The Deal: Reverse Harem Serial (Succubus Bargain Book 2)

by L. L. Frost

  The closer I get, the more his unique scent of crisp, fresh snowfall tickles my nose. Far more alluring than the butterflies. I shiver, this time with more than cold.

  He leans his chin in his hand, pinkie curled next to his lips as he watches my approach. “Are you hungry, Adeline?”

  Frost melts beneath my toes as I freeze in front of him, jerking my eyes up to meet his. “What did you come here for?”

  His knees slowly close until he boxes in my legs, a venus flytrap catching its prey. “You seem to keep misplacing your contract, so I brought you a new one.”

  The chill of his body creeps into my bones to form ice crystals in my blood, making me feel slow and heavy. “Isn’t that going above and beyond, Mr. Bank President?”

  “You also left this at the club.” He reaches through two potted plants to pull out a soiled rag of material.

  Confused, I stare at it for a moment before recognition sets in. My blouse. Then my gaze jerks to my lace covered breasts, inches from the man’s face. His attention shifts, too, and the temperature drops until his body becomes so cold it burns where his legs touch mine. Instead of hurting, it fills me with a melting heat and an overwhelming desire to curl into his lap to sleep.

  My bones rattle with danger, shaking me out of the lassitude.

  “You didn’t have to bring it here personally.” I reach for the blouse, and he drops it to curl his fingers around my wrist.

  “What’s this?” He rotates my arm to show the underside where the meter maid wrote her number in black sharpie.

  Usually, I don’t feed on humans. It’s so hard to only take a little of their life energy while corporeal. But if I’m very careful, I won’t hurt her. And I’ll only have to put up with her bondage kink this one time. While I don’t like to be tied up, starvation wins over squeamishness this time. Of course, Landon didn’t leave me with any energy to beguile her. Will my whammy from yesterday still cloud her perception?

  I shrug. “Breakfast, maybe.”

  When I tug on my arm, his grip tightens. “There’s no need to dine out when I’m already here.”

  “I’m not signing that contract.” I search the table for the offensive stack of papers, but he stashed it out of sight.

  His other hand lifts to my bare waist. “Call it an advance.”

  “Get your ears fixed. I’m not signing.” I shiver as his thumb traces patterns next to my belly button, little circles from which hunger spirals outward. My pulse spikes, rushing blood to all the good places in my body.

  Cold breath puffs across my breast, and my nipple tightens into a hard pebble. Emil glances up at me through white eyelashes. “Then pay me.”

  I stiffen my spine to stop myself from swaying toward his mouth, only inches away. Will his tongue be cold like the rest of him? Will he taste of icicles? I shake my head. “I don’t have any cash.”

  He frowns with distaste. “I don’t need money.” His grip on my wrist shifts, his fingers gliding over the black numbers on my arm. “Give me this.”

  “The meter maid?” Unable to resist temptation, my free hand lifts, fingers sifting through the stiff strands of hair at the back of his neck. “What will you do with her?”

  His palm slides up to the bottom of my rib cage. “Does it matter?”

  I freeze in place, and my pulse slows as I stare down at him. “Yes. It does actually.”

  He leans back, taking his tempting mouth away from me. “Why? Weren’t you going to suck her dry anyway?”

  Now I lean away from him, the bracket of his knees against the back of mine preventing me from going further. “As I said before, you know nothing about me.”

  “I’ve met enough succubus to know your kind.”

  “Then go harass one of them.” Annoyed, I twist within his trap, offended at his claim to know more of my kind. Of course he would. His obvious power means he’s old, even among demons.

  “I only want the number.” He yanks me forward to sprawl against his chest. This close, his energy stings against my skin like frostbite. Our noses touch, his mouth a breath away from mine. “Is it a deal?”

  Resisting temptation, I push for more. “How much is the number worth to you?”

  Amusement flickers through his eyes. “Just don’t drain me dry.”

  I don’t wait for him to change his mind. My arms wind around his neck, my mouth fastening over his. When he doesn’t open fast enough, I catch his bottom lip between my teeth and tug, then sweep my tongue across his teeth.

  My fingers dig into his hair, making a mess of his careful business style. I fist my hands in the thick strands and yank his head back, satisfied when he grunts and his mouth opens for me.

  His tongue does taste like icicles, metallic and mineral, and my lips grow numb. Uncaring, I lap at the energy that fills him, so much that it practically spills down my throat faster than I can swallow it. Ice tea on a hot summer day. Invigorating. As it floods into my belly, my body sings with renewed life.

  “Hey, that looks delicious. Mind if I top off?” Landon calls from the doorway.

  I yank back, twisting to hiss at my mentor. Emil is my food source.

  Landon holds up his hands in surrender. “Whatever, just clean up when you’re done.”

  Snatching a butterfly from the air, he ambles back out of the kitchen.

  Mortified, I stare at the empty space where he stood. Never once have I hissed at Landon.

  “You’re not done already, are you?” Emil rumbles from beneath me.

  Startled, I turn back to him. My legs wind around him, ankles locked around the back of the chair, my arms looped around his neck like he’s some kind of tree I’m trying to climb.

  He studies my face for a moment. “Take more. By my calculation, I’ve only paid for six of the numbers so far.”

  Julian would charge me a small fortune for what I already took. “Remind me not to ask you for investment advice.”

  His hands smooth up my back, over the place where my wings shift restlessly beneath my skin, and he urges me closer. “One more sip should do it.”

  I stiffen with apprehension. “Why are you so eager for me to take your energy?”

  His eyebrows lift. “Didn’t we agree on a price?”

  “No, actually, we didn’t.” Slowly, I unwind my legs. “That’s rather clumsy for a business man.”

  He scowls. “I said not to drain me dry.”

  “That’s like writing a blank check for a succubus.” I push his arms away and climb off his lap, confused all over again by this demon. “Since you know so many of us, you should know not to say something so stupid. I could have destroyed your corporeal form without draining you dry.”

  He shrugs. “I can always make a new one.”

  Irritation floods through me in an instant. Not every demon has that luxury. It took me almost half a century, and I rushed the job, which lead to my recent issues with re-entering dreamland. As in, my complete inability to access it.

  “Well goody for you.” I reach past him to snatch my blouse off the table. “If you’re so desperate to get rid of more energy, there’s a game obsessed incubus in the other room that will be happy to take care of that for you.”

  “Now, wait a minute.” He jumps to his feet, reaching for my arm.

  “No, touchie.” I swat him away, surprised to find his hand somewhat warm to the touch. The vein is his forehead throbs in obvious irritation, but the room remains at its climate controlled temperature, not a hint of frost in sight.

  He folds his arms across his chest. “I didn’t come here to feed your playmate.”

  “Why did you come?” I shrug into my soiled blouse, ignoring the stench of stale booze that wafts from it.

  “I already told you.” His eyes lose some of their color, but no where near the white they transformed into yesterday. I must have taken more than I realized if his iciness is on the fritz now. “I came to redeliver the contract.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well you can take it and shove it—”


  “Miss Pond!”

  “—in the trash.” When I discover the majority of the buttons gone from my blouse, I decide to just tie the ends together. I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “Fucking, prude.”

  This time, frost crackles across the floor, quickly spreading toward me.

  I back my way to the front door, yelling, “Later, Landon!”

  Emil stalks after me the entire way, fog rolling outward from him with every step. “We’re not finished with our discussion.”

  “We are for now.” Using my new energy to increase my speed, I zip out the door and into my car.

  It comes to life just as Emil makes it to the porch. Backing around the black sports car that blocks the driveway, I roll down my window, grab the new contract that sits in the passenger seat, and chuck it on the hood of his fancy ride. Then, I peel away like the demons from hell are on my heels.

  Because, for some unknown reason, they are.

  The Deal

  Less than five minutes after leaving Landon’s, I pull back into the Bucket-O-Wings drive-thru and order myself a vanilla ice cream cone, ignoring what brought on the sudden craving for a cold treat.

  So what if I want to numb my tongue by licking a phallic shaped tower of frozen cream. It has nothing to do with the sexy, annoying demon I left in the driveway.

  Sugar cone in hand, I circle around the stucco building and park to eat and figure out what to do next. My current method of running away from the persistent trio won’t work forever. It seems their determination will out last my ability to do without basic human needs like a bed and shower.

  All of my worldly possessions will be put up for auction in—I check the time on my phone—thirty-six hours. While I might be able to do without most of it, the specialty baking pans and my espresso machine took half a year to buy and my bank account sits dangerously close to zero, with my credit cards near maxed out.

  Staring out the windshield at the giant, orange chicken sign, I take a long lick off the ice cream cone.

  Not having to pay for the apartment every month really would help out.

  Another lick.

  Having a ready source of energy wouldn’t be a bad deal, either.

  My thighs tingle with the half remembered press of Emil’s slacks against my bare skin. I’d been too hungry to really appreciate the body of the man I wrapped myself around. Muscular, definitely. Hard…everywhere. And as long as he had something else to do with his mouth besides talk, he was tolerable to be around.

  Tobias, too, seems bearable to be around. Though his cocky attitude needs to come down a few pegs. And his obsession with my wings still worries me.

  I bite off the top of my ice cream, my throat freezing as I swallow it down.

  Kellen, though…he took my home. Helped the others drive me into a corner. How does a club owner fit with the banker duo? Is it just a group of old demons hanging out together? Like one of those good-old-boys clubs?

  Lifting my phone from my lap, I tap in the passcode that lets me access the demon registration database. When I type Kellen’s name into the city registry, the listing shows him as the owner of Fulcrum Night Club. Not surprising. What shocks me is the long list of other properties he owns, including The Atlas, my mid-rent apartment building.

  Anger spikes through me, my fingers tightening on the sugar cone until it cracks down one side. Everything that happened in the last two days feels like some elaborate trap I stumbled into.

  But why do they want me so much? Or is it even me they really want? If another succubus had been stupid enough to catch their attention, would I now have my bank loan and be happily on my way to opening my bakery?

  Annoyance buzzes through me. I don’t like to be the most convenient succubus on hand for their game.

  I suck up the last bit of my icy treat, then drop the broken cone into the little trashcan I keep in the car and wipe the stickiness off of my hand with a napkin from the glove box.

  Time to go on the offensive.

  ***

  Back at the clerk’s office, I bypass the waiting area where I spent an eternity yesterday and head deeper into in the labyrinth of hallways to the demon library. The closed double-doors discourage visitors, but I press the intercom button on the box mounted to the wall anyway.

  After a solid minute passes, I press it again.

  It crackles to life, and an irritated voice barks, “What do you want?”

  I lean closer to the microphone. “I’d like access to the demon histories, please.”

  “Do you have a library card?”

  “I do.” I dig in my wallet and pull it out, then hesitate, unsure what to do with it.

  The only other time I came here was with my cousin Cassandra, and the doors were open when we arrived. Did I come outside normal business time? No helpful sign on the wall gives me their normal hours of operation, but they should be open in the morning during the week. My search for a camera comes up empty, so I settle for waving it in front of the microphone box.

  The intercom crackles again. “Are you going to scan it, or just leave me hanging in suspense?”

  “Umm…” I press the card against the front of the box and move it back and forth. “Did you get it?”

  “Oh, for the love of—”

  After a moment, the left door pops open and a wizened, old hag zooms forth on a two-wheeled scooter, claws curled around the cheery-red handle bars. Her wrinkled lids droop over her eyes, obscuring them completely as she speeds toward me. I resist the urge to scramble back. That would be beyond rude, and I can’t risk offending the library’s gatekeeper.

  She screeches to a hard stop next to me and extends one hand in expectation. Hurriedly, I hand over the library card, careful of her razor sharp nails.

  “You scan it like this.” She pinches the card between her middle and foreclaw and flips it over, waving it beneath the intercom, where a red light flicks on. A moment later, it beeps.

  “Thank you.” Feeling foolish, I take the card back and return it to my wallet.

  Her long, pointed nose twitches. “You need a bath, girl. I’m not sure I should let you into my sanctuary.”

  Blood rushes to my face at the criticism. Emil’s apparent disregard for my appearance let me forget for a moment that I last showered yesterday morning, and my clothes are worse for wear.

  My bare toes curl against the low-pile carpet in an attempt to hide as I finger-comb my hair in a futile attempt to look more presentable. “I’m sorry. I’ve recently found myself homeless. This is all I have.”

  Her wrinkled face tightens into a scowl. “You can’t sleep at my library.”

  “No, I wouldn’t do that.” I push back the self pity that tries to swamp me with doubt. “I just need to look up a couple demons. They might not even be in the history books.”

  Her head tilts at an unnatural right angle. “Do you know their names?”

  “I know what they go by right now.” Demon names are tricky things, evolving and changing over time as they assume different corporeal forms. “Kellen Maximus Cassius, Emil König, and Tobias Braxton.”

  Her head tilts the other way and a sense of being studied washes over me, as if she can somehow see beneath my skin to the core of what makes me a succubus. “They’re a troublesome lot. You should steer clear of them.”

  I straighten in surprise. “You know them?”

  “It’s hard not to, when you’ve lived as long as I have.” Her claws tighten on her handlebars, and the scooter spins in a perfect circle. “Don’t get mixed up with them. They’ll only cause you hardship.”

  I run behind as she zips back toward the open library door. “I’m already in trouble with them. They won’t leave me alone.”

  “Ah, they must need a new succubus.”

  I stumble as I pass through the entrance into deep shadows. “What do you mean a new succubus?”

  My voice sounds muffled in the larger space, far bigger than I remembered from my last visit. When I came before, the library
resembled any other modern, human library with short bookcases and bright lights. Now, the rows of computer tables are replaced with bookshelves that tower up to the vaulted ceiling, disproportionate to distance between this room and the city street above. Dim sconces fill the room with more shadow than light.

  I glance back at the doorway, searching for the telltale shimmer of a dimensional portal. Pale yellow light rims the entrance on this side. Unnerved, I hurry to the front desk.

  The hag’s scooter blocks one end where she parked it to lean against the counter. She shuffles behind the desk, only her head visible, until she reaches an ancient computer at the other end. With loud grunts, she climbs up onto the stool in front of it and pulls out a keyboard, attached to the computer by an old, spiral cord.

  Eager to find someone with possible answers, I grip the edge of the desk and repeat my question. “What do you mean they need a new succubus?”

  Her head swivels into another unnatural angle so she faces me straight on while her body stays in place. “You really have no clue who you’re dealing with, do you?”

  I shake my head. “Their corporeal forms look human. And they don’t smell like demons I’ve met before.”

  “No, I don’t imagine they do!” Her jaw unhinges and a cackle of glee spills across her black tongue. “Run away while you still can. You’re centuries too young to play with these three.”

  My knuckles turn white as I grip the counter. “I won’t be driven out of town. Either tell me what you know, or I’ll find the information myself.”

  “Confident, aren’t you?” Her talons stab at the keyboard and a low hum fills the room. A moment later, she reaches beneath the counter and pulls out a sheet of paper. “You’ll want to reference these volumes.”

  Taking the list, I point at the high bookcases at my back. “So, I’ll find these in there?”

  She sighs heavily. “They’re numbered. Just follow the plaques.”

  I check the number listed beside the first book title and walk over to the nearest bookcase to check the numbers on a bronze plate attached to the side. No where near close. Shoulders squared, I march down the long line of books to the next row deeper within the library.