by Debra Dunbar
His eyes left mine as he turned it on and scrolled through the device. I dragged a ragged breath into my lungs, but I had only a momentary reprieve. With a snarl, he threw my phone across the room and again put his arms on either side of me, freezing me in place with his intense gaze.
“Messages. Missed calls. Texts. You will respond when I contact you. Immediately. There is no negotiation on this.”
What was wrong with him? Why was this such a big deal? “I forgot I had it off. I’ve been busy and hadn’t checked. Sheesh, settle down.”
That was clearly not the right thing to say. Fury flowed off Irix in waves, and his eyes darkened like molten lava.
“I don’t care how damned busy you are; nothing is more important than answering when I call. Nothing.”
“Fuck you. I’m not your dog.”
Irix wasn’t the only one that was pissed off, although, looking back on things, it probably wasn’t wise to antagonize him further.
“You’re my dog if I say you are. You don’t get to ignore me like that. When I tell you to meet me somewhere, you better fucking well be there.”
He’d totally lost control of his temper if he was cursing. Irix prided himself on his verbal restraint, unlike most demons. But underneath all the rage was a river of fear, and that halted my runaway mouth. He had been worried about me. This asshole–in–charge routine was his way of handling it. I doubted demons had much experience in dealing with concern for others.
“I’m sorry.” The words defused his anger. Two sincere words was all it took, but I added to them. “I know you think I was being rude and immature, but I truly didn’t know you’d called. I’m sorry.”
He stood up and took a deep breath, eyes still locked on mine. “There’s an angel in town, and he’s tracking someone through their energy signature. I don’t know if it’s you, me, or some other demon he’s hunting. I called to warn you, and when I couldn’t reach you, couldn’t find you anywhere… .”
Shit. No wonder he’d been so upset. And here I’d been, just a few miles out of town, blasting magical energy all over the bayous. I was lucky. Very lucky.
“I’m so sorry.” I felt terrible that I’d worried him and was kicking myself for forgetting to turn my phone back on.
“Why did you have your phone off?”
“I was at a sex club and thought it would be kind of rude if my phone went off in the middle of things.”
“Understandable. And afterwards?”
“I promised one of the local covens I’d do some magic on the bayou groves south of the city. I literally raced from one thing to another and forgot to turn it on. Although, it probably would have been just as rude if my phone had gone off in the middle of a ritual.”
Irix nodded then his eyes narrowed as they scanned me from top to toe. “So … you went to a sex club, yet here you are just as starving as you were last night? You had all day to get this done. What happened?”
Well, here goes nothing. “I didn’t manage to have sex. I tried this afternoon, but it didn’t work out, and the thing with the witches didn’t leave me enough time to do much at the sex club or find another partner. Jordan just dropped me off a few minutes ago. I was going to change and head out to remedy the situation.” There. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that I’d left out the fact that my “remedy” didn’t actually including having sex with anyone.
He glared, anger returning, but not to the crazy level of berserker rage it had before. “You didn’t have sex? What happened with the guy this afternoon? Was he a killer gnome? Bad breath? Socks with sandals?”
“He’d already been claimed.”
Irix made a choking noise. “Leave it to you. Do you know what the odds of that are? There are seven billion humans, and you pick the one among a hundred thousand in the city that has been spoken for.”
Maybe there was a silver lining in all this after all. If I could just buy myself a little more time, I could gain enough energy from the peep rooms at Bliss to satisfy him. I could do this — become a sort of voyeur, draining off the excess sexual energy of others without any kind of physical contact or morally ambiguous behavior. It would be the equivalent of eating out of garbage cans for the rest of my life, but hey, it might work.
“Can you give me another twenty–four hours?”
Irix stalked toward me, again boxing me against the sofa with his arms. I wasn’t trusting the gleam in his eyes.
“No.”
His mouth met mine before I could protest. This kiss wasn’t sweet or lazily seductive; it was hard, demanding. I could feel the edge of his anger when his teeth nipped along my bottom lip. The sofa sagged as his knees hugged the outside of my thighs, supporting his weight and freeing up his hands to bury them deep into my hair. His tongue explored mine, and I lifted my hips, arching up to meet him. I felt like he was drinking me in, swimming through every part of me.
With a smooth motion that surely was beyond the natural laws of physics, he stood, clasping me to his chest. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders. We broke our kiss, and I knew exactly where he was taking me. I wanted to protest, but his mouth was so close to mine. I could feel his breath, taste it, see with my hooded eyes the beautiful lips I wanted against mine.
Through the doorway, Irix eased me down to stand, holding me so lightly against him, I could only feel his heat. His lips were now soft as they brushed mine, his tongue gently tracing the corners of my mouth.
“I’m not having sex with you, Irix.”
I didn’t sound very convincing, and I knew in that moment that I lied. His kisses feathered on my nose, then on my forehead. My resolve wavered, died, vanished. I was going to have sex with him. It would be the best night of my life. I leaned my face against him and breathed deep, my hands moving toward the fly of his jeans.
“No.” Irix’s voice was full of regret. He turned me around, my back pressed to his front by the strong arms across my chest. “You’re having sex with him.”
At the edge of the bed stood what I can only describe as a gorgeous cowboy. Rugged. Tanned. Shirtless. He came complete with the big belt buckle accessorizing the front of his torn jeans. A battered hat lay on the bed alongside a pile of fabric that was probably his shirt. I didn’t pay too much attention; I was too busy ogling his impressive pectoral muscles. He shifted his weight to one foot and crossed his arms. Oh my God, those arms.
“Ma’am.”
And he called me “Ma’am”. This guy had to have been the hottest specimen of masculinity I’d ever seen, and he was eyeing me just as appreciatively in return.
“Does this meet your exacting standards?”
Irix didn’t have to ask. I’m sure he felt every bit of my reaction, from the flushed skin to the pheromones flying unchecked about the room. He sucked a sensitive spot on my neck, worrying it with his teeth, and I realized he was just as turned on as I was by this whole thing. Normally with Irix in the room, other men disappeared, but this was different. There was more here than just a super–hot guy ramping up my libido. The majority of my reaction came from the fact that Irix was enjoying this more than either me or Cowboy. It was him I wanted to please — him whose desire I got off on. Would he watch? Join in? What would he like me to do with this man?
And then it all came crashing down as I thought of the guy in the hotel room. I couldn’t do that. As much as I wanted Cowboy, as much as Irix wanted me to want Cowboy, I couldn’t.
“I’m not having sex with him either.”
Irix’s disappointment was worse than the anger that followed. His anger I could take. I’d been on the receiving end of that for over a month now.
“Give me another day or two,” I pleaded.
“No. It’s me or him. Or both of us. Pick.”
His arms were gentle around my waist in spite of his white knuckles. I appreciated his restraint and desperately wondered how I could get out of this one. He couldn’t force me. Wouldn’t force me. Or would he?
“One more day.”<
br />
“What’s wrong with him?”
I got the feeling he’d been about to ask “what’s wrong with me?” I looked over at Cowboy, who didn’t seem to mind that we were standing in front of him, discussing him as if he were a pork loin at the grocer.
“Absolutely nothing. It’s me that’s the problem.”
Irix growled. “Yes, it is you that’s the problem. I’ve never met a more stubborn, pig–headed, self–destructive idiot in my two–thousand years of life. If you don’t tell me right now what is going on in that pea–sized brain of yours, I’m going to throw you on the bed and force feed you my cock while that human rides you like a pony.”
Cowboy nodded enthusiastically, and I had to admit the idea had a lot of appeal. Irix reached down to un–snap my jeans as he nudged me toward the bed.
“All right, all right.” Irix halted at my words. “The guy at the hotel, the one who was claimed, he was pitiful. Every ounce of sexual energy was going to the demon that marked him. He was desperate and crying, a total wreck of unsatisfied need. She ruined his life.”
I felt Irix shrug. “So.”
So? Bastard. Just when I started to think he might be more than what a demon was supposed to be, he pulled out something like “so”. I yanked myself free from his arms and spun about to face him.
“It’s wrong! Fucking wrong! I’d rather starve than do that to someone.”
He looked … confused. “Then don’t.”
“I won’t. Because I’m not going to have sex with anyone again. Ever.”
It was a depressing idea. I thought Irix would be furious, but instead he started to laugh. Which made me furious. I punched him in the chest, which only made him laugh harder.
“Is that what all this is about? Some sex demon decided to wring out her victim like an old washcloth, and now you’re going to be celibate for an eternity? What are you, an angel?”
“It’s not funny.” I went to punch him again, and he grabbed my arm.
“Yes, it is funny. It’s like saying that you don’t want to eat pork, so you’re not going to eat anything ever again.”
“Should I leave?” Cowboy asked.
“No.”
“Yes.”
We’d replied at the same time. Cowboy looked back and forth between us then sat on the bed to wait it out. Irix released my hand. I held back from punching him again since he’d finally stopped laughing.
“Have you not been listening to a thing I’ve said this past month? What I’ve been teaching you? Amber, you are the one who controls the experience. You. Some demons like a strong tie, others prefer a lighter touch. You determine your style. And yes, you can vary it from partner to partner. It’s all you, elf–girl.”
“Oh.”
I was an idiot. I’d been so unnerved out by what I thought I was becoming, and unsettled by Irix’s presence, that I hadn’t done much but fight with him for the last four weeks. I looked up at him, into those golden eyes, and wondered why he hadn’t bailed on me weeks ago.
He sighed. “It’s my fault. I obviously didn’t do a good job at explaining these things. Maybe you’ll do better with a different instructor. Swendal, perhaps.”
A demon apologizing? But it was his suggestion that he should go home and send another in his place that sent my heart racing with panic. He couldn’t leave.
I shook my head. “No. I was too busy freaking out to listen to you. I’ll do better, I promise. Please stay.”
He stared at me, deciding, while I struggled to breathe.
“Please. I don’t want you to leave.” I was begging him, and I was on the verge of tears.
“Another day. Twenty–four hours.” His voice was husky, and something unreadable flashed across his face. I thought maybe he’d hug me, soothe me as he’d done the other night, but he stood as if frozen, with that odd expression. I nodded.
Irix escorted the disappointed cowboy to the door, and the pair left without another word. I felt like my world had been rocked to the core. I could do this — have sex with only the lightest of ties, or perhaps even none at all. It might mean I’d need more partners than most other sex demons, but that was okay. As long as I knew I wasn’t doing any harm, I’d be fine. I always loved sex anyway.
But now … . I glanced at the closed apartment door and felt depressed. I’d find at least one partner, and Irix wouldn’t need to share his energy with me. He wouldn’t need to have sex with me. Irix. The one being in this world that I’d come to realize I simply could not live without.
What had originally been an intense physical attraction was turning into something else. He was a demon, an incubus, but he was so much more. He’d shown me that he could be caring, considerate, even patient. These traits drew me in further. He might break my heart, but I was too far gone to hold back now. I took a deep breath and knew no matter what the future would bring, I was going to jump into this with both feet and no regrets.
I wanted everything he was willing to give to me, no matter what pain I went through afterward. One night might be all we shared, but what a night that would be. I just needed to dig in my heels and be a stubborn, pig–headed, self–destructive elf–girl for another twenty–four hours.
* * *
17
I stretched, feeling decadent to be hogging up Darci’s entire bed. Irix’s texts hadn’t been the only ones I had missed last night. My friend had made good on her plans to head over to Gavin’s, and the last text from her had indicated her intentions of spending the night. Poor guy. He’d be lucky if he could walk by the time Darci got through with him. I needed to take her to sex clubs more often.
Rolling over, I gloried in the soft feel of sheets, the feather pillow cradling my head, and the warm, hard body next to me. My heart froze and exploded into panicked action. There was a man in my bed, and he’d certainly not been there when I retired for the evening. Screaming, I launched myself off the mattress. I had no idea what I planned to do. I was naked with no weapons besides my demonic ones, and some instinctive part of my brain realized it wouldn’t be wise to launch a lightning bolt into Darci’s bed — strange male occupant or not.
My feet hit the ground, but before I could make a run for it, my toga–like attire tangled around my legs, dropping me to the floor in a heap of sheets and pillows. The figure on the bed stirred, and I shrieked again, brandishing a pillow as a naked man rose to his knees.
“Is this the way you wake up every morning? Screaming and rolling around on the floor in the bed linen?”
Irix. Demons have no concept of modesty. I’d seen him in the buff before, but still the sight rendered me speechless. His body was flawless. Silken hair just this side of black was loose from its usual tie and brushed along his sculpted, broad shoulders. His chest was well–defined without being absurdly huge. Toned abs were divided by a faint line of brown hair that led to … Oh my God. I would not look, would not look. Fuck it, I was looking.
Narrow hips, powerful thighs, and between them the most perfect specimen of male sex ever. Thick and long, but not so big that I worried about needing a shoehorn or a gallon of lube. Just right, and I was Goldilocks, eyeing it with intent. As if reading my mind, it twitched, beckoning me.
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then you better get back into this bed.”
This wasn’t how I’d envisioned our first night — or day, together. No, I’d better stay out of the bed. Tearing my eyes away, I hitched the sheet up higher around my chest and tried to think of something to say.
“What are you doing here — in Darci’s apartment, and especially in bed with me? I thought I had another twenty–four–hour extension.”
Irix sighed, and that very intriguing part of his anatomy relaxed. I know, I peeked.
“I came over to take you to breakfast, but you sleep like the dead. Since I had no idea how long you were going to be in that state, I figured I’d get some shut eye myself.”
Breakfast. My stomach rumbled at the idea. Irix climbed off the bed a
nd strode to the closet, completely unselfconscious of his nudity. This afforded me a lovely view of his backside, which was just as pleasing to the eye as the front of him.
“We’ve gotten off to a rocky start, you and I. Part of that is my fault, and part of that is you being a thick–headed, stubborn half–breed. So I’m here, waving the white flag and offering to treat you to pecan French toast as a gesture of good will.”
He pulled a blue sundress out of the closet and carried it over to me. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that these were all Darci’s clothes, and the sundress would probably rip at the seams if I tried to squeeze it over my curvy frame.
“So you want to bury the hatchet?” I took the dress from him. It was very unnerving having him standing naked, scant inches from me while I was sitting on the floor in a sheet. That put me eye level with … well, you–know–what.
“I would so love to bury the hatchet as well as other things, but I’m restraining myself from that impulse. So, French toast and a fresh start?”
He held out his hand, and I took it, purposely letting the sheet drop to the floor as he drew me to my feet. Yeah. Two could play this game.
“Fresh start. Now get out of here and put on some coffee while I shower and get dressed.”
Irix’s gaze wandered appreciatively, and I noticed his eyes weren’t the only part of him that approved of my body.
“I can scrub your back,” he suggested.
I swatted him playfully with Darci’s sundress. “Out. And coffee. I’m going to be very grumpy if I don’t have coffee.”
He bowed and gathered his clothing from the floor. “Yes, my elven princess. Coffee it is.”
***
The French toast was heavenly, smothered in pecans and drenched in a sweet rum sauce. Irix had surprised me with his coffee–making skills, and then further surprised me with light, entertaining breakfast conversation. He asked how I’d met Darci then listened intently as I talked about various college classes and my plans for a senior thesis.
