Demons of Desire (16 page)

“We’re going to Maxwell’s to celebrate,” Jason said, giving me a warm smile. “Join us?”

“No thanks.” I appreciated his offer, but I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was go back to Darci’s and sleep, but my deadline from Irix was long overdue. No rest for the wicked. I planned to change clothes and head back to Bliss, where I’d hopefully not doze off while watching people have sex. With some luck, I’d have enough energy by the time Irix tracked me down to buy myself another day or two.

16

L
uck is clearly not my friend. No sooner had Jordan dropped me off at Darci’s apartment than there was a knock at the door. Not only did I refuse to answer it, but I frantically dove behind a chair and covered my head with a cushion from the sofa. Darci had her key, and I didn’t expect her home from Gavin’s until morning. It sure as heck wasn’t the pizza delivery guy at the door.

“Amber, I know you’re in there. Answer the damned door.”

Nope. I cowered under the cushion and held my breath. He sounded really pissed, as if he knew that I’d failed yet again. A pissed Irix was a sexy Irix, and my willpower was shot to hell as far as he was concerned. I was not answering that door.

I heard a faint sigh, then some muttering about angels and stupid elf girls. Then I heard the click of the deadbolt and the whisper of a door opening.

Shit. Oh, shit. Damned demons and their supernatural lock–picking abilities. I should have taken other precautions — asked Jordan and her coven for a can of demon repellant or something.

The floor creaked over by the kitchen. I held absolutely still, praying the huge, ugly second–hand chair was concealing me from view. Footsteps by the bedroom. Two more doors open and shut, and the sound of the closet door opening. The footsteps came closer, and I heard him do a quick tour of the room. And then, like a miracle, I heard the front door open and close. The deadbolt secured. I let out a careful breath and waited.

Mississippi one, Mississippi two
. One whole minute I counted out in my head. Demons were notoriously impatient. There was no way one of them would have stood motionless in an apartment for that long. He was gone. But just in case, I lowered the sofa cushion to the floor and peeked around the edge of the purple chair.

And looked right into a set of golden eyes. Furious golden eyes.

The scream I let out could have woken the dead. It didn’t phase Irix one bit. As I tried to scramble backwards, his hand shot out to grab my arm, and he dragged me from behind the chair. Literally dragged. I was going to have some serious rug burn from this encounter — if I survived, that is.

“Ow. Stop. You’re bruising my arm.”

I should have held my breath. Irix’s grip tightened, and he lifted me up, tossing me onto the sofa like a bag of groceries. I bounced and sprawled in a very unladylike posture while he loomed over me, caging me in with his arms.

“I will do far more than bruise you, half–breed. When I tell you to meet me somewhere, you will be there promptly. When I call or text, you are to immediately respond.”

When had he called? Oh shit — I’d turned my phone off at Bliss and had forgotten to turn it back on. Not that he gave me the slightest chance to explain.

“You are to
answer
me when I call. I won’t have you ignoring me while I race all over the damned city looking for you. You are to do as I say without hesitation, without question. Do you understand?”

Having him so close was wrecking my concentration, but his fury over what had been a simple mistake, plus the ridiculous demands for obedience cut through the fog of desire.

“Should I be wearing a French maid costume and crawl around on the floor after you, too?”

I was positive the sarcasm conveyed, but the unholy light in his eyes seemed to indicate he thought I was making a valid suggestion. He leaned closer, and one hand left the sofa for my pants. My breath lodged in my throat at the thought of what he might do, but instead of popping the snap at the waistband, he dug into my pocket and pulled out my phone.

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.”

“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.”