Demons Like It Hot (15 page)

“Wow. Impressive.”

“Why’s that?”

“Mr. Whiskers—Farquhar doesn’t listen to many people. Not even Rafe.”

“Just like a cat.”

Farquhar’s head popped up. “Ah can still hear ye.”

“Take the guest room. Tonight only.”

“Fine.” Farquhar moseyed over to the entertainment center, climbed up on his back paws and pressed a button on the DVD player. He pulled the DVD out of the open turntable and spun the disc around a clawed finger. With quick flick, he sent the DVD flipping up in the air and caught the DVD on the tip of his tail. “Gie me ma scotch, buddy.”

“I think you’ve had enough. You’re a cat.”

“Ah’m an imp. A powerful one. Dinnae make me go medieval on yer crease.”

“Here’s your scotch, Farquhar. We’ll talk more about this later.” She laid the bottle in front of him.

“Wha’ever.” With that, he batted the bottle down the hallway and toward the second door on the right. “Ah’ll still be watching ye.” The door slammed shut behind him.

“Blood and damnation. I’ve never met a pair of more obstinate beings, human and demon combined.”

He yearned to sit down next to her and put on a less violent movie. Something more to Serah’s liking. To pluck some popcorn from that bucket and feed it to her one kernel at a time. To pull her close to him and—bloody hell. He moved to take the spot vacated by Farquhar earlier.

“Pair? You aren’t all that amenable either.”

With a disgruntled groan, he opted to take the recliner instead. This wouldn’t be easy. “I have reasons. I’ve lived a long life. I’ve seen enough death and destruction. I will not sit idly while the world’s only possible chance at salvation lounges here and ignores her calling.”

“All I know how to do is cook. How do you expect me to save the world from demons? Feed them to death?”

This was getting futile. He couldn’t touch her, though. Too many sensations zinged through him. And from the look he glimpsed in her eyes, she felt them too. And then there was the fact that she had
touched
him. And she still lived.

“What happened when you touched me earlier?” he asked. Oh, something had happened, all right. But not the normal thing that happened when a human touched a demon without permission—agonizing pain, and sometimes, death.

“I already told you nothing happened.”

“Exactly.”

Serah sank into the sofa and averted his glance. “Maybe Rafe or Lucy put a protection spell on me.”

“Good try, but no. Enrapturement only works on
normal
humans.”

“Maybe you’re wrong and they did cast a charm on me.”

“Rafael and Lucia gave me their word. You are un-enrapturable.”

“Maybe I’m not human.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Everything started after Lucy opened the chest. Maybe I’m possessed.”

“If that were the case, you wouldn’t have demon-sense. Only those who are pure—or blessed—can smell the Infernati odor.”

Serah leaned in, question flashing in her gaze. “And if you’re not a blessed Paladin yet, how can you?”

Matthias ground his teeth. He wasn’t proud of his past. He’d done things that would send any respectable person packing. At the time it seemed right. After all, he needed to survive. “I’ve worked for some unsavory people.”

“You already mentioned it.” Serah leaned back into the sofa. “If you want my trust, then you need to be honest with me. I get the feeling you’re hiding something.”

“My past is not pretty, Seraphina.” The moment he spoke her real name, his heart plummeted. A frown creased her lips and she exhaled a deep sigh. “I have killed many, Infernati, Paladin, and humans alike.”

“And yet the Fore-Demons allowed you to join?”

“Maybe they want more amusement in their ancient demonic lives.”

“Amusement?”

“Maybe they enjoy watching me suffer.”

“So protecting me is torture? Is that what you’re saying?”

More than she knew. Torture in the most tantalizing ways. God, the things he wanted to do to her. His loins throbbed in response. He turned his head away.

“If you don’t care for me, then have them reassign you. I hate being treated like an inconvenience.”

The gauntlet had been dropped. He clenched his fists. “The feeling, my dear, is very mutual.” Maybe it was time to show her just how inconvenient she was.

He hauled himself to his feet and snaked his arm around her curvy waist. Pulling her against him, he angled her head to meet his gaze. Her sapphire pupils sparked in challenge, a challenge the certifiable part of him had no qualms about accepting. Grasping the curls at her neck, he continued to take in her beauty. What harm could one searing kiss do?

Just one kiss. To put her in her place.

Hah! He wanted to put her in to many places—mainly his bed.

Her heart thumped against his. A soft gasp broke the silence. She pushed a hand against his chest. It was as if he were struck by lightning. Energy zinged through his body through every receptor. Then again, lightning probably didn’t feel this damned good.

“What—”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. With a quick sweep, he brought her lips to his. Sizzling energy exploded between their skin. Much to his delight, she did not pull away. She inched her arms around his shoulders, friction sparking between their bodies. Fingers laced in the hair at the nape of his neck, she pressed closer as her lips parted. Acquiescence never tasted so good. Like fresh plums and—warm buttered popcorn.

His tongue sensed her acceptance. As if on its own, it swept along her lips and pressed into her warm, inviting mouth. Who knew fruit and popcorn could taste so good. His greedy tongue danced along her equally eager tongue, sending all his blood rushing to his groin. He throbbed against the heat that pressed so intimately against him.

He didn’t want to stop.

He moved his mouth lower, nibbling on her lip. Tongue-laving against the rosy softness of her skin turned to nipping. He moved his mouth lower, to her chin. The pulse at her neck thumped. He was doomed. He didn’t care.

Without further thought, he traced his tongue along her neck. Flicking and flitting, he swept his tongue along the pulsing vein. Right to the tip of her earlobe. His hands worked up and down her body, tracing the curves of her full breasts.

Another tiny moan reverberated against his lips. Her hands moved to the collar of his linen shirt and to the first button. With eager ministrations, she plucked it open. Tracing fingertips through his exposed chest hair, she moved to the second button and inched open the wrinkled shirt. Roving hands over his pectorals, her fingers brushed against his scar. The one scar that had brought him into the life as a soulless demon. His body jerked in response. He couldn’t let her touch him there. The one part of his body that could corrupt her own.

This
isn’t right.

With an abrupt pause, he pulled away. He would not risk her innocence. And from the way her hands moved against his skin, that was where they were heading.

He steeled himself for the slap that was soon to follow.

It never did. Serah backed away, speechless. Curls cascading around her face, she brought her fingertips to her swollen lips. She flexed and unflexed her fingers. Her body trembled.

“I’m sorry, Serah.”

“What just happened?” she whispered.

“I kissed you.”

She narrowed her blue eyes into a penetrating glare. “Don’t fucking do that again.”

You
better
believe
it.
That was one thing he’d never let happen again, no matter how much he wanted it. It was too dangerous. Even if they had a past. To be good at your job, you needed to keep your emotions in check. He couldn’t let her get under his skin.

She blew out a long sigh and brushed a stray curl from her cheek.

Then again, perhaps she was already there… eating away at his heart.

Her body continued to shiver. She wrapped her arms around her body.
God, this was too much.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

He needed to wipe her memory again. But with both the necklace and watch, how easy would it be? Even with the watch, it seemed his charm was fading. She was getting stronger. It was only a matter of time before she remembered everything.

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah, something happened.” With that, she spun around and stormed down the hallway and slammed a door behind her.

It was too late. She already remembered. His mission was doomed.

Something happened, all right. She liked it too much.

Scraping a hand through her hair, she leaned against the door. She could still feel his lips, hot and hard, on hers. His tongue fencing with hers. His body, all corded and sinewy, pressing against her. His scent. How could she have missed that exotic smell before. Like citrus, ginger, and other exotic spices. It was sensual, it was delicious. It was—familiar?

She would have never forgotten such a scent. It was a strong scent, but not overpowering, like some of those colognes men doused themselves with. Not cloying at all. It drove her crazy. She wanted more.

She’d smelled it before.

“Damn it! I’m going crazy.” She’d never seen him before today. But that scent…

Heck, she’d had a long day. She needed sleep. She needed to get his intense dark gaze, his chiseled abs and pecs, and those huge hands out of her thoughts.

Her naughty side licked her lips. Impossible!

She stalked over to her dresser and yanked open her drawer. She pulled out her favorite silk cami and traced her fingertip along the delicate creamy lace scalloping. Would Matthias like it?

Arrgh!
She thrust the offending fabric back into her drawer and grabbed a pair of black cotton shorts and a T-shirt instead. She yanked off her sweater and jeans and quickly changed.

Looking down at the light blue T-shirt, she grimaced.

“What’s cookin’ hot stuff?” was scrawled across her breasts in big, bold, hot-pink sweeps.

She silently cursed Lucy for buying it for her.

Oh well, no one except her could see the silly shirt. She’d make sure of it. She sprinted back to the door and pushed in the button, locking the room against unexpected visitors—especially those of the male variety.

Then again, Matthias could just poof his way in.
Oh
hell, it was useless
.

Then again, she had her grandmother’s necklace and watch now. Maybe they could help keep that putrid demon at bay.

Seriously, you’re going to keep this
Fitness
magazine
cover model from coming in? Where’s your sense of adventure?

“It died nearly a year ago.”

Great
. She was talking to herself again. How would she survive the meeting with Daniel Blackburn tomorrow with him lingering around. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate. She’d end up making a fool of herself. Her chance at exposure was doomed. And the producer hadn’t even stepped into her kitchen yet.

“What the heck am I going to do?” she whispered.

He might have had a job to perform, but she did too. She couldn’t afford to fail, not when the thing she loved most was at stake.

She loved to cook. She’d be damned if she’d let some walking hunk of a demon tell her she was meant for something else.

Wow. Was this what Lucy went through when she found out she was half-succubus? But that’s where she and Lucy were different. Lucy really
was
part sex-demon. Serah was just Serah. Not a demon, not a Puritan or the like. She was just a caterer. End of story.

“There’s only one thing I can do.”

It was simple. Keep him out of the kitchen and away from her senses. It was the only logical solution.
If
he
didn’t like it, boo-frickin’ hoo
.

And she knew he wouldn’t like it one bit.

***

Hot, moist kisses traveled down her neck to the throbbing base of her throat. A tiny mewl pressed through her lips. Hard strong hands roved up and down her body. Mewls turned to moans as she grabbed the hair at Matthias’s nape and pulled him closer.

Matthias?

God Almighty. He had found a way in. And he was torturing her again with that mouth of his.

Oh shut up. You know you like it.

Too much. His fingers lingered along the hem of her flimsy shirt.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he whispered in her ear, his tongue making a long sweep along her lobe.

As if making up her own script, she inched the shirt up. “I need your help.” Lips curved upwards, she pulled the shirt up over her head and threw it against the stone wall. “Please?”