by Michele Hauf
There was someone inside her second-floor apartment. He’d seen two men enter earlier when the streetlights had flickered on. That had been two hours ago. He recalled she’d said she had a job this weekend. Must be why they were in there.
The thought made him uncomfortable. He was watching her place, while she was likely inside having sex with a man. Voyeur, much?
Hell, wasn’t like he didn’t do it all the time when dream walking.
“I wonder if she’s kissing him. Oh, hell, Max, get it together!”
Tuning the radio up a few notches didn’t chase away the guilt over that kiss. It seemed impossible to get his head around the idea of such a gorgeous woman never being kissed.
“She’s just a familiar,” he muttered tersely. “Don’t forget it. There’s nothing you want from her beyond a demon summons.”
But he wasn’t prepared to leave her unprotected. Not until he’d gotten what he wanted from her.
And what did he want? Sex. He was the man who would pay her to have sex with him to serve his own selfish desire.
She could never imagine how frustrating having sex with her would be. He’d bring her to climax, over and over, while the tension built in his body and he got right to the brink, only to hover there—then drop.
Yeah, that was the third blow he’d been served by the demon shadow—inability to climax. He may have opened up to Aby with the story of how he’d gotten the shadow, but no way was he going to reveal that devastating bane to her.
Over the centuries he’d tried to climax with many women. If there was a trick to setting him off, he’d yet to find it. The women had either apologized for his inability to get off or they didn’t say a thing, content in their own pleasure.
The humiliation should have stopped him long ago. Hell, he had once considered the monastery. But just because a man avoided sex didn’t put it out of his mind. In fact, it probably made him think of it all the more.
Dream walking served as a faux climax. If he didn’t have that, he would have gone mad long ago.
It was a bane a familiar could never relate to, or understand.
As a rule, Max usually didn’t get involved with paranormals. He preferred his women human. Uncomplicated and unaware. So he’d put up with the remarks about being unable to get off. The closeness of skin on skin was almost enough to appease his ache.
Almost didn’t cut it.
He’d once approached an über-sensual faery with hopes she might break the curse. Hours later, however, she’d flown from his bed, defeated.
Someone had once told him the sacrifices he made should be worth it to know he was able to save thousands from demonic attack.
Yeah? Maybe so.
Max twisted the silver ring on his thumb. “You were always right, Rebecca.” The fleur-de-lis design, worn through the centuries, still glinted brightly.
Knowing a trip down memory lane would shove him into a melancholy, Max swiped a hand over his face. He beat a fist on the steering wheel and raised the volume on the radio.
Another hour passed, and a man sauntered out from Aby’s building, barefoot and buttoning up his shirt. He sat on the top step and dug out a cigarette from his shirt pocket.
Compelled for no other reason than he wanted to make sure Aby was all right, Max stepped out and crossed the street. He drew his gaze up the front of the condo to the second floor. The window was dark; no interior light glimmered within.
The man on the step acknowledged Max’s approach with a nod. “Hey, man. Kinda late for a walk, eh?”
The cigarette smelled like cloves, a favorite with vampires. But he didn’t seem like a longtooth. The man wore a rumpled black shirt and loose jeans. His blond hair stuck up on one side and his gaunt cheeks were flushed. He looked obviously pleased with himself, in a daze, as if stoned.
Max remembered the name tattooed on Aby’s wrist. “You must be Jeremy Stokes.” Listed under I trust.
She had Max’s moniker on her wrist, too, though he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. My enemy. It was the truth, and yet, it didn’t feel right. How could someone so petite and gorgeous have enemies?
So you’ve forgotten the dead familiars in your wake?
The man focused enough to reply.
“That would be me. How’d you know?”
“Aby mentioned you.”
“Cool.” Jeremy patted the cement stoop. “Sit a spell, dude. She’s busy right now. Are you one of Aby’s clients? Haven’t met you before.”
“I’m a new client. She didn’t mention me?”
He sat on the step and refused the offered cigarette. The smoke made him want to gag. He didn’t do nicotine. Hell, it couldn’t kill him if he had a six-pack-a-day habit.
“Nah, but we don’t talk much.” Jeremy offered a hand to shake.
He was neither vampire nor demonic, Max decided. Vampires reeked of blood, and humans possessed by demons appeared normal but their veins tended to bulge and there was always the blue glint mirrored in their eyes if you looked at them from the right angle. Jeremy possessed none of these, nor did Max smell brimstone.
“She told me you’re her assistant,” Max said, wanting to know more. Yet, did he really want to go there? “Is the witch summoning the demon right now?”
“Yep, he’s up there. Won’t be long. I do my part,” Jeremy said, “then I get the hell out of there before the big bads come through, you know? ’Cept tonight I forgot my shoes. Now I gotta wait around until after the fireworks.”
“I thought you were the fireworks?”
A self-satisfied smirk narrowed the man’s eyes. “You know it, man.” He took a deep drag then flicked the glowing cigarette into the street. “It’s an exhausting job. There aren’t many guys who can do what I do.”
Max studied the red embers as they slowly burned out. “Wouldn’t think making love to a beautiful woman for hours on end would be so trying.”
“There is a certain amount of stamina required. Because, dude, it’s all about the girl, you know? Her satisfaction. I gotta hold back my climax or risk exhausting myself before her. Then we’d be at it all night. We’ve got it down to an art form, though. One, two hours tops. Tonight, though, it was short thanks to my discovering the A spot.”
The A spot? Max really didn’t want to know. “You were up there less than an hour.”
“You keeping watch on the place?”
“Maybe.”
Jeremy nodded and gave him the satisfied grin again. “Forty-five minutes. That’s my best time. We’ve got the moves down pat so I can bring her to satiation like that.” He snapped his fingers. “I am the master.”
“All right then.”
“Like to see you try to get a woman off so quickly and reduce her to purring slush. Just isn’t possible.”
It was, if the woman was human and required only an orgasm or two. The familiar’s sexual threshold was not at all like that of the average mortal woman.
Jeremy touched the gold cross at his neck. “God, I love the woman.”
“Like romance love?”
“Nah. Aby is the sweetest, most adorable woman on this planet. I love her like a friend, not as a girlfriend. That would be weird. I mean, how could you separate the job from the relationship part? I’m not into nonhumans anyway. Besides, Severo is keen on me, and I want to keep it that way. I know how he’d feel if I tried to move in on his woman.”
“I thought Severo was Aby’s friend?”
“Yeah, well, that’s what they like to tell people.” Jeremy reached into his shirt pocket and dug out a white disk and handed it to Max. “Here, you might want to suck on one of these when you go up.”
Almost ready to take it, Max retracted at the last second. “The Host? Where’d you get that?”
“Stole it from the Catholic church down the street. Dude, it’s not wise to go anywhere near a familiar without some protection, know what I mean? I have all my clothes warded. Even had my dick warded.”
“Seriously?”
“
You ever see a demon? They’re not pretty. And I like my head exactly where it is, on my neck. Same goes with the other head, know what I mean? So, yeah, I ward everything. That tattoo hurt like hell, let me tell you.”
So there were a few wonders Max had yet to discover in this tired, old world.
“So many things can go wrong with a demon summoning,” Jeremy said absently. He dug out another grit. “Dude’s gotta be careful, you know?”
“Yeah.”
Max wished he’d known Jeremy two hundred and fifty years ago. He’d have taken his advice about the tattoo. Now it was too late. Max couldn’t ward his body, because that would lock the shadow in permanently.
The door opened behind them and a nondescript man in a trench coat shuffled past Jeremy down the steps. He carried a titanium case, secured with four padlocks. Great for keeping demons contained.
Max looked aside. He wasn’t sure who would recognize him, and keeping his cover was always paramount.
“Thanks, Stokes,” the witch muttered, and quickly made his way down the sidewalk.
“Cool, man. See you next time.” Out the side of his mouth he said, “Grim’s not much of a talker, which is fine with me. Witches creep me out.”
“That was Ian Grim?”
“Uh-huh.”
Max’s fingers clenched. The witch was already too far to reach with the whip. Max had no reason to take his life; he just liked to imagine.
“I’ll see if Aby will see you, man.”
Five minutes later Jeremy reappeared on the front step and reported she wasn’t in the condo. He tugged on his shoes.
“She’s probably in meow mode right now. She usually shifts after a job. Could be out scampering around. You should come back later.”
Aby rubbed her whiskers against the rear tire on Max’s car. It wasn’t warm, so it must have been parked here a while. Resisting the urge to pee on it, she scampered down the sidewalk.
Looking both ways, she crossed the street and scooted past Max, who sat on the front step, and into the cat door. When the big door didn’t open immediately, she looked back and meowed. The man took that as the invitation she’d intended and walked inside.
“You must have snuck out the back,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind,” he continued as he followed her four-legged journey up the stairs. “I know it’s late. I didn’t realize you were working. But you did want to get to know me better. If you want me to leave, I will.”
She entered her home through another cat door, which left Max outside the locked door.
Shifting immediately, Aby yawned. She should have taken time following the bridging for a nap, but the urge for a quick run to stretch the odd kinks that always formed in her muscles after a job had called.
Now she could fall asleep merely by looking at the sheets, so she avoided the bed and retrieved her fuzzy white bathrobe from the bathroom. Shifting didn’t maintain clothing, so she was always naked when she shifted back.
Come to think of it, she was usually naked before the shift, too.
She opened the front door. “Ten minutes,” she said as Max entered. “Then this kitty needs some rest.”
“I could come back in the morning.”
“You’ve obviously been waiting for some time.”
“Just watching.”
“Get a good show?”
“Not like that. I’m sorry, this feels awkward.”
“You’re telling me.” She tucked the robe tighter and sighed. “Come and sit. I can’t refuse a handsome man a few minutes. Especially one who is such a good kisser.” She glanced over her shoulder. “So did you talk to Jeremy?”
“He’s quite the character.” He sat on the couch and Aby sat in the middle this time, real close. “The dude smokes.”
“Yep.”
“I’m surprised you’d let a man who smokes make love to you.”
“It’s a habit he can’t kick. Mortals, eh?”
“So he’s never kissed you?”
“Like I said last night, you were my first. So what was with you anyway? You escaped faster than Jeremy does after a job. It’s like kissing me freaked you out.”
“It did.”
Aby bristled. That was not what she wanted to hear.
“I mean, you come off as very…”
“Very what?”
“Sensual and attractive and confident about yourself and your body.”
“I am.”
“And yet, you hadn’t kissed a man. Do you know how many ways that freaked me out?”
“Are you afraid of me, Max? One familiar does you wrong, and you intend to hold it against all of us? You promised you wouldn’t harm me, that I could trust you.”
He chuckled and turned to face her. Anticipation sparkled giddily in her stomach. Max moved closer, so their faces were but a breath away. He smelled like cheap hotel soap and a little like Jeremy’s clove cigarettes.
She closed her eyes and waited.
And waited.
Aby popped open one eye. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He lifted her wrist to display the tattoo. “Everything’s wrong.”
“This means nothing, Max.”
“It’s your guide through the world. You should respect it.”
“So you do regret kissing me?”
“No. And I could kiss you again. But I want it to be right, you know? I’ve never been under so much pressure before.”
“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have—”
And then he drew her into an embrace, silencing her lips with his own.
Aby took the delicious moment into her soul. He kissed with his lips closed and with just the right pressure. It tingled at her mouth and down her neck and to her breasts. A sigh echoed in her body.
What a wonder, to kiss a man. To make contact, flesh to flesh, face to face. The act was intimate. Far more intimate than sex, where two bodies joined in a frenzy of sweat and exertion. This was quiet, delicious.
His thumb stroked her jaw. Aby murmured against his mouth, and he touched her lower lip with his tongue.
She pushed away from the kiss, regretting it even as she did so. Her heart beat frantically. “I’m not sure about tongues.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t know. It just seems so strange, you putting your tongue in my mouth.”
Hell, Jeremy put his tongue all over her body, and inside it to bring her to climax. But again, this was personal.
“Maybe it’s time for you to get some sleep.”
“You think I’m a little girl,” she said.
“No, I don’t want to step over any boundaries you’ve set. You’re a hard woman to figure, Aby.”
She knew what he meant. It was because her profession involved having sex—a lot of sex—to bring into this realm the creatures he sought to destroy.
“You’re so innocent,” he said. “I never imagined.”
“Is there anything wrong with innocence? It doesn’t make me ignorant of things.”
“You’re certainly not ignorant.”
“Let’s try once more,” she urged softly. This time she caressed his face with both palms. “I want to learn your kiss, Max. Slowly.”
“Aby,” he whispered. An ache tainted the utterance. “Aby.”
She came to him and their mouths joined. Max’s throaty groan sounded in her being. The sound of his pleasure.
It thrilled her to know she could do this to a man.
She let her fingers roam through his hair, slide behind the curve of his ear. There, at the edge of his jaw, stubble roughened his flesh. She liked the feel of it, found it to be masculine. His lips, however, were firm but soft. He lingered at the mouth, as if branding her with his heat, and only when she thought surely she’d die of pleasure, did he part her lips slightly so his breath tangled with hers.
“Aby,” he whispered upon her lips. “You kiss well for someone so new to it.”
When she opened her eyes to meet his, the intensity there dazzled he
r. He looked at nothing else, focused so solely on her, she could see herself in his eyes. Surrender imminent, she snuggled closer to him. His strong hands eased down her back. The terry robe was too thick, and she wanted his hands upon her flesh.
Daring to dash out her tongue, she traced the firm curve of his upper lip. The smell of him, so clean, challenged her to find some part of him not so clean, more mysterious. He opened his mouth and allowed her to touch the soft, wet inside at her own pace.
His fingers traced up her neck and through her hair, gripping the short strands, pressing a little. He wanted more.
She needed more.
When her tongue touched his, he slid it over hers. The texture thrilled her and she let him inside her mouth. There he tickled and traced her tongue.
Why she’d ever ignored kissing was beyond her. Too personal? Hell, yes. But just right with Max. He wasn’t too rough. He followed her lead. And he tasted like power and strength and comfort. She loved every bit of his mouth, his tongue, his sexy white teeth grazing her lips.
“You like this, Aby?”
“Better than anything—”
Max’s entire body stiffened. He clenched a hand near his hip where he kept the whip.
“What is it?” She followed his gaze, twisting her head to look over her shoulder.
A dark shadow glided before the patio door.
“Smells like a demon to me.”
Chapter 9
F ingers pressed against the glass patio door, Aby sucked in her lower lip. The Highwayman wielded the long leather whip against the demon as if it were merely an extension of his arm.
The demon, a thin, gangly thing with prehistoric fangs, hadn’t a chance against Max’s prowess. It charged and slashed, and tossed Max against the high wood fence. Max merely shook it off, and then sliced off the demon’s head.
Before meeting Max, Aby had never witnessed a demon being slain. She was only there for their birth into this realm, though she never paid much attention to that, either. Soon as the demon had moved through her body, she shifted and made a mad dash under the bed. Demons weren’t keen on cats, and she wasn’t about to take chances.
Watching the demon fall disturbed her. Could it have been one she’d bridged here? Ian Grim wouldn’t unleash his demons willy-nilly like this.
