Gentlemen Prefer Succubi

by Jill Myles

  That stopped me cold. “What?” I jerked away. “What did you say?”

  He gave me a dazed look, rubbing my behind like some sort of horny masseuse. “Your eyes. They’re so beautiful. Did you get contacts?”

  I darted for the bathroom mirror, and one look nearly sent me into shock. “Oh no,” I moaned, putting a hand to my face. I hoped it was my face. They were my features, but somehow different. My cheekbones were defined, my lips as full as if they’d been shot full of collagen, and my hair rippled down my shoulders in a glorious red mass that framed my glowing blue eyes.

  Blue, not brown, like they’d been ever since I was born.

  And glowing the way I remembered Noah’s had.

  Oh, boy.

  From behind, Bobby grabbed my hips and ground his hips against my own. “Miss Brighton?”

  I nearly doubled over from the unnatural wave of pleasure. Either this kid was talented, or there was something seriously wrong with me.

  “Uh … hmm?” I was having difficulty forming coherent thoughts with his erection pressing against my backside. I wanted nothing more than to shuck my sweatpants, fling him down on the floor, and make sweet monkey love to him.

  Something was definitely wrong with me.

  “Did you want me to leave?” His voice was husky, his hands gripping my hips in the most heavenly way. He knew very well I didn’t want him to leave.

  “Yes,” I managed to squeak out, surprising myself.

  “What?” Bobby pulled away from me, and I could see his sexual tension turn to confusion.

  Without his body pressed against mine the haze of desire cleared a little, and I turned on the faucet and began to splash water on my face. “Leave, Bobby. Please leave.”

  “But … but … can I come see you later?”

  I forced myself to shake my head no. “Maybe some other time.” Poor kid. He was probably confused as hell.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  “Oh. I guess … let me know if you need anything.”

  I didn’t have to be a mind reader to read horny longing and hurt feelings shooting off him like sparks. The door shut a few moments later, and I found myself alone.

  What on earth was wrong with me? I never approached men, and I sure wouldn’t have attacked a nineteen-year-old doorman. I was twenty-seven, for crying out loud, and I didn’t like them young. Yet when I’d seen him standing there, licking his lips, I’d wanted nothing more than to maul him, and I had.

  Flashes of my conversation with Noah floated through my mind.

  “You won’t notice anything at first, but you’ll see some changes start to happen, and I don’t want you to be alarmed,” he had said, looking as serious as can be, handing me his business card. At the time I had blown him off, thinking him arrogant and crazy as hell.

  Not anymore.

  I raced for my purse and tore out my wallet. Sure enough, there was his business card. It was simple, with just the name “Noah Gideon” on it and a cell phone number. Oh, and his little “angelic alphabet” design was in the top right corner. I’d give the man some credit—when he came up with a story, he really went all out.

  Unless … it wasn’t a story after all.

  I dialed the number with trembling fingers, and put my ear to the receiver. Three rings, then voicemail.

  Drat. I wasn’t about to leave a message. What would I say? Hi, my boobs grew overnight and my eyes are blue; call me?

  I hung up and sat down next to the phone, deciding to wait it out. He had to pick up at some point. I flipped on the TV. I wasn’t tired in the least, and too agitated to sleep anyhow. So I called. All night. And watched TV in between calls.

  Okay, so I watched porn. I couldn’t help myself. In fact, I stayed up all night watching porn. There was something about the flesh licking and uninhibited responses that I found riveting. Between movies, I kept trying Noah’s line.

  Shortly after sunrise I finally got an answer. The phone rang twice, then “Yes?”

  No “hi” or “hello” for this guy.

  “Noah, it’s me. Jackie.”

  “Jackie?” His voice was questioning.

  Annoyance shot through me. Was he such a ladies’ man that he couldn’t remember who the hell I was? “Yeah, Jackie. Dumpster girl, remember?”

  “Ah, Jackie.” His voice was a soft caress, sending a distress signal straight to my groin.

  “I was hoping you weren’t going to call.” He sounded disappointed, which only made me even more annoyed.

  “You and me both. Listen, I have a real problem—”

  “Does it involve having blue eyes?”

  Stunned, I was silent for a few moments, then nodded.

  “Hello? Are you still there?”

  Duh. He couldn’t see me nod. “Yeah, I’m still here. My eyes are blue, yeah. And something else is wrong with me—well, a lot of other things. What is going on?” My voice squeaked with alarm.

  “It’s probably best if we meet up again. Say, six-thirty at St. Anthony’s cathedral? That’s a half hour from now. Do you know where that is?”

  I blinked in surprise. A cathedral at the crack of dawn on a Wednesday? “Are they even open this early?”

  “The doors of the church are always open.” He sounded amused at my naïveté.

  “Uh, okay. Why so early?”

  “I’m unavailable during evening hours.” Before I could say anything about that weird comment, he continued. “I need a few minutes to round up a friend. And be calm. Everything will be fine.”

  Easy for you to say. I sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you there. I’ll be the one with the clothes that don’t fit.” Dry humping the pews.

  “Sounds like when we met the other day.” He chuckled, sending twin bolts of desire and rage through me.

  I wanted to hang up on him, but I forced myself to end the call politely. Help was on the way, though I was terrified of what he was going to tell me. I hadn’t paid much attention to his earlier nonsense—something about a succubus. Now I wished I had.

  Tense and moody, I wandered into my closet to see if I had any pants that would stay around my waist and a shirt that wouldn’t outline my overly excited nipples.

  I hoped Noah had a good explanation for what was going on, because so far? this sucked.

  CHAPTER SIX

  He took his damn sweet time getting to the cathedral. I’d been checking my watch every thirty seconds since the clock struck seven, and still no sign of Noah or his friend. When seven-thirty crawled around, I decided that Noah had been yanking my chain. This was just another joke in the long line of misfortunes that had been my life lately.

  Of course, just as I stood up from the pew, Noah walked through the double doors, sending my hormones through the roof. At the sight of his broad shoulders, my insides quivered and I felt a flush sweep over my body and centralize between my thighs.

  Then I noticed what appeared to be a supermodel following close behind him, and distaste flared as well. How dare that jerk make me wait because he was on a date? Self-consciously, I smoothed my hair and hoped my Notre Dame sweatshirt didn’t have any stains on it.

  Noah looked as delicious as ever. His wavy dark blond hair was pushed off his face in tousled bed-head fashion, and he wore a cool gray jacket and dark gray slacks. His shirt was a dark garnet color, which I wouldn’t think would go well with a business suit, but he made it work. No tie again, and his collar gaped slightly, revealing a smooth, tanned chest.

  “Hi,” I choked out, trying to control myself. The urge to dive onto him and kiss him madly was tough to resist. “Thank God you’re here.”

  The supermodel took off her sunglasses, revealing pale blue eyes. “Wow, she’s got it bad, Noah. Check out her eyes.”

  “I see them.” His gray ones stared into my own. “Are you all right, Jackie?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, unable to keep the whine out of my voice as I sized up the competition. The girl behind Noah was utterly gorgeous, tall and dusky. She must hav
e been Indian or Arabian or something along those bloodlines. Her hair was a smooth black curtain rippling down her shoulders, and she was built like a Barbie doll. Her light-colored eyes were striking, and her skin was the most delicious shade of deep olive I had ever seen. A short, tight minidress revealed impossibly long legs and a svelte figure that had likely never seen a Slim-Fast shake in its life. I was pretty sure I’d seen her before somewhere—like on the cover of Sports Illustrated.

  “Why’d you bring her?” The petulant words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

  Supermodel took one look at me and began to laugh. She nudged Noah forward. “Didn’t you explain anything? Good lord, man. Her panties must be soaked at this point, and here you show up with a date.”

  I blinked at her crude words. “I beg your pardon?”

  Noah put his hands on my shoulders, and my entire body began to tingle. God, he smelled good. I grew dazed at the thick, masculine scent; he smelled like leather and cinnamon. I leaned closer, admiring the hard angle of his jaw. If I moved in close enough, I could tuck my head under it and be enveloped in his arms, held against that broad, delicious chest.

  “Are you okay, Jackie?”

  “Not really. Something’s wrong with me, Noah.” I reached for him, dying to touch him, then pulled my hands back at the last moment. Maybe I was being too forward.

  Noah sat down on the pew, and I sat next to him so close that I was practically in his lap, and stared into his eyes.

  “Do you believe me now?” he asked.

  “About?” I said, distracted by his nearness.

  “You’ve been turned into a succubus.” His hands clasped my own.

  “Right …” My skin began to itch, and I wanted to rip the jacket off his shoulders. I was having a hard time concentrating. If he moved his finger just slightly, he’d rub against my palms. My thighs quivered at the thought. “And what exactly does a succubus do, again?”

  “It’s a long story,” Noah’s friend explained. I’d almost forgotten she was there, like a buzzing fly. “I doubt it’ll sink in until we take care of your Itch.”

  “My itch?” I echoed. How had she managed to put her finger on the exact word for what I was feeling? I was itching, all right. My whole body was pulsing, and the feeling was centralized in my pelvis. Noah’s proximity didn’t help, either. I shifted a little closer, my thigh brushing up against his.

  “The first time’s always the worst,” she said cheerfully.

  I barely heard her; my entire being was focused on that leg so close to mine. Noah had very large thighs, I noticed.

  Noah must have sensed what I was telegraphing. He picked me up off the bench and slid me into his lap, and my nerves thrilled at the contact. My mind swam from the sudden rush of blood, my senses fogged, and all nerve endings focused entirely on the small of my back where his hands rested.

  “I guess we’d better find someplace to take care of this.” I heard his voice from far away, through the roaring of blood in my ears. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts against him as he glanced around the room.

  The supermodel snorted as I buried my face in Noah’s neck and began to lick his skin. “Yeah, it must be a real chore for you, Noah. I’ll sit here in the back and wait for you two to finish, ’kay?”

  Noah stood with my legs locked around his waist. The juncture of my thighs pressed against his groin and I could feel the hardness in his pants. Thank God it wasn’t just me.

  “The confessional,” he murmured, and headed for the side where the wooden booths were set up, near the long row of unlit prayer candles.

  “The confessional?” I lifted my head to look at him. Bad idea—this close up, he looked even more perfect and delectable. There was a hint of a dimple in one cheek and I wanted to touch my tongue to it. “We’re in a church,” I said faintly. “I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.”

  He pushed the door to the confessional open and slid me against the wall of the booth. I breathed a sigh of delight when he gently bit my earlobe. “You can say a few Hail Marys after we’re done.” His eyes had flicked to bright blue and now blazed into my own.

  Warm hands slid under my sweatshirt and his mouth hovered just above mine. His hands paused when he discovered I wasn’t wearing a bra, then his mouth crushed against mine in renewed excitement. My moan of pleasure was swallowed by his mouth, and I returned the kiss with fervor. God, the man could kiss! His tongue did things to me that I didn’t think were possible.

  My hands were busy ripping off his jacket and shirt. A button popped off and he chuckled. “Slow down, Jackie. Pace yourself.”

  “I can’t,” I whimpered, sliding my hands against his chest. “Something’s wrong with me. I can’t help myself.”

  He sensed my frustration and pressed a tender kiss against my forehead. “Shhh. It’ll be all right. I’ll make it better for you. I’ll protect you.”

  It was a weird word choice for a guy I was getting busy with in a confessional, but for some reason I was comforted. I slid my hands into his hair and tangled them there, anchoring him against me.

  Noah held my face between his hands. “Are you okay with this, Jackie?” He pressed up against me again, his cock hard and hot against my thighs. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”

  Of course I was okay with it. I wanted him inside me, all over me, poured into me. My body was on fire and I saw only one way to ease it. “Please, yes, Noah.” Searching for his mouth with my own, I brushed my nipples against his chest in an unspoken invitation.

  “Good,” he said against my mouth, and I tasted cinnamon mixed with the taste of his lips. “Because I really want to touch you right now. And I think you want to touch me.” In the darkness of the booth, his eyes shone bright blue, and before I could comment on that, he grabbed my hips.

  His pelvis ground against my own again, and I slammed hard against the wall of the booth. My groan was one of pleasure, and I gave an un-Jackie-like squeal of delight when he slid me down the wall and began easing my sweatpants down my legs.

  They were off within seconds, along with my panties and shoes, leaving only my fuzzy socks. His hands kneaded my hips and he groaned into my hair. “You smell amazing.”

  “That’s just what I was thinking about you,” I said, then bit at his lip again. The man was heavenly, all hot and warm and hard all over. My fingers slid down his taut abdomen and unbuckled his pants, and within moments his hard cock was free. It was huge, too, and thick, and my brain flashed back to scenes of the night I’d forgotten. Noah leaning over me in bed, thrusting into me, his blue eyes fixed on my face. Him breathing my name over and over again in litany. Me screaming out his.

  Breathless with the memory, my hands wrapped around his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I remember this.”

  The next thing I knew, he was shoving me up against the wall again and murmuring in my ear, “Give me your leg, Jackie.”

  Obediently, I lifted one leg, and his fingers stroked my wet folds. I thought I was going to die right then and there, and it must have sounded like it from the moans I was emitting. Noah’s mouth covered my own as he shushed me, his fingers sliding against my clit and circling against it. Feathery-light at first, his motions grew bolder when my body gave an involuntary shudder in response. He circled my clit with the pad of his thumb again, hard.

  Overwhelmed with sensation, I gave a soft cry of longing, my body aching to be filled. I needed him inside me. “Noah,” I whispered against his mouth. “This is really great and all, but I’d really like you to fuck me right now. Hard. I’m itching like crazy.”

  He groaned against my mouth, grabbing my other leg in his hands and hiking me up against the wall until I was straddling him, pinned between the confessional wall and his glorious hot body. The head of his cock slid against my sex, teasing and rubbing against me for a mere breath of time. I barely had a chance to say how much I liked that when he was sliding that hard length inside of me in one shar
p thrust. My legs clenched around him, and my muscles spasmed as I had the strongest orgasm of my entire life.

  My moan of pleasure echoed through the booth, and he tried to kiss me again to silence me, but it wasn’t working. His groan matched my own in volume as I locked my ankles behind his waist and buried my head against his neck, riding out the wave of pleasure with him.

  “Oh God, Noah!”

  “Don’t say that,” he murmured against my skin, his teeth gritted. “Not here. Just hold on to me, Jackie.” With that breath, he stroked into me again. I hadn’t even had a chance to come down from the last orgasm as he hammered into my flesh, over and over again. Within moments I bit his shoulder, trying desperately to keep myself from screaming my pleasure.

  I clung to him and held on for dear life as he pounded into me with long, measured strokes, enjoying every sweaty second of it.

  Just before I slipped over the edge again, Noah groaned and shuddered, releasing inside me. As he gently rocked me on his cock and tried to control his breathing, I tried not to be disappointed that I’d only come once. But I must have given him some sort of hint—couldn’t be all the wiggling I was doing—because he slid a hand between us and reached for my clit again. “One more for the road,” he whispered against my mouth, and within a few moments, I clenched and shuddered my orgasm all over again.

  A few minutes later, reality began to sink in: our sweaty bodies, pressed against each other, inside the church confessional.

  The church confessional.

  “Oh God,” I murmured, shock coursing through me. “I’m going to Hell for this for sure.”

  Noah pressed a kiss against my sweaty brow and disentangled his body from my own, not an easy feat in the tiny booth. “God will understand. Some things just can’t wait. You were in a bad way.”

  I slid down to pick up my clothes and tried not to feel raging embarrassment. “I can’t believe what we just did. I can’t believe I was mauling you like that.”

  “Remy calls it the Itch. I’m sure she can sympathize with you.”