Demons Don't Always Tell The Truth (Kate Storm Series Book 3) (8 page)

11. Meltdown.

"Kate? Look at me." Ash's deep voice beckoned me to respond, but I shook my head.

I couldn't. I was clinging to what little composure I had left. Things had spiraled downward so quickly I could barely hang on.

No witch wants to be humiliated by a stupid shirt.

I wasn't handling the situation well at all. I knew that.

I'd so wanted everything to be perfect for tonight. I could have dealt with not being able to fit into my brand new shirt on my own. Probably not well. And I may have attached an itching spell to the damn shirt when I returned it, but I would have maintained some sense of decorum.

Having Ash witness my total embarrassment crumbled all my defenses.

"Go away."

Ah Spirits, how would I ever be able to seduce him after this? How would I ever be able to look at him without remembering this?

"You seem to be caught in your shirt."

I moaned. Maybe if I could get to my wand I could put Ash in a hole while I dealt with the blouse.

"Did you want me to help you take it off?"

His question would have made me mad, generally speaking I'm a capable witch, but there was genuine confusion in his voice. And I was too mortified to get angry.

"I'm stuck."

"I can see that. Would you like help getting it off?"

My eyes flew open at his husky tone. Sure enough, his amber eyes were turning molten. The muscles in his arms seemed to swell. His thumb stroked back and forth along my jaw.

What was wrong with him? Couldn't he see how tight the stupid shirt was? How it pressed into my skin creating unattractive bulges?

"It's too small." I didn't mean to yell at him. "It doesn't fit." His face was inches from mine. Screaming at him was completely unnecessary.

My pride said otherwise.

"Why buy it?" Ash frowned, puzzled.

Of course Mr. Hard Muscles didn't understand. He didn't have an ounce of excess skin anywhere.

"I didn't know it was too small until I put it on." I didn't want to spell it out. I closed my eyes again. And I definitely didn't want to see the hot lava in his eyes cool.

"Then let's take it off."

Sure. Take off the too small shirt, put on one that would fit and have a party. No problem.

I wanted to grab him by his pewter horns and . . .

The sound of material ripping caught me by surprise. I jerked, discovered I could move again and pressed my hands to his chest.

Ash let go of my neck and chin, fisted the loose material under my breasts and tore it in half.

The previous too small blouse now hung in shredded sections from my arms.

Which meant I was fully exposed. My girls tucked into a sheer purple bra that offered support, but not coverage. My un-flat belly a hair's width away from Ash's taut stomach.

I wanted the too small shirt back.

Ash gripped my chin and his mouth came down on mine. Hot. Hard. Dominant.

His tongue pressed in. Seeking. Dueling. Conquering.

He wrapped one strong hand in my ponytail and used my own hair to pull my head back, exposing my neck.

He released my mouth, kissing his way down the sensitive skin along my neck until he reached the juncture at the base of my neck and my shoulder. He bit down.

I gasped. My fingers clawing into his chest trying to find purchase as my body was swept away under his onslaught.

Ash maneuvered one hand in between our bodies, below my breasts on my belly and used his strength to press me flat onto the bed.

He shifted, following me. One heavy leg pinning both of mine, resting on his hip as he came up on his side, still holding my hair, massive chest looming over me.

The hand on my stomach began to knead and press.

I stiffened, memory returned and my embarrassment came flooding back.

"You're so soft." He whispered the words in between suckling kisses over my upper chest.

He squeezed my waist as if measuring me. He needn't have bothered. There was plenty of skin there.

I stopped digging into his chest and began pressing him back.

"Don't stop me." The words snarled out, determined and heavy with want. But underneath I could almost swear I heard a plea.

Which was crazy. This was what I wanted. What I'd planned to have happen after my guests had left. I always wanted Ash.

But I preferred him to see me after I'd taken a few more walks. Not now with my stress eating results hitting me smack dab in the face.

"You're squeezing my waist." Well, duh. Ash knew what he was doing. This demon knew what he was about.

It was ridiculous of me to point it out. Point out the overabundance of skin he held in his grip. Point out my faults.

I'd been waiting weeks to be in this position. Was I so upset I had to sabotage things? Did I honestly feel the need to flaunt the parts of me I preferred to keep hidden?

"I love touching you. Why are pushing me away?" He growled against my left breast. He caught the edge of my bra in his teeth and tugged.

Damn good question.

"I'm too big." I could have easily strangled my inner witch.

Ash abruptly lifted his head. He frowned.

"What?"

Leave it alone. Have your body crisis on your own time.

"I said I'm too big." As if that wasn't enough, I grabbed the hand at my waist and pressed it into my skin. "I'm fat." Shit. Now I was using the 'f' word. I slapped my hand against his chest. "You're not."

Wow. I'd jumped off the self-destructive cliff so fast I'd lost any hope of a safe landing. Why was I doing this? All I could do now was wait for the unforgiving splat when I hit bottom.

Ash rolled. Set his knee in between my legs and used it to make room for his hips. He lowered his body, pressing me into the mattress, lowering his chest until my hands and breasts were trapped, nearly flattened and I could feel the weight of him against my lungs.

He used his elbows to take some of his mass so I wasn't completely squashed. His nose bumped mine.

"You. Are. Not. Fat." Could he not feel me under him? "You are soft and lush. I'm big." That, I couldn't argue with. Ash was enormous. He towered over me and when I was pinned beneath him . . . I had to admit, I didn't feel big. How could I with those muscles and heated flesh overwhelming every part of my body?

But that stupid shirt . . .

He thrust his hips forward. "And I want you." Hoo, baby. No mistaking the steel pole poking me. Insisting louder than any words. Ash wanted me. Overabundance of flesh and all.

"I've put on weight." There. I admitted it. I hated it. Didn't like it, but it was the truth.

I couldn't confront everyone else's issues and not my own.

Damn it.

"Where?" Ash pressed up on one elbow. Slid his hand up underneath my trapped arm and cupped my breast. "Here?" He growled his approval. His hips rocked into me, thrusting his cock where I wanted it.

"My clothes don't fit." I expected my voice to wobble, but instead I gasped. Ash had pinched my nipple between his finger and thumb.

"Buy more." He rubbed his thumb around and around. "You look  good to me, Kate. I want you."

I opened my mouth and the doorbell rang.

Ash and I both groaned. He dropped his forehead down, lining up our faces. "I forgot about the party." He traced my lips with his tongue, nudging them open, kissing me hard. Frustration in every tense line of his body.

The doorbell rang again.

Ash snarled, pushed himself up and gave me a look that had my toes tingling.

"I'll get the door. You get dressed." He raked my body with a look that should have melted the skin right off my bones. "I don't want to hear another bad word about your body."

The door slammed behind him before I could say anything else. And did I want to? Was that honestly an argument I wanted to win?

The demon liked my body. He'd seen me in various stages of disarray. Touched most of me. Beheld my mortified tangled mess.

He didn't have any complaints. So why should I?

If it bugged me so much, I could put more effort into some sort of an exercise plan. Daily walks were not a bad thing and Al certainly approved.

Ash definitely wanted me.

He truly had been making a point of displaying his self control these past few weeks. And it was taking its toll.

He hadn't been making excuses.

Funny. I hadn't realized how much I'd been worrying about our relationship. I guess a build up of neglected hormones could do that to a witch.

I was making great strides in improving myself. Growing my business and hiring a secretary. Tracking down my scary aunt instead of ignoring the disaster lurking there. Opening myself up to new friendships and attempting to repair the damage in the other one.

Confronting issues head on . . . Clearly, I still needed some work in that area. Whether it was with others or myself.

The insecure witch inside of me - the one who'd been bullied and cursed and taunted for being half of what she was supposed to be - had a ways to go yet.

I could live with it.

Ash wanted me. All of me.

I'd showed him my warts, many times over by now. And he still wanted me.

It was definitely time to take things further between us.

I bounced off the bed, suddenly rejuvenated. My guests were arriving and I had a party to host. Maybe it wouldn't be one hundred percent perfect, but then neither was I.

I yanked the mangled too small shirt off and tossed it into the trashcan.

Good riddance.

I pulled on my red shirt, checked my hair in the mirror above my dresser, adjusted the ponytail until it was up high again and headed towards the door.

Later tonight everyone would leave, I could send Al on a sleepover with Morgan and then Ash and I would be alone.

All alone.

Just the two of us.

12. Revelation.

Désirée Norma-Sue, Phil and Ash stood in my kitchen. Al perched on Désirée's bent arm. She held a martini glass in the other hand.

Désirée was decked out in sparkly gold from head to toe. Her spaghetti strapped, low cut dress hugged each of her tiny curves. The long skirt split down one leg, displaying four inch, spiky heeled straps encasing her little feet. She'd even dusted her skin and up-do with some sort of gold glitter.

Phil stood next to her. He wore a grey linen, short sleeved button down with a silky, darker gray vest over it. The vest matched his skin. And the velvet fedora on his head.

Everyone had dressed up for my party.

I'd probably given away my excitement over hosting an actual dinner party with my constant texting and reminders, but I couldn't help feel thrilled my friends made the effort to dress up.

They were letting me know they cared.

It might seem silly, but to a witch who'd never had a lot of friends, or hosted a party for those friends, it meant a lot.

Ash half turned towards me. His amber eyes warmed as he took in my red shirt and the low neckline.

His hand settled on the small of my back when I stopped next to him and he leaned down to whisper in my ear, "nice shirt."

My cheeks turned a shade lighter than my shirt. Not at his words, but the husky, approving tone in which he said them.

I still planned to take Al for a long walk tomorrow, but it was nice to know I looked good to this demon. Very nice.

"Ya look good, Doll." Al nodded his little head at me while he glared at Ash's arm.

"Thanks, Al."

"Sugar, I love that top." Désirée Norma-Sue handed her martini glass to Phil then smoothed back the fur along Al's neck. "I wish I could wear it. I never look good in that style. I feel sort of lost."

She would be lost in my top. It would swallow her up. I doubted I could even get one leg into her dress.

"You look fabulous, Désirée."

"She always looks good." Phil beamed. Somehow his cheerful smile wasn't at odds with his deep, rumbling voice.

Désirée Norma-Sue batted her lashes at Phil. "Sugar Bear, you say the sweetest things."

I sincerely hoped it worked out between them. Désirée had asked me not to use my magic in regards to their relationship. She wanted to enjoy the excitement and the anticipation of the unknown.

I couldn't blame her.

It was hard though. She was my friend and I didn't want to see her hurt, but so far I had restrained myself and was respecting her wishes.

Phil was a great gargoyle and despite the size difference between them and the rather short period of time in which they'd been involved, it seemed to be working out extremely well.

I was happy for them and slightly miffed that I hadn't arranged the match. I am a professional matchmaker. It's what I do.

However, sometimes love has a will of its own.

"Why don't we go outside? I've got some appetizers set up on the deck?"

I wasn't one hundred percent sure, but it appeared as if the floor under Phil had started to slope downward. Plus we were all shoulder to shoulder in my tiny kitchen.

And I wanted everyone to see how cute it looked outside.

I'd found disposable pink trays with brown polka dots, brown plates with pink stripes and brown and pink checkered napkins. They complimented my porch furniture.

I knew Morgan would think it was all supremely girl, but I was supremely proud.

"I'll have another drink first." Désirée stopped petting Al, plucked her glass out of Phil's hand and downed the rest of her martini.

I wasn't the only one concerned. Al cocked his ears and Phil frowned.

Ash patted my back. "I'll make you another. Kate?"

I nodded absently at him. Looking closer at Désirée Norma-Sue, I realized she was tense. The hand clutching her glass a little white around the knuckles. The arm holding Al stiff and rigid.

It made me think her body glitter wasn't just a party accessory, but a cover up for her own lack of skin sparkle.

Damn it.

Things were obviously getting worse.

Phil picked up Désirée's free hand and rubbed it. I watched him, but other than the slight frown on his face, he didn't strike me as overly concerned.

She hadn't told him about her problems. Which meant I couldn't bring it up in front of everyone.

I promised myself I'd corner her inside, after I got everyone outside, and make her spill.

Ash finished mixing our cocktails just as the sun set.

"Morgan and Drake should be here soon."

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Al stated as Désirée set him down. He lifted his lip as he neared Ash's boot and I snatched him up, juggling my glass and the Chihuahua.

"I'll go with you, Al." I knew Morgan could let herself in. He'd have to holler at her through the door though. He hated to do that.

"I thought you were gonna wear your new top." He licked me just under the chin.

"There were some problems with that top. I decided to go with this one." I nuzzled his head

"Ya look good, Doll." He'd already said that once. I looked down at him. He set one tiny paw on my cheek. "Real good."

He blinked his watery eyes at me. My stomach twisted with guilt. Here I was planning my big evening with Ash and figuring out how to get rid of Al for the evening and Al was . . . Damn it, Al was Al.

Impossibly in love with me.

I sighed.

The doorbell interrupted my train of thought.

I reached for the door with the hand holding my martini glass. Paused. Looked at Al in my other arm.

"Come on in."

The door burst open. I'm surprised she even waited. It may have had something to do with Drake's arms - one wrapped around her waist and the other hand covering her mouth.

Morgan was dressed head to toe in bright flaming red. Her sunset hair practically levitated around her flawless face. Eyes narrowed into piercing slits of emerald green.

Morgan was killing mad.

Not a good thing for a vampire.

"Um." My wide eyes met Drake's. He shook his head. And tightened his grip.

Shit.

"What's up, Morgan?" Of course, the hit man was calm.

She mumbled something I was glad I couldn't hear and kicked backwards, nailing Drake in his shins.

Ouch
. Her blood-red boots had five inch spikes for heels.

Drake winced. "Morgan, calm down. I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation." He jostled her from side to side. "Let's hear what he has to say first."

First? What did she want to do after?

One quick glance at her eyes told me I didn't want to know. She had blood, possible dismemberment and definite mayhem on her agenda.

I cuddled Al closer. I was fairly certain Drake didn't mean him, but frankly, Morgan was scaring me.

"Who . . .?" I never got to finish my question. Morgan kicked again while yanking on Drake's arms. He was forced to let go.

I felt a sudden slap of cold wind and heard her shout from the kitchen. "Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

Another slap of wind and I was standing by myself holding Al.

I slammed the door closed and dashed down the hall. I hit Drake's back the moment I entered the kitchen.

Damn it. I knew my kitchen wouldn't hold all of us.

Who the hell was Morgan yelling at?

"Did you think I wouldn't dig until I knew the truth? Did you think you could just show up out of the blue and no one would be suspicious?"

I couldn't see at all over Drake's shoulder and there wasn't enough room in the doorway to edge around him.

Was Morgan yelling at Phil or Ash? And what had her so lethally furious?

"Were you ever planning to tell her?" Who? Désirée or me? Could Phil possibly be behind Désirée's nerves?

"I know exactly who you are, Asmodeus. Or do you prefer Ashmedai?"

Asmodeus? Ashmedai?

Ash.

Drake shifted and I realized he'd been blocking me on purpose. Once he moved I was able to see the confrontation taking place.

Phil stood on the far side of my kitchen in front of Désirée, between her and the door to my porch, protecting her with his body.

In the middle of the tiny space Ash and Morgan faced off. From her flame hair to her scarlet boots, Morgan appeared to be awash in blood. In direct contrast, all in black, Ash loomed over her like the dark angel of death. Small bursts of flames rode along his shoulders.

The force of Morgan's anger enveloped the room, pushing outward, against our bodies, the very walls.

"Morgan?"

I kept my eyes on her. I'd seen his body jerked as if hit by a searing lash when she'd yelled his name. His name. Not Ash, or at least not the full name. His name was Asmodeus. Or Ashmedai.

I had a very bad feeling.

"What is going on?" I watched Morgan closely. It was better than looking at Ash.

"Ash has been hiding something." Morgan drilled her finger into the middle of Ash's chest.

He had a longer name than Ash. I got that part already. Morgan wouldn't be so enraged over a name.

"You know he's a demon lord." Yes I did. This was not news. I kind of liked that fact. My own personal demon lord. Sexy.

"Did he ever tell you which one?"

My bad feeling started to get worse.

Aunt Tabs had informed me there were seven demon lords. One for each sin.

Wiccans and Christians weren't always on the same page with their beliefs, plus there was that whole burning and drowning witches episode a few decades ago as witchcraft was supposed to be evil. Those type of things tend to linger in a witch's memory.

As a result, I wasn't up to date on the bible. The exact nature of each deadly sin to be specific.

Frankly, I hadn't thought it mattered. What did his sin have to do with me?

"Ash is the demon lord Asmodeus. Lord of Lust." Morgan turned to face me. "He's been manipulating you all along, Kate."