by Jill Myles
Zane pressed another fervent kiss on my mouth.
My body instantly ignited with lust again, and when he pulled away, I tried to keep him there with my lips, my head following his as he took a step back. “We don’t have time.”
“What do you mean?”
He lit another cigarette, his hands twitching as he devoured me with his eyes, sucking heavily on the cigarette as if that could replace my mouth on his. “It’s Caleb,” he explained, his voice short and terse. “The queen sent him as a spy, not because she expects me to need help. This is yet another test for me, the misbehaving protégé. She’s putting you in my reach and has forbidden me to touch you. And Caleb will be her lapdog that will report back to her.”
“Oh.” Words failed in my throat, and disappointment crashed through me. “So we can’t … be together?”
He shook his head, silent. The only sound was the sizzle of the cigarette paper. A long moment passed between us. “I thought it would be enough just to be in your presence again, but …” He gave me a rueful look from under a floppy lock of hair, and my heart melted all over again. “You’re very hard to resist.”
That made my legs weak with desire. “But you just kissed me.”
His eyes grew hot as he stared at me. “Oh, I plan on kissing you and touching you every time he turns his back. You have my word on that.”
Turn the page for rave reviews of The Succubus Diaries …
My Fair Succubi is also available as an eBook
Everybody loves these fun and sexy books from
Jill Myles!
SUCCUBI LIKE IT HOT
“One hell of a ride. Myles’s creation has a wicked sense of humor … good characters and plenty of sizzling sex.”
—Romantic Times
“Weaves steamy scenes with humor and an intricate and interesting plotline, so the book is an excellent choice to dive into on a chilly night.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Jill Myles expertly turns her paranormal romance into a cleverly enjoyable story filled with passionate encounters and unanticipated predicaments. … Succubi Like It Hot will tickle your funny bone and leave you grinning continuously.”
—Single Titles
“Jill Myles has a fun and engaging writing style … .”
—Bitten by Books (5 Tombstones)
“Sexy and exciting. … I can’t wait to read more of Jackie’s adventures.”
—Night Owl Reviews (4.5 stars)
GENTLEMEN PREFER SUCCUBI
“Sustains an extraordinary, confectionary appeal. … Myles’s sexy, wacky humor is definitely something to watch.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Jill Myles just wowed me! Don’t miss this book!”
—New York Times bestselling author Kresley Cole
“Engaging. … A fun, sexy romp that you’ll hate to put down.”
—Romantic Times
“Hysterical and sexy. … An excellent combination of chick-lit, paranormal romance, and mystery.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Appealing characters, passionate desires plus interesting original ideas . . . all interwoven to construct an outstanding paranormal tale.”
—Single Titles
“Awesome. … Thanks to Ms. Myles for giving paranormal romance readers a new series to become addicted to.”
—Fallen Angels (5 Angels; Recommended Read)
“Witty, sexy, and wickedly fun. Jill Myles is a captivating new voice, and I can’t wait to see what she writes next.”
—New York Times bestselling author Ilona Andrews
“A fabulous roller-coaster ride filled with sex, adventure, humor, and just enough darkness to keep the reader guessing. Hot, delicious, and witty, the hottest new star in the genre has just landed.”
—USA Today bestselling author Kathryn Smith
“A lavish confection of a book, its deliciousness frosted by dark-winged angels and vampires with bite … supernaturally sensational.”
—National bestselling author Ann Aguirre
“Deliciously sexy and fun. … With stiletto-sharp humor and two heroes to die for, Gentlemen Prefer Succubi is a temptation no reader should resist.”
—National bestselling author Meljean Brook
“You can’t read one page any more than you can eat just one potato chip. Jill Myles is inventive, addictive, and wickedly entertaining.”
—Award-winning author Charlene Teglia
Also by Jill Myles
Gentlemen Prefer Succubi
Succubi Like It Hot
Available from Pocket Books
Pocket Star Books
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Jill Myles
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department,
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First Pocket Star Books paperback edition January 2011
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Interior design by Julie Adams
Cover illustration by Shane Rebenschied
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4391-8819-4
ISBN 978-1-4391-8824-8 (ebook)
For Meljean Brook. Because when I grow up,
I want to be you. Or, you know, just write like you.
Thank you for being such a good friend.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Behind every clean, polished, exciting finished book is a sloppy, disorganized manuscript that takes a lot of work. It’s no surprise that I have a hardworking team on my side that I am thoroughly grateful to be working with. Major thanks to my editor, Micki Nuding, who doesn’t seem to mind my “Choose Your Own Adventure” style plot synopses or the fact that I really like exclamation marks. Thanks to my editor’s assistant, Danielle Rose Poiesz, who always has time in the day for my questions, no matter how irrelevant. And a big thank-you to my copyeditor, Patty Romanowski, who has eagle eyes when it comes to continuity. Thank goodness you do, or else my characters would run around naked and their eyes would change colors on every page (I am not kidding). Also, a special thanks to my agent, Holly Root, because she is everything that is good and hardworking, and never seems to mind that I sometimes email her in LOLcat. Professionalism, I haz it.
A big thank-you to my husband, who tirelessly does the dishes when I’m on a deadline, always has time for brainstorming, and is the most supportive person a girl could ask for. You’re my secret co-writer, plotter, motivational coach, and artistic sounding board all at once. I’m a lucky, lucky girl to have you.
A special heartfelt thanks to the crew that I email on a regular basis—Ilona Andrews, Rae Carson, Gretchen McNeil, Kasey Mackenzie, Michelle Rowen, Jane Litte, Vernieda Vergara, and far too many o
thers to count. You guys keep me sane (ish).
Also, a big thank-you to everyone that has messaged me through Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, Livejournal, or simply taken the time out to write me an email about how much you liked the books. I read every single one of them and every time it makes my day. So thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I never realized what a blessing an audience can be. You guys rock, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this book.
CHAPTER ONE
At Fred’s subtle touch, my breath caught in my throat.
A small moan of delight escaped me, and I clutched at his sleeve. “Do it again,” I whispered.
He moved his fingers over the spot once more, his breath coming hard with excitement. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out with sheer pleasure.
“What do you think?” he murmured huskily in my ear.
Oh God, I was in danger of losing control if he didn’t stop.
“Jackie?”
“Classic Puuc,” I said with a gasp.
“Do you think so?” He touched the monitor again and zoomed in on the area in question.
Good archaeology was better than the best orgasm. My fingers spasmed against his sleeve in excitement. “Oh my God! Stop! Stop right there! Look!”
Fred froze the cursor and turned the monitor to me.
I stared at the blocky red shape on the screen of the radar equipment with utter delight. “Definite classic Puuc! Look,” I said, pointing at the edge of the red blob with my fingernail. “Thick, heavy veneer stone with a clean edge. These lighter spots around the side suggest doorways cut into the rock. I bet if we dug it up, we’d find a stone relief to rival that of Chichén Itza.” I leaned over the monitor, my heart slamming in my chest. “Can we pan out to the rest of the jungle?”
Fred leaned over me, plastering his groin against my backside. My co-archaeologist was the possessor of one raging boner. Bad idea to lean over the table.
“Jackie,” he murmured in my ear. “Forget about the dig for a moment. I need to talk to you.”
I clamped my thighs together tightly, trying to rid myself of the unwanted feelings of pleasure. Despite the fact that I didn’t want Fred in the slightest, my cursed succubus body reacted to his touch. I shoved my elbow backward, hard, trying to gut him. “Get off of me,” I said, squirming away.
“We’re finally alone,” Fred said. “I wanted to tell you how I feel.” His young face was alight with desire, his dirty brown ponytail damp with sweat. “No one’s around.”
That had an alarming ring to it. I turned and glanced around and, sure enough, the local workers that we hired to help out around the dig were nowhere to be seen. None of the university team was around, either. That was odd. All the guys at the site were normally so taken with my looks that I couldn’t shake them, no matter what I did. I had an adoring admirer or two following me at all times, even to the port-a-potty.
It really sucked to be supernaturally beautiful.
Fred moved toward me again and caught my hands. “I’ve been holding back for months now, waiting for the right moment.” His hands were sweaty, and a droplet of sweat rolled down his nose and splashed onto my arm. Gross.
“And you think now is a good time? It’s ninety-five degrees in the shade, Fred, and we’re in the jungle. I haven’t showered in four days—and it smells like you haven’t showered for longer.” I wrinkled my nose and tried to jerk my hand away again. Where did everyone go? The deserted grounds should have been crawling with archaeologists.
It gave me the willies.
Fred pressed a fervent kiss to my hand. “You’re so beautiful, Jackie.”
Sigh. “Duh.”
Of course I was beautiful. I was a succubus. We were cursed to have our faces and bodies remolded into that of a man’s ideal fantasy. To think I’d once complained about how mousy my old looks were. I never realized how damned inconvenient it would be to be gorgeous.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” He continued to kiss my knuckles, pressing moist lips against them.
I doubted this dork met a lot of women, period, much less a succubus. Fred was the type of guy who probably got picked last in gym class and owned a vast library of Dungeons and Dragons books. Not exactly a ladies’ man.
“Fred,” I began. “You do realize that Noah’s going to kick your ass if he sees this.” It was a bluff, of course. Noah—my beautiful Serim lover—might glare sternly at Fred or throw some money around to have Fred removed from camp, but I doubted he’d actually get physical with the guy.
Noah was too elegant for that sort of thing.
But my suitor was shaking his head with passion. “He’s busy right now. And this might be my only chance to show you how I feel.”
I frowned at that. “What do you mean, ‘only chance’?” We were all going to be on this dig for at least another two months.
More of his sweat dripped onto my arms, and I struggled again to break his grip. Why oh why weren’t succubi gifted with super-strength? No one needed it more than a hot immortal girl. Men were compelled to fall in love with my new face, and I’d have happily traded beauty for the ability to punch the hell out of Fred at the moment.
So I used the only other weapon I had available—I pretended to faint, going limp in his arms.
As expected, Fred released my hands to catch me as I went down, and I slapped my open palm against his forehead.
It worked. He collapsed.
I didn’t hit him hard, of course. I doubted I could hit him hard enough to leave a bruise. But his mind shut off with the touch of my hand to his forehead, and he went down for the count.
There was one perk to being a succubus, at least. I could shut down his mind and put him into a deep, dreamless sleep, and then pick through his memories if I wanted to. Not the most handy skill, depending on the situation, and I tried not to use it much, since it tended to backfire in rather spectacular ways. But desperate times call for desperate moves.
I didn’t let him stay unconscious long. Kneeling beside his prostrate body, I touched his forehead to wake him up again, then patted his hand as if I were worried. “Fred? Fred? Are you all right?”
His eyes fluttered open slowly and focused on me. “What … what happened?”
I put on my best concerned expression and squeezed his hand, maybe a little too roughly. “You were leaning in to kiss me, and you passed out,” I lied.
Fred sat up, cradling his head in his free hand. “I did?”
“You did.” I helped him to his feet, then dusted off his shirt. “Fred, I’m not sure but … I think you should go see a doctor.” Step one: lay the trap.
He gave me a confused look. “Why?”
I made my eyes go wide. “Well, you do know that if you pass out when you get an erection, that’s an early warning sign of extremely high blood pressure. And you’re far too young to have that sort of thing happen to you.”
Brushing the sweaty, long hair off his forehead, Fred stared ahead blankly. “I’ve never done that before.” His hand went to his wrist, as if checking his pulse.
“Of course not,” I said sweetly, taking him by the elbow and pointing him toward the Jeep. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about.” Step two: play to the ego. “You’re a healthy, strong man. It’s probably nothing. But just to be safe, don’t you think you should head into Mérida and get yourself checked out?”
“But … the survey equipment … the dig …”
“There’s nothing that can’t wait until the crew returns later tonight.” I pulled my keys out of my pocket and placed them in his hand. “Why don’t you take my Jeep? Go to town, spend the night in air-conditioning, get checked out by the doctor, and come back in a few days. I’ll explain everything to Mr. Gideon.”
“Everything?” Fred swallowed hard.
I took pity on him. “Almost everything.” I shook my finger at him. “And as long as the rest never happens again, it’ll remain our secret.”
Sorta. I planned on compl
aining long and hard to Mr. Gideon.
In a daze, Fred climbed into the Jeep and started the engine. I tried not to smile too cheerfully as the Jeep disappeared down the dirt road into the jungle. My problem neatly disposed of, I raced back to the GPR equipment to get another glimpse of those red blobs. To think that we had found another set of outlying buildings! We could expand on the dig, perhaps get another grant from the university … my mind raced at the thought.
To my disappointment, Fred’s fall had jostled the computer, and the screen was dark. I tapped the monitor twice before glancing down and seeing the plug hanging out of the socket. A quick replugging showed that I needed a password to reboot the system, a password I didn’t have. I sighed in disgust. So much for that. And without someone to help me move the surface antenna, I couldn’t do any further radar scans until the others returned.
Disgruntled, I packed up the equipment I could and went in search of the rest of the crew. We’d decided to set up in the least thickly forested portion of the ancient grounds of Yuxmal, and workers had cleared even more area to set up the tent city that had been our home for the past few months. A very empty tent city. It was midday, so unless everyone had ran off for an impromptu siesta, the campsite was truly deserted.
What the heck was going on?
The tent I shared with Noah was at the edge of camp, near the base of a massive stone pyramid—the discovery that had started the dig itself. As I approached our tent, I could hear the generator humming and the sound of rotating fans buzzing. I paused outside. The door flap was down, which seemed like a bad idea given the heat and humidity. Inside, I heard a muffled curse.
Noah was here, at least. I put aside my odd foreboding about the camp’s emptiness and ran my long fingernails along the weatherproofed canvas, the sound that passed for a knock in a tent city. “Knock knock.”
“Don’t come in,” Noah barked.
I frowned at the tent wall. “What do you mean, don’t come in?” I lifted the flap and entered anyhow.
My jaw dropped. Noah was clad in nothing but boxer shorts, and beads of sweat trailed down his flat, golden abs. The large folding table that filled the middle of the tent was covered with a paper tablecloth that fluttered in the wake of the rotating fans set at each corner of the tent. Two place settings decorated the table, along with a large covered dish. A row of pale candles was lined up in front of Noah, who held a box of matches in his hand.
