Read Online Metal Angel by Nancy Springer - Free Book Online

dropping the garment to her pussywillow-gray carpet, standing in her living room and looking around at black tables and white chairs, at pink calla lily lamps in front of beveled-glass mirrors. “Deco,” he remarked to show that he kept track of human transience, “very Art Deco.” Hearing his own voice he knew at once that he should have kept silent. The words had slopped, and his torso felt watery and warm. What she had given him, that drink, whatever it was, that margarita, it had made itself a oneness with the ebb and flow of his blood, it had gone straight to his body. The mirrored walls were sea deep, the lamps pink phosphorescent kelp swaying in the room’s dim private currents, in the sex-scented wash of the world. Drunk , Volos thought, so this is drunk . He did not dislike it.
    Brett had taken off some of her clothes, and suddenly he was seeing her, really seeing her with the attention he usually reserved for himself. Pale, moon-like curves above satin and lace—her breasts. Yes, he wanted to touch them.… Why had she not taken off her shoes? Was she not going to do this thing with him after all? Surely … yes. Volos understood that the absurd heeled shoes worn by modern women were designed to increase their sexual appeal. He had heard this, but now for the first time he comprehended. To his bones he comprehended. His whole body saw how her tiptoe stance made her breasts tilt toward him, her back arch, her hips swing as she stepped nearer. Moreover, the shoes were of functional use, giving her the height she needed as she kissed him.
    She is kissing me —
    Lips, she was moving her lips against his lips, and sweet demons of hell, he had seen this thing done how many times yet never known how lips could tickle like feathertouch and tingle like fire and how the effect was not limited to mouth; he felt it lifting his hands to the curve of her back, felt it quicken the tempo of his breathing, felt it amplify his shoulders, his chest, his buttocks. His body, responding to hers. Lips moving in response. Tongue moving in response.
    So this is a kiss …
    It startled his heart, it filled him, it ran like electric shock straight from his mouth to his groin. He felt her nipples against him, heads up beneath thin cloth. He felt—himself, that important forbidden part of himself, hot and rebellious and ecstatic, straining against the zipper of his Levi’s. The feeling and the realization excited him so that he broke the kiss and blurted aloud, “It’s—all right!”
    â€œYou like, baby?” she murmured against his face.
    â€œMy God, yes!”
    Desire, it burned like fire, she rocked her hips against him and pleasure tore him like pain, he wanted to scream.… Hard-on, big dick, crotch rocket, trouser snake—the well-researched expressions skidded across his mind. He wanted to sing them, all of them, every word he knew for penis, cock, phallus, willy, wedding tackle, boner, dong, tool. He felt heat in his wings and knew they had to be flashing like neon in Vegas. He wanted to shout an announcement, he wanted to dance, and most of all he wanted to get out of his pants and into her.
    â€œSoon?” he whispered. “Please.”
    â€œNow be good.” She backed off; she was a tease. Smiling into his eyes, lifting both arms so that her breasts swelled above her camisole, she traced the top line of his shoulders with her fingertips. Said, “Just you wait.” Said, “We’ve got all night. Take off those Hollywood wings first.”
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œThey’ll get in the way, baby.”
    â€œI can’t! They’re part of me.” How could she look straight at him and not see? Yet she did. Most people did. There was something in humans that could not face the truth. So far only Texas knew him truly.
    â€œHey, it’s them or me, lover.” Lightly Brett tugged at his left shoulder, urging him to turn