by Multiple
I need to get him away from me before I do something stupid. Yeah, like orgasm with something not made of plastic for the first time in five hundred years.
*
Lucifer lined up his shot and gave a few practice swings with his number nine thigh bone. The shrunken skull waited for him to putt. He pulled back and –
“I demand you castrate him!”
– his shot went wild, careening off the pillars and missing his interior putting green entirely. Sighing, he turned and faced Ysabel, who, as usual, appeared annoyed.
“What has he done this time?” he asked as she flopped into a chair.
“He kissed me.”
He’d always known Remy was braver than most. “The horror. The shame. And?”
“What do you mean, and? I didn’t want him to.”
“So tell him no.”
“I did. Kind of.” He stared at her. She sighed. “Fine, I kissed him back. But I didn’t want to. He made me do it.”
Lucifer blinked. Stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it. Surely he misunderstood. “He made you do it? I’m sorry, did I suddenly enter an alternate universe? Since when does anyone make you do anything? I’ve been trying to get you to show up on time for five hundred years and you still insist on making your own hours.”
A smirk graced her face. “I do it to keep you on your toes. But, back to the kissing demon. I want to know how to stop him from using his magic or potion or whatever it was he used to make me like it.”
Now this was interesting. “You’re mad because you enjoyed it?”
“Loved it, actually,” Remy announced, striding in unannounced. It seemed his witch’s bad habits were rubbing off.
“Does no one knock anymore?” But they weren’t paying Lucifer any attention as they faced off.
“I did not like it.”
“Liar. The tongue in my mouth said otherwise.”
“I was pushing yours out.”
“Then what were the moans of pleasure?”
“I did not moan.”
“Mmm. Mmm.” Remy closed his eyes and adopted a blissful expression with puckered lips.
It occurred to Lucifer as Ysabel raised her fingers that he might want to take cover.
“I am going to turn you into an imp,” she threatened.
“Touch me in a non-erotic way and I am telling you right now, I will consider it foreplay, and not only will I kiss you again, I will strip every piece of clothing from you, lick you from head to toe, and make you scream my name, not once, not twice, but three times as you come.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she huffed, her eyes flashing with ire – and more intriguing to Lucifer, interest.
Before they could cause any damage, to his office at any rate, Lucifer snapped his fingers and froze them. He didn’t really care what they did to each other, but he’d spent several months in the wild capturing the beast he’d turned into a desk.
“Children, children,” he said tucking his hands behind his back and adopting his father figure mode. It usually made his daughter, Muriel, laugh. “Must I remind you that I tasked you with a mission. One that I might add, Ysabel, you should be most eager to complete. What I do not need, is for you to FUCK IT UP!” He let his voice increase in treble until it boomed. “I’ve been more than tolerant, but enough is enough. You will cease bringing me your petty squabbles. You will do the job I assigned. And if you don’t want his tongue in your mouth, Ysabel, then bite it off. Although, really, if you enjoyed it so much, I don’t see what the problem is. Maybe he can help you remove the stick up your ass if you let him kiss the other end. Now, if we’re done here, and since I’m boss, and I say we are, leave and don’t come back until you’re done, because if you do, I’m duct taping the pair of you together and throwing you in a dark room until you learn to get along. Or fuck. I don’t really care which, but I prefer the latter so I can watch.”
A snap of his fingers, and the glaring pair, stalked off, silent for the moment, but he’d wager it would only last until they hit the hall.
And right on cue…
“I’ve never seen a stick up a butt before. Wanna bend over and show me?” Whack. “Ow, that was totally uncalled for.”
Lucifer sighed as he slumped in his chair instead of practicing his shot. At the rate things were going, his machinations would never bear fruit and even worse, his brother would kick his ass at their centennial Golf Across the Planes tournament. Like Hell.
Chapter Seven
Leaning against a counter, Remy watched as Ysabel paced the bakery. She’d not said much since they left Lucifer’s office, not even to protest his renting of a motorcycle versus riding her ball torturer. It was totally ruining his fun. Although, he’d quite enjoyed the trip, taking the corners extra fast and sharp just so she’d hold on tighter. He’d met pythons with weaker grips.
But, he’d not counted on helmets – stupid mortal laws – and the engine noise rendering conversation impossible. A shame, because he really enjoyed verbally sparring with her. With this in mind, he kept talking, knowing she’d eventually snap out of her uncommunicative mode and give it to him. Just like I’d love to give it to her, naked.
“So when do you figure she’ll show up?” He watched her pacing figure as he queried, her outfit of before changed from a skirt to hip hugging jeans, a t-shirt that read, “Touch me and DIE!” and a jean jacket that went out of style in the eighties.
“Hmm, probably around three or four a.m. so she can arrive before her great times a million granddaughter shows up, which is exactly what I told you five minutes ago.”
“What can I say? I love the sound of your voice.” He grinned when she scowled. “But seriously though –”
“Is that even possible with you?”
“Give me a chance and I’ll show you.”
The snort she emitted probably didn’t have a heading in the handbook of ‘How To Act Like A Lady’, but he thought it cute anyway. Just all part of her witchy charm. “What do you say when this is all over, we go out on a date. Dinner, drinks, maybe some dancing.”
“Is that another euphemism for sex?”
“No. But, if you’d like to throw that into the ring, I’m going on the record as saying I’m fine with it.” He flashed a wide smile and caught her biting her lip to prevent herself from grinning back. Whether she’ll admit it or not, I’m growing on her.
“What is it with you? Why are you so determined to get between my legs? Is it because I didn’t drop my panties and beg you to take me? Is it the challenge?”
“Nah. You’re not the first to play hard to get.” He wiggled his brows when she choked. “Although, you have lasted longer than most. Honestly, I think you’re kind of cool for a witch.” Cool, intriguing, sexy, and more. She consumed all his thoughts, awake and asleep. His new mission in life involved learning everything about her – likes, dislikes. Did she sleep naked? Did she cry or cheer at the end of Old Yeller? Was she a snuggler? A folder or crinkler?
This kind of thirst for a woman, that involved things other than sex, shocked him. It made him wonder why her? Why now? The answer eluded him, but he knew one thing for sure. I want this witch. And he wanted her to want him, too.
“I’m cool? Gee, be still my racing heart. With that kind of compliment, how could I not want to spread my thighs?” She rolled her eyes. “We have nothing in common and I am not into casual sex.”
“Have you tried it? Because I can totally recommend it.” Although, he had a sneaking suspicion, once, twice, even a million times with her would never quench his lust.
“I’ll bet you can. No thank you. The single life suits me fine.”
“Says the girl who has double D batteries smuggled in by the case.” He snickered when her jaw hit the floor. “Before you ask, I have my sources. Now just what could those be for? Flashlight? Seems unlikely, given you can snap your fingers and create light. Boom box? No, those went out in the eighties. What does that leave?”
Hopping up onto a steel countertop
, Ysabel smiled at him. “Fine. I admit it. It’s for Big D. Nine inches, thick, and with a vibrating setting guaranteed to make me cream. When I’m in a hurry and in the mood, I don’t even use lube with him. I just pop him into my mouth like this.” Inserting her middle finger, she sucked it, slow and sensuous. Remy wanted to drop to his knees and drool.
“I get it nice and wet before rubbing it across here.” She cupped herself through her jeans and he desperately wanted his mouth to take the place of her hand. “I try to shove it in, but it’s so big, and I’m so tight. I have to work it, twisting and pushing.” She gyrated her hips. “Deeper and deeper.” She licked her lips. “It feels so good.”
Did the surprises with her never end? “Yes. Yes. Don’t stop now.” He could so easily picture what she orated, but he substituted his cock for the vibrator. Oh to feel her lips on him. Or her tight sheath as he pushed his way in.
“I come. The end. And the best part about Big D is he never talks back.”
“I’d let you gag me if that would help. Fuck, tie me down and just let me watch.”
She blew him a kiss. “You wish. Now if you’re done probing me about my sex life, can we get back to the job?”
Oh, he’d love to probe her, as part of her sex life. But duty called. “The job is here.”
“What?”
Having heard with senses other than his ears the arrival of something not completely mortal, Remy put a finger on his lips and motioned her to silence. Standing on opposite sides of the swinging door leading to the storefront area, they waited.
The soul didn’t open the portal to enter, but misted, appearing suddenly in the kitchen area. Despite the petite female figure, Remy pounced and…caught a handful of nothing.
Their target rematerialized several feet away, her dark eyes flashing. “I don’t think so, demon.”
“Oh, I do Emmanuelle.” Ysabel moved toward the damned one, determination on her face.
“Oh, if it isn’t the witch. Still pissy about the whole Francisco mess? Really, you should get over it. He wasn’t even that good of a fuck.”
How interesting. For the first time, hearing about Francisco’s infidelity didn’t give her a painful pang. “Nice to see you’re still as classy as ever. Now are you going to do this the easy way, or are you going to make my day and run? I’d just love an excuse to hurt you.”
“Puta! I am not going back to that prison. I don’t deserve to be punished. I did nothing wrong.”
“Nothing but sleep with everyone not married to you and accuse me of witchcraft.”
“Again. So long ago. I’ve forgotten it. You should try it too. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got much better places to be.” Emmanuelle misted.
With a curse, Ysabel grabbed a powdered sugar shaker and tossed it, scattering fine dust everywhere and coating the floating fog. Remy caught on and peered around before settling on a jar of cherry juice. He dumped it over the ball of white powder and it sank as the particles soaked up the liquid.
“Keep her busy,” Ysabel commanded as she began to chant.
Keep a sticky ball of air busy, right. How the fuck was he supposed to do that? He started grabbing everything he could find and dumping it on the creeping, discorporeal spirit. Nothing he did completely stopped her implacable trek to the outside door. Nor could he grab on and hold her, his hands went right through the rainbow colored cloud and emerged gooey.
With a tiny burst of power, Ysabel finished her spell and Emmanuelle rematerialized, covered in goop.
With a smirk of triumph, his witch stepped up to the other woman, and punched her, a great left hook, right to the kisser.
“Woo, cat fight!” he yelled.
Shooting him a disgusted look, Ysabel grabbed the reeling Emmanuelle by the hair and shoved her against the counter.
“Before I send you back to Hell, I’ve got some questions for you.”
The damned soul clamped her lips tight.
Ysabel leaned in close and said in a low whisper, “Silence won’t make things easier. You should know by now blood doesn’t make me squeamish. Tell me who helped you escape.”
Emmanuelle shook her head and Ysabel slammed her face off the counter. Remy winced at the sound of bone cracking.
“Let’s try this again. Who helped you escape?”
“A purple fairy in sparkly spandex.” The surprising answer saw them all blink, including Emmanuelle.
“Stop screwing around.” His witch slammed her captive against the counter again and wound her fist tighter in the hair. “Who helped you escape?”
“A hippopotamus on roller blades.” Emmanuelle bit her lip, her eyes wide with what Remy recognized as confusion.
“Um, Ysabel, I don’t think she can answer you.”
“Really?” his witch said shooting him a dark look. “Funny you should say that seeing as how she keeps flapping her gums every time I ask her.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think she’s the one coming up with the words. Are you?”
Emmanuelle shook her head. “But even if I knew I wouldn’t tell you, witch!”
Ysabel sighed, and kneed their captive in the stomach. As Emmanuelle bent over gasping, his witch shook her head. “I should have known better than to question her. No one ever tells the slag what’s going on.”
“Bitch,” the captured soul spat. “I can’t wait to hear your screams when Francisco catches up to you.”
“They’ll be screams of joy. Enjoy the pit. I hear Crax is most eager for your return.” Ysabel slapped the straight to Hell prison icon onto her target.
Bearing a look of horror, Emmanuelle winked out of sight, but her threatening words lingered.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Remy said, puffing up his chest. “So you don’t need to be worried about this Francisco fellow hurting you.” For some reason, the thought of someone hurting his little cougar didn’t sit well. What he liked even less was knowing this other male had, if Emmanuelle could be believed, touched his witch. Not that it matters because once I get my hands on Ysabel, she won’t even remember his name. Yes, he was that good, or so his ego assumed. He didn’t often stop to ask.
“I’m not worried about him. A puny man in life, he’s an even more pathetic excuse for one in death.”
“Exactly what did he do to you? That broad seemed to be implying the two of you were involved.”
“None of your business. We’re done here. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get home.”
“Going to get naked and play with Big D?”
She smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I’d rather participate.”
“In your dreams, demon.”
“Oh you are, my witch, and might I add you’re very naked and flexible.”
“I hate you.”
“And yet I bet you’ll think of me when you’re playing with yourself.” He knew he thought of her when he showered earlier that day. Thought of her as he stroked himself and came – twice.
“Oh, I’ll be thinking of you alright,” she said. “Thinking of the ways I’m going to kill you. My favorite so far is staking you down in the Pit’s desert, stripping you naked –”
“Oooh, I’m liking this so far.”
“Slathering you in honey.”
“Yes, baby. Please tell me the next part involves a tongue.”
“It does – hundreds of them as I call forth the fire lizards and present you as lunch.”
He couldn’t help it, despite her threats and promises of death, he laughed. And so would his mother because his witch’s idea of torture resembled the courtship between his mom and step dad. I knew she liked me!
*
Arriving home an hour later, her clothing dry this time – if she ignored her panties – she tried to ditch her demon helper at the portal. Like a tick, he stuck to her side, following her home.
“I don’t need you to guard me,” she grumbled for the fifth time as they navigated the corridors of the palace.
“There are
still three souls unaccounted for along with their mysterious benefactor.”
“Only an idiot would try and accost me almost under Lucifer’s nose.”
“Or someone desperate.”
She didn’t bother replying. Since he didn’t seem inclined to budge, she let him tag along, but as they walked she couldn’t help thinking about him, how he wasn’t what she expected.
Despite his sexual innuendos and his one stolen kiss, he’d not pushed her or tried to take anything extra by force. And really, he wouldn’t have to force her very hard, considering every time she relived the kiss, her whole body wanted to melt into a puddle. Just looking at him when he smiled at her so intimately proved a battle as she fought not to throw herself at him, tear off his clothes and do wicked, evil things.
It made no sense. Here he was, a prime example of a player, a male who used women for sex, and yet, despite this, she wanted him. Wanted him like she’d never wanted Francisco.
Maybe I’ve finally lost my mind.
Or, she’d finally healed enough to consider letting someone in her bed, on strict terms of course. Eyes open, she could use him for sex, that body-to-body contact she hated to admit she missed. But nothing else. No love. No relationship, just hot, sweaty –
“Home sweet home, my little cougar.”
And so it was. During her musings, when she’d not paid any attention – a good way to get killed – they’d arrived at her newly repaired door.
Whirling, she forced herself to look him in the eye and say, “Thank you. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Don’t you mean later today?” The lazy smile he tossed her did strange things to her insides, and when his eyes darkened, an intensity filling them as he continued to stare, the tingling left her belly and travelled lower.
Did she lean toward him in invitation, or did he plan it all along? Did it matter when the result was him sweeping her into his arms and crushing her mouth with his?
This was one time where reality outstripped fantasy. She’d not exaggerated her recollection, she realized as the inferno only he could cause swept through, leaving her aching and needing more.
