"No. I want to understand what's going on."
"Sorry, but that's not on the agenda. I've got to pack."
"Why? You don't have to run again, not with me here."
"Damn it all to Hell, I don't have time for you to go all white knight on me!" I tried to pull my arm away, but he held on like a pit bull. "Don't you get it? They know where I am. I've got to leave!"
Paul masterfully displayed selective hearing as he ignored what I said. We might as well have been married. "He doesn't want you sleeping around, you said. He wants you to hurt them, you said, make them scream." Paul's eyes roamed my face, searching for meaning. "What does he want you to do to your Johns, Jesse?"
"Paul—"
"Tell me. Who is he?"
Meg's warning hummed in my mind, with Daun's flagging it. "I can't!"
Voice soft, he said, "You can trust me."
A sob burst from my lips. With my free hand I covered my mouth, turning my head away from him. "It's not about trust. It's about protection."
"I'll protect you. I swear, as God is my witness, I'll protect you."
"God doesn't watch humans," I whispered. "And you can't protect me. As long as I don't say anything, at least I can protect you."
An eternity of silence, then I felt Paul's hand cup my cheek, brush away my tears. I inhaled his musky scent, taking him deep inside me. Bless me, I didn't want to leave him.
No, stop thinking about how you feel. Survival first. Leave.
But I want to stay with him. I… oh help me, I care about him.
The best thing you could do for Paul, the little voice whispered, is get the fuck out. Now. Or do you want to bring Hell to his doorstep the way you did to poor Caitlin?
"Jesse. Please look at me."
I did, tears streaming down my face.
"You came here for a fresh start, not for a temporary resting stop. You don't have to run again."
"But they know where I am. They'll find me again."
"So it wasn't Jemma who did that to you."
Biting my lip, I dropped my gaze from his face. "It was. Ask Aurora or Candy. They'll tell you. They were there."
His hand touched my chin, tilted it up until I met his eyes. "I promise they won't hurt you again, whoever they are."
"You can't make that promise. You don't know them, what He can do."
"I don't care. I won't let them hurt you again."
I came so close to telling him the truth—about me, about the Announcement, about why Hell was willing to move Heaven and Earth to return me to the fold. But then my life would be forfeit… and Paul's would too. As my heart thudded in my chest and my mouth dried up, I realized that I cared about Paul far, far more than was healthy. I had to leave.
Maybe Paul felt my arm tense, understood that I was ready to bolt from the room. Eyes pleading, he whispered, "Please trust me, Jesse."
A demon trust a human? Unspeakably funny. The only creatures that lied even more than demons were humans—and that was because demons didn't lie to themselves.
But I wasn't a demon anymore.
If I trusted him… what would happen? I bit my lip as I briefly imagined what it would be like to let myself be human all the way and fall in love. To allow myself to be that vulnerable.
To be with Paul.
My voice breaking, I said, "I want to trust you. You have no idea how much I want to believe that you can keep me safe."
"I can. I swear it."
"Please don't swear. I… I don't like thinking about you swearing something and then breaking your word."
"Then believe in me. Believe that I'll keep my word when I say that I'll protect you."
"I do believe you. You're the only thing I want to believe in." Sniffling, I said, "Great. Now I sound like a greeting card."
He smiled, lighting his eyes until they sparkled. "You sound like you. Please don't run again. Let me protect you."
"If you really want to do something for me, hold me."
He embraced me, pressing me against his chest. I felt his heart pumping, inhaled his scent until it made me giddy.
I pressed my lips against the rough stubble of his cheek, tasting the salty tang of his skin. "Make me believe that it's all going to be okay."
His hands cupped my face, turning my head to his. Meeting my gaze, he said, "I swear to you, Jesse, it's going to be okay." Then he kissed me.
Hands touching my face, my hair, my shoulders; my hands touching the sculpted planes of his cheeks, his strong jaw, his thick neck. His tongue rolling with mine; his lips sealed against mine. We were hands and tongues and lips, our bodies moving in sync as we explored each other. Kissing me, Paul stole my breath. I chased his tongue with mine, trying to steal it back.
I didn't need to breathe; I sucked the air from his mouth, sucked him into my body. His life sustained mine with an electricity that made every nerve ending sizzle. His kisses set my skin aflame.
We tumbled onto the bed, limbs locked around each other. Paul pinned my hands above my head as he straddled me. He pulled back, drinking my passion with his eyes as his gaze roamed my face.
On my chest, tucked beneath my shirt, the peridot stone slept.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I've never been surer of anything in my life."
He kissed me again, his lips on my mouth, now on my chin, my jaw, moving up. His tongue flicked against the tender skin behind my ear, and I let out an ummmm as my lower body clenched in response. The sound changed abruptly into a delighted gasp as he sucked my earlobe. I wanted to grab his hair and kiss him hard, suck him into me, but his hands held mine, trapped them like birds.
"Let me touch you."
"Shhhh," he whispered in my ear. "Let me make you feel good."
No way—I was the Seducer. I opened my mouth to tell him, command him, to let me go, but his tongue jammed between my teeth, his kiss silencing my words.
Okay, so maybe I should just lie back and enjoy…
His kisses slid down my neck, deftly avoiding my scarf. Over the collar of my shirt, he lapped at my flesh, tracing the scoop-cut of the fabric. Between my legs, my sex released a splash of wetness, followed by tiny waves of heat. My breathing quickened. Beneath his body, my hips began to move, dancing to music I couldn't hear.
Moving my hands together, he pinned both my wrists with his left hand. With his right, he brushed his fingers over my cheek, then my shoulder. He slid down, licking my right nipple as his free hand caressed my left breast.
I moaned like a sexed-up poltergeist. Oh bless me, my blood was on fire!
He released my hands, but all I could do was arch beneath his attention. My brain told my body to start showing him some love, but my body told my brain to shut the fuck up.
Pulling away from my breasts, Paul tugged at the bottom of my shirt, yanking it up. I sat up, helping him remove the garment from my body, easing it over my bruised neck. He stripped off his T-shirt and tossed it to the floor. I gazed at his broad chest, marveling over the curly hair that covered him.
"Bless me, you're so gorgeous." I reached over, ran my fingers through those curls, loving how they tickled my palms.
"You should talk."
He wrapped his muscular arms around me, crushing me to his chest. I inhaled, breathing in his musky scent. As his hands fumbled behind my back, I kissed his skin sloppily, leaving my saliva on his body. Nuzzling down, I sucked his nipple, relishing the soft moan that escaped his mouth. I grazed that tender spot with my teeth, and he gasped. I loved the sound.
Fueled by my teasing, he tore away my bra and peeled it off my body. For a moment, he stared at my breasts as if memorizing them, then he set to them with his hands and lips and tongue.
And I made very loud, appreciative noises.
My fingers curled in his hair as he suckled. The gentle waves of heat between my legs spread up my torso and down my legs, a steady simmer gradually increasing to something hotter, wilder. I wanted to run my nails down his back, but I didn't know how he'd re
act. So I bit my lip and held onto his hair, trying to control the tension building in me.
He moved down, his tongue tickling the outline of my ribcage, then traveling over the concave form of my belly. By the top of my jeans, he paused.
"Want to take these off?"
"Only if you do the same."
Sharing a smile, we quickly unsnapped, unzipped, and undressed. I stared at the shape of his erection, stretching the front of his boxer briefs. I wanted to touch it, kiss it, run my tongue around its thickness and lick his balls.
He rolled with me on the bed, our bodies on fire. I wound up on top, and as I straddled him I stroked his shaft, wanting desperately to remove his cotton underwear and really feel him in my hands. His breath ragged, he reached up and touched me between my legs, his fingers finding my clitoris on the first stroke. He pressed, and my jaw dropped as the simmer in my blood immediately kicked up to a roiling boil. He pressed again, and I threw my head back and cried out, bucking my hips as his fingers worked magic.
"I've got to taste you."
He rolled with me again, this time with me landing on my back, staring up into his face. He moved away, out of my line of sight; then again, I was seeing stars, thanks to his amazing touches. I felt my panties being removed, and then…
Oh…
The world stopped as my sex erupted with his kiss. The orgasm took me completely, my flesh singing, my body trembling in its wake. Paul moved away for a moment, but I didn't see anything but the insides of my eyelids. Feeling aftershocks of pleasure ripple through me, I finally understood why an orgasm was called a small death; at that moment, Lillith herself could have slaughtered me, and I would have died a happy ex-demon.
Paul returned, tearing open a small package of foil. At first, I thought he brought me more chocolate, which would have been the perfect ending. Then I realized it was a condom.
Grinning, I snatched the contraceptive from his hand. "Please. Let me."
He did. Before I slid the condom on, I took his penis in my mouth. If I was going to put on the rain gear, at least I could make sure it was wet outside. I sucked him, Paul's groans encouraging me to take him deeper.
"Stop, I'm going to come."
I licked him from tip to root. "Please do."
"No. I want to be inside you."
Removing the condom from the package, I unrolled it over his swollen rod. Once it was in place, I mounted him. He throbbed inside me, filling me, sending new waves of pleasure through my body. As I rode him he fondled my breasts, cupping them as they bobbed in his hands. His breathing quickened and I moved faster, urging him with every thrust to come on, sweetie, come on.
He opened his mouth, said, "Jes—"
I stopped the word with a kiss.
As if that were a signal, his back arched, lifting me up as he climaxed. He bucked, shuddering beneath me until he collapsed on the bed.
Gently moving off of him, I snuggled against his body. He wrapped his arms around me, a grin spreading over his face. Our sweat mingled, making small talk for us.
Eventually he said, "I've got to get rid of this thing. Be right back." He kissed my forehead, then got up, heading to the bathroom. My body immediately missed his warmth. I dove under the comforter, aching to be in Paul's arms again. My fingers touched the peridot hanging from its silver chain. Still cool.
If I wasn't safe with Paul, I'd never be safe.
He came back to me, free of the used condom. Burying himself in the heavy blanket, he held me close and stroked my hair.
"Paul?"
"Hmmm?"
"I believe you."
"Good." He kissed me softly, sleepily. "I swear it's going to be okay."
That I thought was a lie. But I wanted to believe in that lie, so I said nothing and held him until I fell asleep.
Chapter 21
New York City
Lips pressed against my mouth, then a soft, deep voice called out, "Jesse."
"Mmmm." I opened one eye and saw Paul smiling at me. Ah, yum. That sight alone was worth being nudged from my delicious dream of bathing in chocolate, with Paul washing my back. "Heya, sweetie." Actually, what came out was more like "Hhhaswuh."
His lips brushed mine once again in the lightest of kisses. "Got to get to work. Couldn't leave without saying good-bye."
See, right there, that proved he was a keeper. I wanted to tell him that, but all that came out was, " 'Kay." I really wasn't a morning person. Or at least my mouth wasn't.
"Go back to sleep, hon. I'll call you later."
I closed my eye. " 'Kay."
"Jes?"
"Mmmm."
"Don't go to work today."
My eyes popped open, and I stared at his face, taking in the thin, serious line of his mouth. "Why?"
That line softened into a warm smile—but his eyes were hard as diamonds. "You should go to a doctor, get that bruise checked. Just to make sure there's no real damage. And you should rest." His fingers grazed my neck, trailing over my scarf, and I barely controlled a wince.
"I'm fine," I said. "It's just sore."
"Humor me?"
"Really, I'm okay. Just sleepy. What time is it, anyway?"
"Eight-thirty."
"Gah. How do you get up this early and still function?"
"Usually I don't go to sleep after two in the morning. So you'll take tonight off?"
"I really can't. I need the money."
He frowned, his sea-green eyes clouding over. "Fine. What's your schedule?"
"Late shift. Nine till closing at three."
"Okay. Maybe I'll stop by tonight, see how you're doing." He kissed me again, with a hint of tongue. "And we've got to set a time for Sunday. Dinner and a movie."
"And chocolate," I murmured, closing my eyes.
"For you? Anything."
I was half asleep when he called out, "Hey, Jesse, there was a note under your door. It's your receipt. Looks like you're checking out today."
My eyes popped open again. "Oh. Oh, crap!"
By the door, Paul said, "What's wrong?"
"I forgot to find an apartment! Crap, crap, crap!"
Paul's chuckle brought a flood of warmth in my belly. Ooh, waiter, I'd like some of that, please. "Well, I know what you'll be doing this morning. See that—you really should take tonight off, go apartment hunting."
"Crap!"
Paul walked back to the bed, sat by my side. "You know what? It's a sign. No dancing for you today. Read the classifieds in the paper, get settled first."
Feeling his fingers twining in my hair, my body both relaxed and coiled, wanting his hands to roam the planes of my naked body. I reached my arms up and stretched, arching my back. The comforter rolled down, exposing my breasts.
Paul's hand traced a path down my cheek, dancing over my neck, until the backs of his fingers brushed my left tit. A small shiver rippled through me. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger against my nipple.
Swallowing thickly, I said, "Stay."
"Can't." He leaned down, darted his tongue against my nipple, and I moaned as heat pulsed between my legs. "Got to go to work."
One last suckle, then he left my breast and kissed my mouth. I grabbed his hair, feeling it curl in my fingers as my tongue rolled with his. Then he gently pulled away, untangling my hands from his hair.
"Why don't you extend your stay in the hotel for another day, take the pressure off?"
"Maybe. I'll figure something out."
"I have no doubt." His eyes, dark with passion and something else I couldn't place, locked onto mine. "I really, really enjoyed last night."
"This morning," I corrected with a smile. "Me too."
"You've still got my number?"
"Yes."
"Call me. Let me know what's happening with an apartment. And maybe we'll get some dinner tonight."
"I have to work, remember?"
He winked. "Only if you get an apartment first, remember? Call me."
"I will."
We kissed once m
ore, then he was gone.
Going back to sleep was out of the question; I was way too anxious. How long did it take to find an apartment? Screw that; how did I go about finding one?
Fuck. Human beings really should come with instruction manuals.
I jumped out of bed and padded into the bathroom to take care of the necessities: toilet, teeth, and total body relaxation in the shower until my skin fell off. Wrinkly clean, I did the hair and cosmetics thing: Wisps of hair curled around my face with the rest pulled back into a sloppy bun; lots of eye makeup that made my orbs appear huge and appealing; pale gloss on my lips.
Examining the results in the mirror, I approved of the Helpless Waif look. Heck, if I were an apartment superintendent, I'd rent me an apartment based on my high-cuteness factor alone.
Next: Clothing. I slid on a matching satin bra-and-panties set. Fuck-me red. Helpless Waif Goes Trolling. After rummaging through my various garments, I selected a light blue denim shirt and faded jeans, shoving the rest into Caitlin's large, black suitcase. Then I dressed, leaving the top two buttons of the denim shirt open and the tails untucked. The tight jeans showed off my legs without advertising what lay between them. Socks, covered with tan suede boots.
Look out, New York: Jezebel's stepping out. Checking out. Whatever.
Last: Packing. A two-minute scan revealed that I already had all of my belongings in the suitcase, my Victoria's Secret shopping bag, and my purse. I considered snatching the Bible in the desk drawer to peruse it as bathroom reading, but I decided against it. If I really wanted to read something funny, I'd scan the headlines in today's news.
Okay, done. I shrugged into my leather jacket—inhaling the intoxicating scent of new leather as I did so—and doffed my black fedora. Time to go find a new place to hang my hat. I tossed two twenties onto the desk by way of "thank you" to the thoughtful maid who'd left me that sinfully delectable square of chocolate. Then I bid adieu to the king-sized bed and the magnificent shower. And the room said a brief fare thee well to a few towels, tubes of shampoo and conditioner, and four single-serve coffee packets. Mementoes.
Hell on Earth 1 - Hell's Belles Page 19
