?" "Nope. Only a handful of people know I'm not, one of them being Abel. It makes everyone, men and women, more comfortable. Women because they assume I'm not interested, and men because I just don't look threatening." Joseph flashed her a smile full of teeth. "Looks can be deceiving." "Indeed." Sarah turned her face to look down at Abel, flushing when he slid her hand up to suck on her fingers. When she shifted her hips, felt him growing hard under her, he laughed low. "Go do some work, Joseph. You've been inspired enough." Sarah let him tug her face back down, waited until she heard the door open and shut before breaking the kiss. "He's not going to mind that we're in here?" "Kitten, do you think I care?" The Table by the Window Ch. 03 "Do you always answer the door dressed like that, kitten?" Sarah flushed, pulling the thin cotton robe tighter around her. "I knew it was you. That's why there's a peephole." "And here I thought it was a clever device to be used in some half-wit's demise." Abel pushed the door at its hinges, forcing it open wider. "Were you planning to invite me in, kitten, or do I have to stand on your doorstep all night?" "Do you really expect me to believe that you'd stand there all night?" Sarah stepped aside, her gaze settling on the dress bag Abel had folded over one arm. Shutting the door behind him, she rebolted it, and turned to find him grinning at her. "What?" "You're right, I wouldn't stand there all night. You'd let me in before I had to get loud and dramatic." Abel turned a circle in the tiny foyer, looking for something. After a moment, he pivoted to face Sarah. "Where's the rest of it?" "The rest of what?" It was awkward, in an awkward way, having him in her apartment. In the two weeks since they'd met, he'd been as far as the lobby, with her insisting that she could manage to find her own way upstairs. He seemed out of place, completely foreign in a way that he never did anywhere else. "The rest of the apartment, kitten. This is barely the size of my sleeping area. It's probably not even half of my loft." Abel turned another half circle, bumping into a coat rack. "Why the hell do you have a coat rack?" "Because I like the idea of having one, even if I don't have a coat. And my apartment is small because my paycheck was small." Sarah squeezed past him to stalk into the living room, dropping onto the loveseat. Crossing her arms over her chest, she scowled at him. "Actually, my paycheck is nonexistent. Which means it's really small compared to yours." "If your paycheck is nonexistent, is it even possible to make an accurate comparison?" Abel ducked, barely missing the pillow Sarah threw at him. Laying the dress bag on the hall table, he picked up the pillow, using it as a shield when she threw another one. "Have you noticed that you've gotten more violent in the past week?" "Throwing a pillow is not violent. Throwing a knife would be violent. Throwing a pillow is just..." Sarah trailed off into giggles as the small neck roll pillow she launched at Abel hit him square in the face. "Fun. I thought your reflexes were a little better than that." "Forgive me, it's been more than a few years since I was involved in slumber party antics." Abel looked at the pillow in his hand, and the pillow in hers. Instead of throwing it, he dropped it to the floor. And took a flying leap over the coffee table, landing on top of her. Sarah shrieked, then giggled helplessly when Abel winced at the sound. Before she could squirm away, his fingers were digging into her ribs, making her breathless with laughter. Her own hands were trapped between them, so that even if she could have managed to breathe, she had no offensive weapon. It was only a matter of minutes before she gave up. "Uncle, uncle, uncle! Abel, stop." She could barely get the words out for laughing, and tears were streaming down her face. She used the little bit of leverage she had to push against him, hoping he'd get the message. "Please. Oh, God, I can't breathe." Halting the motion of his fingers, Abel leaned over, capturing her mouth with his, cutting off the giggles. His tongue was smooth and slick against hers, and they danced playfully back and forth for long minutes before he drew back, kissing the tip of her nose. Tucking her against him, he maneuvered around on the small loveseat until his legs were hanging off one end while his head rested on the arm of the other, with Sarah sprawled over him. Sarah concentrated on getting her breathing to even back out, even while the random giggle or snicker still snuck through. Abel stroked his hand up and down her back, both of them sighing contentedly when she snuggled closer. Sarah felt his lips graze the top of her head and closed her eyes. When she spoke a few minutes later, her voice was low and slightly slurred with sleep. "What's in the bag?" "What bag?" Instead of his fingertips, now it was his nails running up and down her back, and Sarah wiggled her toes at the tingles the minute contact gave her. "The bag you brought over. Before you started in on how small my apartment is." "Your apartment is small." "It's cozy." "Kitten, cozy is just another way of saying small. Like calling short people petite. It just sounds better, but if you have half a brain, you know what's really being said." Abel twisted his head absently one direction, then the next. "What time is it?" "Look at the clock." Sarah curled one arm over his chest, her head rising and falling with each of his breaths. "It's over the television." "You mean the small, square box that transmits pictures, probably in black and white?" Before Sarah could think of a response, Abel was cursing and pushing to a sitting position. "Shit, we're gong to be late. Joseph's going to have an aneurysm." "Late for what?" Sarah would have tumbled to the floor if Abel hadn't held her as he rolled off the couch, pulling them both to their feet. "And what's in the bag?" "We're going to be late for Joseph's show, which you're a major part of--and I am, too, apparently. And what's in the bag is a little something for you. So you don't have to wear the spinster clothes." "His show is tonight? When?" She shot a look at the clock. Already six-thirty. "In thirty minutes." When Sarah spun on her heel, her mouth agape, Abel shrugged his shoulders. "Move fast, kitten. And no arguments about what's in the bag. Although one request." "Quick, because you're not giving me a lot of time." Sarah already had the bag in her hand and was heading towards the bedroom when he answered. "Make sure what they can't see is as good as what they can." "You're late." Joseph whispered the accusation through tight lips and a bright smile, leaning in for a European kiss. When Sarah would have apologized, Abel pulled her away gently, easing forward for his own greeting. She couldn't see his face, but whatever was there made Joseph pull back, hesitating for the barest of seconds before brushing Abel's cheek with his mouth. "Always a pleasure to see you, Joseph. Seems like a good turnout." Even in her highest heels, Abel could still easily look over Sarah's head, taking in the crowd that mingled in small groups or gathered in front of photographs. There was an especially large group towards the back of the gallery, and the buzzing and murmuring seemed more fierce than that in other areas. Sarah had a feeling about what was being shown towards the back of the gallery. "Most of the work has already sold, all of it at the initial asking price. As for your little kitten--." "Sarah to you, Joseph." There was a note of warning in Abel's voice, and Sarah tried to pretend that she wasn't interested at all in the conversation taking place literally over her head. "I'd hate to end up regretting introducing you." Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah watched Joseph's face harden, his eyes cool until they were like hard, polished stones. His hand clenched into a fist, held for a moment before slowly releasing. When he spoke again, his face was blank and his voice was empty of any teasing. "Of course. After all, we're not that cosmopolitan. If you came to see Sarah's work, it's towards the back. Be careful of the mob." Abel's hand at her back propelled Sarah forward before she could say anything to Joseph, the force letting her know that Abel wanted to put more than a little distance between them. She glanced over her shoulder, chewing on her lower lip. Joseph was still standing there, watching them, with an unreadable look on his face. "You weren't very nice, Abel," Sarah murmured, having to rise up just slightly on her toes to press her lips against his ear. The closer they got to the back of the gallery, the higher the noise level climbed. She burrowed against his side, noticing more than one stare in her direction, followed by either dropped jaws or whispered conversations behind hands. "Of course I wasn't. He knows the rules, kitten." Abel pushed his way through the throng with his shoulder, his arm curling protectively around Sarah, pulling her with him. "I made myself very clear last week. He thinks that if he pushes, I'll change my mind." "Change your mind about what?" They were almost to the front of the crowd, and it was warm enough from the press of strangers to make Sarah grateful for the dress she was wearing. Or rather, the lack of a dress. It was about as far from spinster as she could get without looking like a high-priced call girl. But the deep purple made her skin dramatically pale, and the hem that stopped teasingly at mid-thigh made her legs seem longer than they should have been. The only nod at modesty was the scoop neck that merely hinted at the swell of her breasts and the tiny cap sleeves that covered a few inches on her shoulders. "And what rules?" Abel finally pushed to the front, and Sarah stumbled a little in her heels, clinging to him for support. His hands were a contrast in smooth and calloused where they cupped her cheeks, his thumbs stroking the outside corners of her mouth. There was a seriousness to his stare that she hadn't seen before, and her throat suddenly felt dry. "You're mine, kitten. And I don't share." Sarah opened her mouth to remind him about the afternoon in Joseph's studio, and Abel tapped her lips with his thumb. "By share, I mean on a regular basis. Equal privileges, equal say. It's one thing to occasionally have another person in the bedroom. It's another to have the same person, repeatedly, to the point that it's no longer a couple but a small group." Sarah studied his face, trying to read what he wasn't saying. Behind them, the buzzing seemed to be building towards a crescendo of sorts, and her heart pounded in time with the rhythm of the murmuring. "So does this make us a couple?" Abel leaned down, pressing his lips to hers softly, the barest whisper of a kiss. "Kitten, take a look at that picture. Tell me what you think." Applying just the slightest bit of pressure, he turned her face towards Joseph's art, and she sucked in a shocked breath. At first glance, it looked like Joseph had photographed the entire afternoon, from the loosening of the first button to their post-coital sprawl. The room spun for one fast, hard second, until she took a deep breath and held it. When she let it out, she was able to focus and see that Joseph had, essentially, kept his promise. None of them were nudes. Because she'd never taken off her stockings and heels. There was that first photo, with both her and Abel still fully clothed, the faintest of flushes on her cheeks, seen even in black and white. And when Abel knelt to unzip her skirt, the look on his face as it slid down to hit the floor--Joseph had captured the hunger, the anticipation so that it burst off the glossy paper, made her weak in the knees even a week later. And the look on her face while Abel unlaced the corset--the only word she could thing to describe it was wanton. Hungry wasn't intense enough to detail what was on her face. But the picture that Abel turned her face towards, the one that was generating more buzz than any other, was the one Joseph took immediately after Abel bound her wrists. Sarah didn't find herself focusing on the fact that she was naked from the waist up, although she was sure that there were more than a few people in the gallery who did. Her attention was drawn to the almost identical looks on her face and Abel's. Vulnerability and power, entwined together as closely as she and Abel were, seemingly polar opposites dependent on each other. "Kitten. Sarah." His use of her name, a rarity, had her shifting her gaze back to him. For the first time since he'd rudely interrupted her thoughts, he looked uncertain of himself. "Say something." Sarah turned her head slightly to study the photograph one more time, although her decision had been made from the second she saw it. "I want you to take me home." Abel's hands tensed on her face before dropping away. He took a half step back, and would have taken another if there had been room. "Of course." "Abel." Sarah stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Taking a deep breath, she wound her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers. Wetting her lips, she pushed to her toes to whisper in his ear. "I want you to take me home. And take me to bed. Sooner, rather than later." The apartment door thudded against the wall, nearly bouncing back into them as they half stumbled, half fell into the tiny hall. Sarah had enough presence of mind to shut the door and fasten the deadbolt before letting Abel pin her against the wall, his hunger almost frightening in its intensity. When he fisted the neckline of her dress and ripped, tearing the thin fabric as easily as paper, Sarah let the wall take all her weight, shivering at the inherent threat and promise in the gesture. "That was a gift." Abel dipped his tongue into her ear, and they both trembled. "I'll buy you another one." Shrugging her shoulders, Sarah pushed off the wall enough to let the ruined garment fall to the floor, a puddle under their feet. "I don't want another one. I just want you." Bracing his hands against the wall, caging her in, Abel dropped his head to bury his head in the nape of her neck. "Oh, you have me, kitten. Don't worry about that." Raising his head, he looked down, biting his lip. "I thought I told you to warn me when you wear something like this." "You said to make sure what they couldn't see was as good as what they couldn't." She sighed when he shifted his weight to his left arm, using his right to rub up and down her side. "I didn't say to make it better." Abel ran his fingertips over the lace trim of her underwear, a half smile curving his lips even as he shook his head. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" Sarah gave a half shake of her head, her own lips tilting up in response. She wasn't, not really, but his reaction every time he undressed her was extremely gratifying. It wasn't the cut of the lingerie that made it so noteworthy--the set that she wore in Joseph's studio was much more dramatic, where as this was just a simple bra and panty set. It was the color, and the detail, that had Abel's fingers shaking just the tiniest bit as they grazed the swell of her breasts. Sarah had spent years and a more than modest amount of money trying to achieve a color other than pale. She didn't look sickly, or as if she avoided the sun, or completely lacking in color, her skin tone was just so light as to be almost alabaster. It wasn't until sometime in the past three years or so that she'd accepted the fact that she would never get darker without getting skin cancer or turning orange. And upon accepting that fact, her color palette had changed. Maybe not for her spinster clothes, as Abel called them, but for her own guilty pleasure. Her lingerie drawer ran the rainbow of jewel tones, from ruby red to emerald to amethyst. The few pieces she owned that weren't rich and saturated in color were paler than pastels, paler than watercolors, only a few shades darker than her skin tone. The set she wore now fell into that latter category, the satin a lavender so faint it nearly matched the undertones of her veins. The lace embroidery was a darker purple, but just barely, and still shades lighter than the dress that lay in tatters at their feet. The bra lifted her breasts, the swell of them pale and creamy against the shock of color. The matching underwear sat low on her hips, cut high on her thighs, dark purple lace holding the scraps of material together. "If I thought you would actually consider it, I would seriously offer to pay you to walk around in your underwear all day." Abel stepped back, tilting his head to one side as he studied her. Sarah's hands fluttered nervously in front of her, instinctively trying to cover herself before letting them drop back to press against the wall. "Although it would probably be more of a distraction than an inspiration." "Should I take that as a compliment?" "Well, it's definitely not an insult. Neither is the fact that I just paid an exorbitant amount of money for that picture in Joseph's show." Pulling Sarah away from the wall, Abel swiftly knelt, grasping her thighs and standing, the movement having the desired effect of laying Sarah across his shoulder. "I should have him arrested for highway robbery." "Feeling a little caveman like?" Sarah was torn between giggling and struggling, and shrieked when he gave her a little bounce on his shoulder. The rapid beat of her heart had something to do with fear, but more to do with anticipation. This was a different side of Abel, more playful, less overwhelming. She could actually still think, even with his hands on her. "If it's good enough for Geico." Abel gave her one last bounce on his shoulder before flipping her off his shoulder onto the bed. She bounced once before he pinned her to the mattress, taking her mouth with his. She let herself sink into the kiss for a moment, felt the heat spread through her body. And then wiggled her hand between them, running her fingers over his ribs. "Jesus!" When Abel would have moved away, Sarah locked her legs around him, both hands now free to tickle. It took less than a minute to have him shaking with laughter, and then Sarah used his sudden limpness to roll him over to his back. Straddling him, she tapped her fingers on his chest, waiting for him to catch his breath. His hair spread over her duvet, a contrast to the bright lemon color. After a moment, he let out a long sigh. "Remind me to never get in a tickle war with you. And I found where you put all your money." "Lingerie?" "Surprisingly not, kitten. I think your bed is even more fantastic than your underwear, and that's saying something." "It is a nice bed, isn't it?" "I don't think we should ever leave it. I have a laptop, I can work from here. All you need is a maid to actually do things like laundry and cook and run errands." Abel ran his hands up Sarah's torso, skimming her breasts before cupping her face. One thumb brushed absently at her lower lip while the other grazed her cheekbone. "I'll pay for her. Or him. Although I think I'd prefer an older, grandmother type if you're going to stay in bed." Sarah chuckled, leaning down to rub her nose against his. "We'd grow mold." "Take this in the spirit it's meant, there's no one else I'd rather grow mold with." Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she laid her cheek against his. "That's so romantic, Abel. It's like poetry." "If you want poetry, I could probably drag some out of a dusty memory. As for romance...." Abel trailed off, rolling her suddenly to her back. Sarah's breath caught at the look of seriousness in his eyes. "Romance I can probably pull off." When his lips met hers, there was a hesitancy that had never been there before. Not even in their first kiss. The first kiss had been fire and heat and mind-numbing. But this...Sarah felt her muscles tense for a brief minute before relaxing completely. There was gentleness here, and uncertainty, and she felt her heart tremble on the edge of something. Twining her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, the kiss deepening by degrees. It was like easing into a warm bath, the heat never too much, but just enough to make you limp and relaxed. Their tongues traveled back and forth, slow, lazy, the only sounds in the room contented sighs. When Abel raised his head, it seemed to take all of Sarah's strength to open her eyes. "You're so beautiful." The words were a whisper across her skin, and she felt her cheeks flush at the wonder in his voice. "Even now, I don't think you have any idea how beautiful you are. Every part of you." The Table by the Window Ch. 03 Abel pushed to his knees, pulling his shirt over his head. Sarah lifted a hand, running her fingertips over the very top of the tattoo that rode over his hip. "Did it hurt?" "Everything that matters hurts, in one way or another. If it doesn't hurt, you can let go of it easily." Abel eased out of his pants, the belt making a dull thud on the carpet as it slid off the bed. "I'm trying to figure out just how you're going to hurt me." Abel pulled her to a sitting position, her hand limp in his. It took a few tries to unhook her bra, between the shaking in his fingers and the languidness of her body. When he eased her back down to the bed, she grabbed one of his hands, brought it to her lips. "I won't hurt you. I don't think I could." "Which is why you can. You have no idea of your own worth." Tugging his fingers free, he ran them under the lace edge of her panties, her hips raising up as he slid them down, tossing them to the floor. "I think you're the only woman I've ever met who has the power to bring me to my knees." "You probably shouldn't tell me that. I may use it against you." Sarah tried for light, teasing, even as her heart thudded in her chest. When he eased her thighs apart, traced his fingers lightly over the wetness he found there, she arched her hips up, asking wordlessly for more. They both sighed when he slid two fingers deep inside her, twisting them slightly in a way that made her catch her breath. Her next words were strangled and hoarse. "That's dangerous information." Abel shook his head, sliding his fingers out, running them up to gently squeeze her clit. Her moan was loud in the quiet of the room. He shifted forward, pushing just the head of his cock into her, felt the hard clench of her inner muscles. "It's only dangerous if you give it to the wrong person." He thrust forward sharply, Sarah's hips arching up at the sudden fullness. Abel dropped his weight to his forearms, his face inches from hers. "You're not the wrong person." Sarah swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "Abel--." "Shh." He took her mouth in another slow, drugging kiss, held it until the last bit of tension drained out of her body. "Just shh." Dipping his head lower, he ran his tongue over the curve of her breast, licking down to suck a nipple into his mouth. Even as he sucked hard, her back arching in response, he rolled his hips, keeping the same depth of penetration, the edge of his pelvis grinding against her clit. Sarah drew in a harsh breath, her lungs burning, one hand twisting in the duvet. "Abel--." Abel shifted suddenly, capturing her mouth again. She could feel him struggle to keep the kiss soft, even while he rolled his hips again. This time they both moaned, the sound muffled by the not quite gentle kiss. When she would have raised her hips, he pressed her more firmly into the mattress, the additional pressure on her clit making her whimper. The contrast left her head spinning, and she lifted both hands to fist them in his hair. The slick slide of his tongue curling over hers, the smooth roll of his hips, the almost painful pressure on her pelvis...the layers of sensation were rich and heady, like aged brandy. Abel lifted his head again, even as Sarah fought to keep his mouth fused to hers. "Mine." Abel paused in mid-roll, fighting for control. Sarah slid her legs around his, felt him sink the smallest fraction of an inch deeper. There was an edge of pain now, and she bit her lip to keep from panting at how good it felt. When she squeezed her muscles around his cock, they both moaned again, hers trailing off into a whimper. "Mine." Sarah nodded her head slightly, her heart hammering. Abel shifted his hips again, and suddenly she was on the edge of orgasm, where just one more movement would send her over. Abel stopped, his breathing as ragged as hers. "Say it, Sarah. Say it. You're mine." "Yes." Sarah yanked his mouth back to hers, and Abel moved that tiny bit she needed. The orgasm poured through her, left her ears ringing, had her hands sliding weakly to the mattress. She felt the spasms wrack his body, and then the weight of him as he eased down on her. He laid his head between her breasts, and she managed to lift one hand enough to run her fingers through his hair. "How's that for romance?" Abel's voice was weak, but the question drew a laugh from both of them. "If you want poetry, you're out of luck. My brain's fried for a little bit." "You remind me of Dorothy Parker." Sarah's fingers twirled lazily in his hair, and she squirmed a little when he nipped at his torso with her teeth. "A quote, I meant. Not her, personally." "I was going to worry about that for a moment." Abel ran his fingers over her ribs, but lightly, a whisper of a movement. "What quote, kitten? And it better not be the one about being under the host." " 'His voice was as intimate as the rustle of silk sheets'. " Sarah paused her fingers when he lifted his head, the expression on his face unreadable. "What? I know some things." "You'll get no argument from me about that. I was just thinking if I've ever had a better compliment." "You've gotten reviewed by the New York Times." "My books, not me. So I think you did just give me the best compliment of my life." Abel scooted up to brush his mouth across hers. "Mine, kitten. Mine." "Yes." The next day Sarah looked up in surprise when the heavy bag hit the scarred table. "Hey. You said you wouldn't be here until...." She let the sentence trail off as she studied the man across from her. "Who are you?" "That's not very nice, kitten." The man reached a hand across the table to brush her fingertips, but she drew her hand back, letting it rest in her lap. "Not very nice at all." "Who are you?" "Abel." "No, you're not." He looked like Abel, the same hair, same eyes, same build, and same cocky attitude. He even dressed like him, in what she called his tortured artist clothes. Anyone else would see him, and think he was Abel. But she knew it wasn't him. "Now, that's not very nice, kitten." A look flitted through the man's eyes, and for the briefest of seconds, Sarah was afraid. She was relatively sure he wouldn't hurt her, not in such a public place, but that look made her doubt. "Not very nice at all." "I thought I told you to get out of town. Again." Sarah turned her head at the sound of Abel's voice, as sure that the man standing to her left was Abel as she was that the man in front of her wasn't. "We had an agreement." "Had. Not any longer. I don't need your financial assistance, so I'm not bound by your rules." The man smiled, and it was like seeing what Abel's reflection in a funhouse mirror would be--twisted and sinister and dark. "I think I'll be here for a bit." "Abel. Who is this?" Sarah kept her seat, but reached out a hand for him. When he took it, she was surprised at the dampness of his palm. "Yes, Abel. Tell your little kitten who I am." The man chuckled, clearly amused by something. For a long moment, Sarah thought he wouldn't. Then Abel drew in a deep breath, let it shudder it out. "Sarah, meet Cain. He's my brother."