What Happens in Vegas...After Dark (4 page)

“Yeah, and so did you, but the second I mentioned it, your eyes lit up.”

What?

Was Mr. Rings and Vows and Maybe Kids an incubus in disguise, warping her mind?

Karen had to be warped to suggest I wanted a husband. Now, kids…Since being placed in charge of the lesser succubi’s education, some latent part of me had been warming to the idea of offspring. I’d suggested to Ryan that I couldn’t get pregnant. But I could get pregnant, with the right desire and the right sperm.

Snorting over the absurdity of Karen’s suggestion, I stuffed another bite of cake into my mouth. Obviously, the caramel was of the highest quality. Even when I was feeling irritated, its succulent taste took a tight third to blood and semen.

“A trick of the light,” I assured her after I finished chewing. “I don’t do serious relationships. I definitely don’t do husbands.”

She studied my face, looking unconvinced, and then shrugged and turned to her register. “I’ll be ready to head out in ten minutes. Brian’s got plans with the guys. Want to take in a club with me?”

Going clubbing with her had been my point in coming here. But now I wasn’t in the mood for a girl’s night out with a moony mortal. I needed the kind of place where I could let my wings out and relax. The type of laid-back yet feel-good atmosphere guaranteed to be found at Darkness—the club across the street from the Liege. Unless a supernatural being deemed it otherwise, Darkness was visible only by nonhuman eyes. In other words, Karen and most every other moony mortal weren’t allowed.

I took another bite of cake, and then pushed the plate to her side of the counter.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll call it an early night.”

Concern entered her eyes. “Work catching up with you?”

Damn, she would have to break out the sympathy. It almost made me want to disregard the love-struck vibes coming off her to accept the clubbing invitation. Almost.

“Something like that. But don’t sweat it. Once I get into my stride, I’ll be fine.”

Ryan

I could handle Deitre, I reminded myself as I pulled into the garage of the two-story rental house. Our first week together had been a little taxing on my system—even with my most sexual of lovers I’d never screwed so much. But the last couple days I’d been adjusting to her strenuous expectations and those she had me expecting of myself.

I’d also come to appreciate how well she erased my negative thoughts.

Yeah, the occasional nasty shit still entered my mind, but all in al , I was feeling good.

Feeling like I could keep up with any guy from her past. Feeling overly aroused from not having seen her for almost thirty hours now.

One of the guys had come down with the flu, so I’d had to pick up an extra twelve-hour shift. I’d gotten the call while out at Jack and Carinna’s place for our bimonthly poker night and had headed straight to the firehouse. Though I’d had the nearly unstoppable urge to speed home as soon as my shift let out at ten this morning, I didn’t want to scare Deitre off by making it seem I couldn’t handle being without her.

Christ, it was scary enough for me to think that.

Of course, it wasn’t that I couldn’t handle being without her. I could. But why bother when coming home meant spending the morning making up for all the sex we’d missed out on in the last thirty hours?

Grabbing two small, brown bags of goodies I’d picked up for her while killing time after work, I got out of my Jeep and headed for the door that led from the garage to the kitchen. The door opened when I was a foot away. I expected Deitre to be standing there, waiting to jerk me inside with a blood-boiling kiss and grope. But she wasn’t in sight.

Hoping to hell she was somewhere inside, for how anxious I was to see her, I moved through the door. Aside from the dim light filtering in from the garage, the kitchen was mostly dark.

“Welcome home, bad boy.” Her sultry twang came from the direction of the living room.

My eyes adjusted to the blackness as I moved through the kitchen to find her standing a few feet from the stairs. A halo of fiery light sliced up from somewhere behind her. The halo shape mocked her demonic horns and tail while the light illuminated the tauntress’s smile curving her shiny red lips and the glimmering red leather that made up her miniscule, skintight she-devil costume.

My heart and cock throbbed in tandem as I slid my gaze along her body.

Nipple holes had been cut out of the low-riding dress’s top and thin black rope crisscrossed over her belly. The dress’s hem had to damn near skim her pussy. Red fishnet stockings dipped down to four-inch-heeled black-and-red lace-up spikes, and would keep her crotch from being completely nude. Somehow the knowledge her sex wasn’t completely bare had my dick pulsing even harder.

Feeling like I was hovering a couple inches off the floor for the magnitude of pent-up lust rocketing through my system, I went to Deitre. Dropping the goody bags, I tugged her bodacious bod against my own. She purred out a sexy little growl, and I crashed my mouth over hers like a starving man.

She tasted like heaven and hell all in one. Too damned good just like she was too damned perfect. Almost perfect. She still had that whole need to control me thing going on, letting me have the ropes just long enough to pacify me.

Tonight, that was going to change. Tonight, I showed her who the man was in this relationship.

Coming up for air, I fondled her velvety tail. “All this is for me?”

She tossed back her head, slapping the weight of her lustrous hair against the air while she moaned like she could feel my fingers’ stroke and was majorly getting off on it.

Freeing her tail, I cupped her backside. And what a delectable treat that was. Like her nipples, the leather over the curves of her butt had been cut away, and smooth, muscular ass filled my palms.

Circling her groin against my erection, she brought her head back up and smiled knowingly into my eyes. “Like it, do you? I saw it while I was visiting a friend at the Liege and thought of you.”

So I was sticking in her head during our time apart, too. I could take a small measure of comfort in that. Maybe.

Damn, but this thing we were doing felt like it was getting complicated.

If one of us could leave after the sex ended it might not seem like more than the physical was happening. But we never went further than our respective bedrooms, and even then Deitre spent the night invading my dreams.

Focusing on the present—and she did look like a present gifted straight from the gods

—I said, “Carinna, my brother’s fiancée, used to work at the Liege. I visited her plenty and I don’t recal ever seeing anything like this for sale.”

She glanced down at her nipples, stabbing erect through their holes and gleaming in the fiery halo light like they were coated with some kind of gel. “You just weren’t looking in the right places.”

My mind painted the gel as cum from some earlier masturbation exploration, and my bal s snugged tight.

Glancing at the floor had the forgotten goody bags coming into view. I picked up one at random and held it out to her. “I got you something while I was out, too.”

She took the bag, unwrapped its neck, and pushed her hand inside. Licking her lips excitedly, she pul ed out a container of lube and a silver-sparkled butt plug. Her eyes—ice-blue even now when rapturous anticipation claimed them—swept up to mine. “Can I use it on you?”

My sphincter muscles tightened with the enthusiasm in her question. Maybe I couldn’t handle Deitre, after al .

Feeling like my ego was about to shrivel up and die, I stepped back from the temptation of her barely clothed body to confess, “I should’ve told you from the start, but I’m not up to the level of the guys you’ve obviously been with in the past. Maybe a year ago, I would have been. But my life has changed since then. I need some downtime now and again.” I eyed the anal toy and winced. “And probably not a butt plug stuck in my ass during the up time.”

Smiling wide and wanton, she stroked the shaft of the plug. “So that’s not a no?”

“Not a definite no.” Her smile grew, and I realized what I’d said while my logic was clouded with her sexy stroking. “Also, not a probable yes.”

“What happened?”

With effort, I yanked my gaze from her finger play. “When?”

“A year ago. Why the changes?”

The anxious beat of my heart went from that of arousal to that of unease. I hadn’t told anyone the answer to her question. Not even the department shrink we were required to see once a year to ensure dealing with casualties on the job wasn’t affecting our mental health. For whatever reason, and despite my unease, I wanted to tel Deitre.

Guessing that lust was continuing to cloud my judgment and responsible for that want, I offered a partial response. “I did my job. Part of me knows that. Part of me is convinced that I screwed up.”

Deitre

The way this week was going I would soon be adding myself to the list of demons who loathed all mortals.

First, Karen had to go and get all moony. Now, Ryan was acting like he actually felt remorse over Jada’s death. His body was aroused to the point his thoughts were once again clear to me, and there was no doubt that it was her death he was referencing.

I was fully aware of his thoughts, but he was managing to hold back his emotions. That withdrawal made it likely that his behavior was nothing more than another attempt to keep me around by acting like he had a sensitive side. Even so, I couldn’t convince myself to lead him into the kitchen and feed him the drugged stew I’d made for dinner.

Normally, I would never rely on mortal pil s to help drain my victims. But, like his ability to keep his emotions from me, Ryan had started to resist the full effect of my feedings. I stil left him tired, just not nearly as much as he should be.

Sniffing, he glanced into the kitchen. “Something smells incredible. Did you cook?”

“Yes.” I feigned a pout. “But we’re not eating it. I tried a new recipe and it didn’t turn out.”

“No need to pout, devil girl, I’ve got a present number two.” He squatted to grab another small brown bag from the carpet.

Ignoring how much I liked his incredibly accurate endearment and, more, his desire to see me happy, I took the bag from him and unrolled the top. And, ooh, yeah, he got me happy with that gift.

My pussy tingled as I pulled out a bottle of edible caramel body sauce. “Can you read my mind, or how did you know what a sucker I am for caramel?”

“Honestly?” I nodded, and he got a sheepish look complete with a lopsided smile.

“You’re not the only one with a weakness for caramel. I bought it for you to put on your body so that I can lick it off.”

Like I’d noticed from day one, the guy was hotter than Hel . What I hadn’t noticed that day was that he was also cute in a boyish sort of way.

A boyish sort of way? What the fuck was that about?

It was the kind of thought for a moony mortal, not a she-devil who got off on screwing the life out of her lovers.

Soon, I would screw the life out of Ryan. Tonight, I was just going to forget that cute concept ever entered my head and let him stroke my tail some more.

My sex spasmed with the remembered feel of his callused fingers caressing my tail.

Clearly, he believed it part of the costume as I’d intended. But it was part of me that I’d kept secreted before this and my biggest erogenous zone by far.

Or maybe not where he was concerned.

One second I was standing there preparing to seduce him. The next second he had me on my back on the couch, and was pouring the caramel sauce between my spread thighs.

The diamond-shaped openings at the crotch of my fishnet stockings added remarkable friction against the slippery glide of the sauce. His fingers, as he bathed my otherwise naked labia with caramel, added a thrill so primal and delicious, it had my pussy burning with need and me considering that my sex might just be my new favorite erogenous zone.

Flattening my palms against his chest through his T-shirt, I prepared to flip him onto his back, strip off his clothes, and cover his rod with sauce. He grabbed my wrists and met my eyes with command in his own. “I’m in control tonight, Deitre.”

Someone really should’ve told him the number-one way to piss off a succubus was to order her around sexually. That someone should’ve probably been me. But like that first day, shudders of expectation pulsed through my groin with the idea of letting him take the lead.

I couldn’t hand it off without a bit of a fight, though. Or, at least, a threat. “Fine. Have the lead. But do it right, or I swear you’ll pay.”

The arrogance he’d lost when admitting that he didn’t think he was up to pleasing me as well and as often as my past lovers returned as a cocky grin. “I’ll do you right, devil girl.

I’ll do you so right you can’t stop from screaming my name.”

There was cocky and then there was annoyingly cocky. Ryan was stepping awfully close to annoying terrain. Since he was cute—and I swear to Lucifer if anyone got wind I believed that I would claw out their tongue—I would let his arrogance go.

For now.

Everything about this situation was temporary. I hadn’t forgotten about getting my revenge. And I wouldn’t, no matter how hard my hips darted off the couch as he took my bent legs in his rough hands, spread them even farther apart, and slipped his tongue through one of the open diamonds at the crotch of my stockings.

Caramel sauce sluiced up into my sheath with the lash of his tongue. Cool at first, it warmed near instantly. He rocked back on his knees to pour more of the sauce over my sex and then licked that up inside my opening, as well.

Sighing out a shaky breath, I fisted my hands in his overlong black curls as tumultuous pressure shook through my dripping-wet core. My vaginal walls contracted greedily around his eager tongue. It was tempting to let my second self out to play. But I’d given him the lead and so far he was earning it. That being the case, I shared my sight with him, planting a carbon copy of his every move as I saw it into his head.