Jace and Clary. Cut from the final draft of
City of Lost Souls.
Jace set what he was holding down on the windowsill and
reached out to her. She came to lean against him, and his hand slid up under
her t-shirt and rested caressingly, possessively, on the small of her back. He
bent to kiss her, gently at first, but the gentleness went quickly and soon she
was pressed up against the glass of the window, his hands at the hem of her
shirt—his shirt—
“Jace.” She moved a little bit away. “I’m pretty sure
people down there in the street can see us.”
“We could . . .” He gestured toward the bed. “Move . . .
over there.”
She grinned. “You said that like it took you a while to
come up with the idea.”
When he spoke, his voice was muffled against her neck.
“What can I say, you make my thought processes slow down. Now I know what it’s like
to be a normal person.”
“How . . . is it?” The things he was doing with his hands
under the t-shirt were distracting.
“Terrible. I’m already way behind on my quota of witty
comments for the day.”
