The Devil's in the Details (19 page)

“Did you smell anything?”

“Just chocolate.” I eyed him. “Why? Should I have smelled something else?” He shrugged, and I added, “Did you see something when you came in? Someone? Maybe a little old lady in a black dress?”

“What?”

I shook my head. “Never mind.” So what if he didn’t actually see Aunt Bella? It didn’t mean it wasn’t her. She was the only demon I knew who hated chocolate. Violating a bunch of chocolate chips with her demon mojo would be right up her alley.

My hands trembled as I reached for my wet ingredients. Eggs first.

“You might need this.” His voice sounded a heartbeat before he stepped up next to me. One hard, muscular bicep kissed my shoulder and a shock wave vibrated through me.

“Thanks.” I took the bottle of vanilla extract and tried to pretend that his nearness didn’t affect me. Fat chance, but I was giving myself an A for effort.

“Oil?” He held up the bottle of Mazola.

I shook my head. “I use butter instead, but you can hand me a set of measuring spoons.” I motioned to the other end of the counter. “It looks like somebody knows his way around a kitchen,” I said when he handed me the plastic spoons.

“I manage.” He shrugged. “I used to help my mother every now and then back when I was a kid. She made the best chocolate pie, with melt-in-your-mouth meringue.”

“How high was the meringue?”

“Six inches or so.”

I let loose a whistle. “Impressive.” I added the vanilla to my mixture. “Fluffy meringue is hard to come by. I still haven’t found a good recipe, and believe you me, I’ve looked.”

“I’d share hers, but it’s long gone now. She and my dad passed away in a car accident when I was nineteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was years ago.” He retrieved several sticks of softened butter from a nearby plate and placed them next to my bowl. “What about you? Any family?”

“My mom.” I unwrapped the sticks and added them to my wet ingredients. “I never really knew my dad, but I do have three sisters.” I slid a sideways glance at him. “You?”

“I was an only child. I have a cousin, but otherwise I’m flying solo.”

Silence descended for a few moments as I added the dry ingredients to my wet mixture and turned on the mixer. Whirring filled the air as we stood there, side by side.

Oddly enough, the sexual tension radiating between us seemed to morph into something as comforting as it was stimulating. I
had an oddly domestic vision of us whipping up a mountain of pancakes the morning after.

I killed the mixer along with the crazy thought and retrieved a cake pan.

“So you like to bake brownies,” he murmured as I poured the batter into the pan.

“Actually, I like to eat brownies.” I spread the dark chocolate with a spatula. “Baking them is the evil necessity.”

“I always liked grilling, myself. Ribs, brisket, chicken—you name it, I grilled it.”

Glancing over at Cutter leaning against one end of the counter, I imagined him standing outside in the hot summer sun, wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans and a smile as he flipped hamburgers. Sweat glistened on his shoulders and muscles rippled as he worked the spatula.

I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat and fed the brownie pan into the oven. “That makes sense.”

“How so?”

I set the timer for twenty-five minutes. “You look like the outdoorsy type.”

“I did know my way around a tent.” A grim expression covered his handsome face as he took the mixing bowl and set it in the sink. “I used to go camping and hiking every weekend. I’d set up camp and cook out over an open fire. It was nice.”

“Was?”

“I was camping in Palo Duro Canyon about ten years ago when I met Azazel. One minute I was pouring a cup of coffee and the next I was facing off with an ancient demon. My parents had just died and I was in a bad way, and there he was. He told me he could take away all the pain if I would just give him my soul. I said no, and then he just took it.” Pain twisted his features. “One minute I was telling him to get lost and the next I was hunched
over. I couldn’t move. I could only feel.” His shook his head angrily. “My priorities shifted then. Azazel was all I could think about. I saw him in my sleep and every waking moment in between.”

“That’s understandable. You want revenge.”

“It’s not just about revenge.” His gaze collided with mine. “I want my soul back. That’s why I’m after Azazel. He took everything that was good from me.”

As I stared into his eyes, I saw exactly what he was talking about. Rage swam in the deep, dark depths. Torment. Loneliness. And lust. I saw that too. But nothing softer.

“Is that even possible? To reclaim your soul?”

“Some of the higher-ups in the Legion think so, but no one’s ever actually done it before.”

“So it might not work.”

He nodded. “But maybe it will.” For a second, I saw a spark in his eyes. Hope? No, there was little hope left in Cutter now. More like determination. And the lust. The lust simmered and bubbled as he looked down at me. “And if it doesn’t, at least he’ll die for what he did. What he’s done a thousand times over.”

“I hope it works,” I said softly.

His gaze widened as if I’d just confessed to being an alien. “You know you just violated about a zillion different demon laws by saying such a thing?”

“I know, but it’s the truth.”

“Demons don’t tell the truth. You know that too, right?”

“What can I say? I like breaking the rules.”

He stared at me for a long, silent moment, his face dark and unreadable. The air seemed to sizzle around us as the tension wrapped tight and refused to let go.

He wanted to kiss me.

And I wanted to kiss him.

And how.

Heat sizzled from the tips of my toes, working its way through my body until I felt as if I were suspended over an open flame. Erogenous zones tingled. My stomach fluttered. My lips twitched.

I knew even before he leaned down that he was going to kiss me. And as many times as I’d promised myself no more dead-end trysts, I licked my lips anyway. Realistically I knew there could never, ever be a future between us, but old habits died hard. I leaned up on my tiptoes. My eyes closed. I felt his breath on my lips and smelled the intoxicating scent of dark desire and wild intent.

Yum.

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever had,” he murmured.

“Terrible,” I breathed. And then his tongue swept my bottom lip.

Excitement thundered through me as I struggled to remember every reason why I needed to put a stop to this right now.
I
was the sexual demon.
I
controlled the situation. And that’s what I fully intended to do. Just take the bull by the horns and put an end to this.

Pull away. Pull.
Away.

But you know how when you’re watching one of those B-grade horror flicks and you’re screaming at the heroine
not
to go into the house? Because you know it will end in disaster? Well, just call me Jamie Lee Curtis.

I knew I needed to stop. Common sense told me to put on the brakes. Self-preservation told me to run like hell. This was so totally bad and there would be no coming back from it. No escape once I’d crossed the threshold.

But then he deepened the kiss and I opened the door and marched straight into the House of Lust. His tongue pushed inside and tangled with mine and it was like being struck by lightning. Fierce. Electric.

All rational thought faded as the hunger I’d been stashing down deep came welling up inside me like a tidal wave. Desire drenched every inch of my body.

He tasted like hot, potent male and forbidden secrets and a sweetness that drew me like the dessert tray at my favorite restaurant.

I drank him in, relishing the taste. My hands slid up his chest and my fingers caught the soft dark hair at the nape of his neck.

And surprisingly that’s all I focused on for those next few minutes. Not the very detailed fantasy I’d had last night or the fact that I wanted to strip off my clothes and add some full-on rubbing to the equation. For a succubus, it wasn’t so much about the journey as the destination. The orgasm. Every moment was a mad rush to get to the finish line because nothing—repeat,
nothing
—felt as good as an actual orgasm.

Except maybe this. Him.

The silky feel of his hair and the warm, strong column of his neck and the sweet, intoxicating scent of leather and male.

His arms closed around me. Strong hands pressed against the base of my spine, drawing me closer, until I felt every incredible inch of him flush against my body—the hard planes of his chest, the solid muscles of his thighs, the growing erection beneath his zipper.

Ugh. Who was the moron who invented zippers? What happened to the old days when drawstrings were king and access was merely a flick of the wrist away?

A flush spread from my cheeks, streaming south and stirring the naughty girl that lived and breathed inside me. The fierce burn traveled at the speed of sound, sweeping through and making my nipples throb. Wetness flooded between my legs, and I was so deliciously close to coming right then and there.

The truth registered and reality swept through me. I was about to explode and all because of a kiss. One measly
kiss
.

One thousand years and I’d never been that quick on the trigger.

Then again, I’d never met a man quite like Cutter.

Wait a second. Wait. Just. A. Friggin’.
Second.

It wasn’t
him
. I’d been on the wagon for two years now, so any member of the opposite sex this close, this hot, would press my buttons.

Any
man.

Breathe, I told myself. Just
breathe
. “I…” I jerked away. “That is, we…” I shook my head and tried to get a grip. “This is wrong. I mean, you and I…” I shook my head again. “It can’t happen.” There. I’d done it. I’d put on the brakes like the controlled succubus that I was.

Had I just used
controlled
and
succubus
in the same sentence?

Before I could dwell on the thought, Cutter’s gaze caught and held mine and the air stalled in my already deprived lungs. If he touched his lips to mine again or said even one of the seductive things running through my mind, I was a goner, my reclaimed virginity history.

I want you.

I need you.

Let’s do it.

“You’re right.” His voice echoed in my head and lust pounded my senses.

I
was
right. We should just do it. Get it over with. Right now—

“This is all wrong.” He stepped back, as if he needed the breathing room as much as I did.

“It is? I mean, yeah, it is. Seriously, I’m a demon and you’re a slayer and, well, I’m sorta, kinda attached to my head.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jess.”

Not unless he knew the truth.

But he didn’t and he wouldn’t because I wasn’t going to let him get that close. Even if he did reclaim his soul, it didn’t mean that he would stop slaying. Reclaiming his soul might make him that much more determined to annihilate all demons on behalf of the thousands of others who’d fallen victim to the dark side.

No, better to forget any foolish hope of a future with Cutter.

Rather, I was going to give him Azazel, sign up for an online dating service, find my real Mr. Right, and end my celibacy once and for all.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” I rushed on. “My cousin Monique will throw a fit if I don’t finish these brownies.” My gaze snagged on the empty bowl to my left. “For a baby shower. Tomorrow.”

“I didn’t mean
wrong
as in not happening.” He touched the curve of my cheek with his fingertip and a shiver went through me. “I meant wrong because I’ve got a new recruit on standby outside your front door.” Reluctantly his hand fell away. “I’d rather not have an audience when we do this.”

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “You mean
if
we do this.”

“I mean
when
, sugar.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d said it. “I don’t know what it is. There’s just something about you…” His green eyes glittered. “It’s hot between us and I like it. I like it a hell of a lot.”

“But doesn’t that violate about a million different rules of the Legion?”

“Probably.”

But it didn’t matter because he wanted me.

I knew anything long-term was out of the question, but I still couldn’t help entertaining the possibility of the two of us in the near future. Him. Me. Minus lots of clothing.

His lips crooked in a grin. “Besides, you’re about the sorriest excuse for a demon I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks a lot.” I scrunched up my nose. But truthfully, it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.

At that moment, his cell phone beeped and he glanced at the display. “I’ve got to go.” He returned the phone to his pocket and
his gaze caught mine. “But I’m coming back. And next time, I’m not going to stop.”

Promises, promises.

The baby shower was exactly what I expected. A room full of hormonal demons trying to one-up each other.

Worse, my three aunts were front and center, Aunt Bella brazenly nursing a glass of AB negative. As if I hadn’t already gotten the message that she was guilty.