Demon's Plaything

by Lydia Rowan

  “I also told you to pick your battles.”

  The words zipped around her brain.

  “She said we have to pick our battles,” she said quietly. Then, more forcefully, “She said we have to pick our battles. I’ve picked, Ian.”

  Saying the words restored her resolve. Eventually, Shayla might miss him, but she believed she was doing the right thing. If she wasn’t, she’d face the consequences, something Ian had never quite figured out how to do. For now, this was her decision and she wouldn’t be swayed. She stared at Ian, who was silent for the first and only time, unyielding.

  “So you just decided, huh? ‘Fuck Ian. He’s out’?” he yelled a moment later, his increasing agitation clear.

  “I don’t have the energy to explain any better, but that you don’t understand what you did, what you almost cost me, says it all. You did this. Not me or Nana or Demon or anyone else. Just you.”

  He looked at her like she had two heads. “And you want me to swallow this, be totally cool with my sister writing me off for a measly five grand.”

  She laughed mirthlessly. Only Ian could sound insulted by an offer while simultaneously negotiating it.

  “That’s it, Ian. Forever.”

  “Fine.” He nodded, but she could see his wheels turning.

  “And don’t even think of asking Nana for more. It’s over, Ian. We’re done. Both of us. All of us. If you ever cared anything for us, you’ll accept that.”

  A few weeks ago, her heart would have broken, and she would have done anything to keep them together, to keep from saying those words. She’d almost been too late, had almost let Ian ruin her. And it hurt her soul-deep to lose the brother she’d loved so very much, but it couldn’t be any other way. He’d proven that he could only bring destruction, and she had to let him go.

  He stood silent for a moment, unbelieving as if he expected her to fold like she usually did. But as the moments passed, realization seemed to hit, and he finally said, “It’s like that, huh?”

  Defiant to the end, but what else could she expect from the brother she knew so well?

  “It is how you made it, Ian.”

  She walked to him, squeezed him tight, and then stepped away.

  “I love you, little brother. Good-bye.”

  She got in her car and drove home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Demon felt a little creepy and stalkerish, but he didn’t have any other choice. Shayla hadn’t been home earlier, and so overwhelming was his desire, need, to see her that sitting in his car to wait for her was the only answer. Now, two hours later, he was beginning to question that decision. She could be at the hospital; hell she could be anywhere, and he had no idea when she would return.

  Or if she wanted to see him.

  Their last conversation hadn’t ended well, and he knew, without a doubt, that she’d be furious about his interference with Ian. But it had to be done. It was the least he could do for the woman he loved.

  As if conjured by his thoughts, he saw her turn into her driveway, park, and walk to the house. She seemed weary, but there was a lightness in her step, in her face that he hadn’t seen since that very first day. He waited until she’d closed and locked the door, suddenly nervous. A quick glance into the rearview mirror only heightened the feeling. He still wasn’t quite used to the face that stared back at him, so he wasn’t sure how Shayla would respond. Add to it the fact that he was about to lay his heart on the line, and she might very well crush it, and well, he was a bit out of sorts.

  But there was nothing to do but try. All he could hope was that she needed him as much as he needed her.

  ••••

  Shayla had just settled on the sofa when she heard a knock at the door. She knew it wasn’t Ian, so that left one other option. Before she could blink, a smile spread across her face, and her heart soared. She practically ran to the door, only deeply ingrained habit making her check the peephole. Laughing out loud, she opened the door.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked playfully and was rewarded with a sly smile.

  “We’ve met a time or two.”

  “Wait, I recognize that voice.” She titled her head and squinted. “Is that…Demon, just Demon?”

  He laughed, walked in, and closed the door. “It’s not that dramatic of a change, Shayla.”

  “Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me. You cut your hair and shaved and your suit is an elegant, refined showcase instead of a garish freak show of subpar taste. You’re like an entirely different person.”

  “Nope, same person, different wrapping,” he said softly, and her mirth fled. “Do you like it?”

  “I do. But why the change?”

  “It was time. It’s been time for a while.”

  Suspicion rose, and she crossed her arms and asked, “And does Elah Avakian have something to do with this realization?”

  “Yes.”

  She pursed her lips. “No, Demon. I won’t be a part of that world. I’m not cut out for it.”

  “Please, just hear me out, okay?”

  She paused a beat and then nodded.

  “I’m not cut out for that world, either. Never was really. Elah more or less made that clear but not in those words exactly. So I’m just an average working Joe now.”

  “So in the past month or so, you changed from a ‘promoter’ on the fringes of the criminal underworld to an average working Joe?”

  “Yes.”

  She rolled her eyes and walked to the couch. “I need to be sitting for this.”

  He sat next to her and grabbed her hand. A thrill ran through her at the contact, and it hit her again, hard, how much she’d missed him.

  “It’s just not the same anymore, and, as you proved, I can’t stand by and watch people get hurt. Not anymore.”

  “But you did it for years.”

  “Yes, but those people knew what they were signing up for. People like you, good people who are victims of circumstance…I couldn’t have handled it. I think I’ve known that for a long time.”

  “And Elah?”

  “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”

  “No comment. Continue please,” she said.

  “He actually gave me the idea, said I was a solid, smart guy, asked me if I wanted a job”—she raised a brow—“a clean job. Almost literally.”

  She quirked a brow.

  “I’m going to be running the metal-recycling facility.”

  Her quirked brow dropped to a furrow. “But do you know anything about that?”

  “Sure I do. I’ve spent a ton of time there; the guys used it as an unofficial training gym, for years actually. It was my unofficial office. I picked up some things. And I have ideas.”

  The enthusiasm in his eyes was infectious, and she found herself laughing.

  “What? I had a lot of free time and when Elah suggested it, it seemed a natural fit.”

  “And the suit?”

  “Oh, I got his tailor’s name too.” He looked down at the black sleeves of his suit coat. “I’m gonna go broke if I get more than two of these things.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, you look amazing,” she said as she stroked his shorn locks.

  “So it’s that simple?” she asked

  “God, I hope so,” he responded.

  She pulled her hand away and looked him in the eyes.

  “I saw Ian tonight.”

  He went still, waiting for her to continue.

  “He told me what you said.”

  “And…?”

  “And…thank you. And I’m sorry for kicking you out.”

  Relief flooded his eyes, and she slid close to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her head on his chest, the boom of his heartbeat and his scent wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth.

  “You were right. Much as it pains me to say, as much as my independent woman wants to be mad at you for meddling in my family behind my back, you were right. I’ve known it for a long time, known that Ian was poison, but it w
as just so hard, you know? He wasn’t always… It didn’t used to be…” She trailed off and the soothing stroke of his hand on her back calmed her.

  “I gave him five thousand dollars and told him that this was it and that once Nana—that soon he’ll be out of my life.”

  He squeezed her tight.

  “What an asshole,” Demon said a moment later, the words rumbling through his chest.

  She pulled back and looked up at him.

  “What?”

  “I’d already given him ten.”

  They both laughed, and then she said, “I should have figured as much. But Ian isn’t the type to turn down a dollar.”

  “And did he agree?”

  “I think so, but it doesn’t matter. I’m done.”

  He grabbed her hand again, stroked a thumb across her palm.

  “I’m sorry, Shayla.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “I’m not sorry for what I did. I’m just sorry you had to lose your brother. I know that sucks.”

  His emotion shined behind his warm eyes, and she leaned in to hug him again, unashamed of her desire to bask in his strength and warmth.

  They stayed that way for a long time and then Demon stiffened and patted her back, urging her to sit up.

  “Wait here a minute. I’ll be right back,” he said as he stood and walked toward the front door.

  Shayla couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off her face as she waited, and when he returned, he was carrying a plastic animal traveler with the local animal shelter’s logo on it. She narrowed her eyes as he put the traveler on the floor, opened the door, and retrieved the occupant.

  A tiny, fluffy ball of brown fur leaped from his hand and ran directly toward her. Automatically, she reached out and grabbed the tiny kitten, stroking its soft fur.

  “You bought me a cat?”

  “I bought us a cat,” he corrected as he walked back to the couch and stood in front of her.

  Seemingly bored with Shayla, the cat scrambled out of her hands and back into the traveler, apparently content to be left alone for the moment. Both she and Demon laughed at the sight.

  A few seconds later, she looked up at him and said, “So there’s an ‘us,’ eh?”

  His green eyes flashed, and he smiled. “There is if you want there to be.”

  Shayla’s heart pounded, and she stood, needing to be eye to eye with him, or at least as eye to eye as was possible given his superior height.

  “I work a lot.”

  “I will, too. I’m a professional now.”

  “I cook, but I don’t cook and do dishes,” she said sternly.

  “I know my way around a dishwasher.”

  “I have a bad habit of sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

  He chuckled at that statement. “It’s true, but I think you’ve learned your lesson on that one. And besides, you’ll have me to protect you now.”

  She laughed, and he looked offended.

  “Don’t laugh,” he said, turning serious. “I mean it, Shayla. I will protect you. From anyone and anything, no matter what.”

  “I know you will. I knew that from the start,” she said, reaching for his hand.

  “Good. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  “I won’t. So, it looks like you’re going to shoot down every objection I can muster, correct?”

  He smiled, some of the tension leaving his face and posture. “Correct.”

  “Well, what should be our first activity as ‘us’?”

  In an instant, his gaze turned molten, and he reached out to pull her close, the insistent nudge of an erection that she was sure hadn’t been there moments ago pressing into her belly.

  “I think we should have some of that raunchy sex you’re so fond of. But this time, in a bed,” he said as he cupped her ass, one hand on each cheek, and urged her closer.

  “People do that?” she said on a breathy whisper.

  “Indeed. I think you’ll like it, but there’s no way to know for sure until we try.”

  With that, he lifted her up, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, basking in his strength, their closeness as he walked up the stairs and to her bedroom, where he deposited her on the unmade bed.

  “Uh-uh,” she said as he reached for his tie. “I’ve imagined this moment too many times. I’m doing that.”

  She scooted to the edge of the bed and ran her hands up the hard plane of his abdomen and chest before she stood. She trailed her fingers down his arms, the fabric smooth to her touch.

  “Did I tell you this is a nice suit?”

  He chuckled. “You did.”

  “It’s going to look so much better off.”

  “So why don’t you stop teasing and take it off?” he said, his voice thick with arousal.

  “As you command,” she said, her own arousal just as clear in her voice.

  Then she reached under his jacket and ran her hands up his back, feeling the bunch and pull of his strong muscles as he lifted his arms. She let her hands rest there a moment, closing her eyes and almost moaning audibly at the play of his flesh beneath her fingers, so strong, so warm, even when covered by the fine silk of his shirt.

  Demon’s lips, warm and gentle as they touched hers, made her open her eyes again, and the passion, desire she saw reflected in his eyes took her breath away. Refocused, she pushed the jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. It landed on the floor with a soft swish. The jacket out of her way, she make quick work of his tie, shivering at the sound of silk sliding against silk. Then she pulled his shirt from his pants, Demon’s breath hitching when her hands brushed against the prominent bulge.

  Anticipation raced through her, but she maintained her unhurried motions, opening the shirt one button at a time and then spreading it to reveal his broad chest. Even covered by the thin undershirt, his well-defined abs and chiseled pecs were visible, and Shayla squeezed her thighs in an attempt to relieve the now-insistent throb that pulsed at her core, that ached to be filled by him.

  Up, up, she pulled the T-shirt, both of them breathing out at the touch of skin against skin. His skin was warm, scorching really, and the pinpricks of sensation at the contact, the ridges and valleys of his muscled chest and the thin layer of hair that covered it, felt a thousand times more intense, such was her state of desire. When she reached his flat nipple, she couldn’t resist, first stroking it with her thumb and then leaning down to repeat the action with her tongue. He stiffened and grabbed her shoulders, and when she would have repeated the motion yet again, he stopped her by leaning down and taking her lips with his.

  The kiss was breath-stealing, and when she opened her mouth to breathe deep, trying to get air, he took advantage, slipping his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth, leaving no inch of it unexplored. Her knees weakened, and she squirmed again, the throb ratcheting up higher still until she wanted to beg him to fuck her. He pulled away, and she couldn’t stop the irritated sigh that escaped her.

  He chuckled as she pulled him back to her and maneuvered the T-shirt over his head and off, leaving his bare chest fully exposed to her gaze for the very first time. She was torn; she wanted to drink him in, see every inch of him, but she also wanted more, wanted to touch him, expose the rest of him.

  As always, impatience won, and she moved her hands to his belt buckle, rested her palm against his iron-hard erection, before moving down, tracing the hard muscles of his long thighs, down his sculpted calves, kneeling as she went until she reached his shoes. She removed one, then the other, and then one sock and then the other before she looked up at him, her gaze snagging on his cock before she met his eyes.

  Her breath was again taken by the emotion in his gaze. No one had ever looked at her like that, like she was the most desired, most precious, most treasured woman in the world, like she was loved. Blood rushed to her head, and she was almost high on the rush of emotion that hit her. She felt, for the very first time, like someone saw her, and instead of running, pulling
back from it, she stayed, basked in the raw feeling that passed between them, and hoped that he knew every ounce of the emotion she saw in his gaze was returned.

  Without breaking his gaze, she reached for his belt buckle, and he quirked a brow, making her giggle. The emotion of the moment had passed, but she was free again to return to her work. She opened his belt with the same deliberate slowness, though at this point, she wondered who was more tortured, and did the same with his pants, letting them fall at his feet. She could see the outline of his cock through his underwear, the thick shaft topped by his prominent crown, his heavy sac hanging underneath. Drawn by his heady, masculine scent, the need to have at least some contact, she snaked her tongue out and traced his shaft through the fabric, swiping once, twice, over the veins that threaded the column before focusing on his tip, making broad stripes over his wide head, paying special attention to his slit.

  “Shayla…”

  The word was a curse and a prayer and her control snapped. She stood, pulled her pants down and her shirt over her head, and then gently, but as quickly she could, slid his pants down. They stood face-to-face, finally able to be together without any intrusion, any worry, nothing but the two of them together.

  He stepped out of his clothes, stopping briefly to retrieve a foil packet from his pocket, and moved closer to her, leading her back until she hit the edge of her bed. They went down in a tumble, and it was as if something had been unleashed. They touched each other greedily, hands against flesh, simultaneously lingering and exploring, each trying to touch every inch of the other all at once.

  His cock, which furiously leaked precum, bumped against her, and she opened her legs and lifted her hips. He quickly sheathed himself, and they both moaned as his cock notched against her slick opening. She rocked against him, feeling more moisture pool and coat the inside of her thighs as the contact sent spirals of pleasure from her clit through her body.

  Then he stilled, and desperate for more, she looked up at him. When her gaze met his, he began his ascent, feeding his thick manhood into her inch by inch, the stretch and burn of his invasion making the pleasure that much more intense. Finally, fully seated inside her, his pelvis flush against hers, her thighs cradling his hips, he looked into her eyes, entwined his fingers with hers, and in that moment, joined as intimately as they could be, she knew that she’d found her future, knew that he’d found his.