Clyde’s arms were confident and hard as he scooped her up, dragging her to his chest, molding her hips to his as though they’d been made for just such molding. He slanted his mouth over hers, using a forceful but light pressure to coax her lips apart. The slither of his tongue into her mouth was silken and tasted minty fresh.
Warm heat gathered, and not just in her cheeks. Her arms had hung limp in surprise at first—until he slid his tongue into her mouth, drawing it with silken skill across hers in a smooth pass. His hard abdomen, flush with hers, was maddeningly covered by the throw blanket she’d given him, but the heat he emanated caressed her even through her sweater. The space between her legs rubbed against his hard shaft, leaving her deliciously aware of his maleness.
His big maleness.
A groan from one of them sounded low and husky, thrumming in her ears. Her arms, now with a will of their own, circled Clyde’s neck. Her fingers found the crisp hairs at his nape, stroking them with a hand that surely didn’t belong to her.
Her breath came in one single, short pant, then left her body entirely as their mouths fully entwined, meshing with one another’s so completely the kiss became almost as familiar as it was new. Surprise, shock, heat, among other things, assaulted her subconscious. But it sure wasn’t enough of a shock to make her stop him from kissing the living shit out of her. Not even the dogs, shrieking like someone was peeling their skin from their wriggling bodies, made her want to stop. Their barking became muted, blending into the street noise from outside the store.
Clyde pulled away first, a mere inch to whisper, “Shut up. Trust me. Play along.”
Oh. Okay. Like she was all about tearing herself away from him, anyway. “Why?” she whispered back against lips she wasn’t quite ready to part with. Ashamed she wasn’t ready to part with them, but there it was.
“Because I said so.”
Delaney hung from his neck, tilting her head back just enough to watch his lips move. “And that should make me quiver with fear why?”
He didn’t have time to answer, instead, he buried his face in her neck, dropping kisses along the column of it and making her groan with reluctant realization.
The customer chuckled, low and knowing. A chuckle that snapped the kissing slut right out of her. Those hackles were back—loud and proud, racing along her arms, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. “I see you two are busy. I’ll come back another time,” a distinguished voice rumbled.
Clyde lifted his head from the warm spot on her neck, smiling lasciviously at the man, and gave him a nod of thanks. “Verrry busy,” he muttered by way of acknowledgment, then replanted his mouth on hers.
When the tinkle of her door chimed again, Clyde dropped her like she was hot, backing up and smacking into the counter with his hip. He rubbed it while he yelled over his shoulder, “Dogs! Knock it off!”
And they did.
Knock it off.
The motherfuckers had shut right up as if Clyde was the King of Canines and they were all sent here to do nothing but his bidding.
Goddamn it. She was their pack leader.
Which again reminded her—her dogs dug Clyde.
And that reminded her, she’d just been diggin’ on him, too.
Oy. And vey.
Her legs had wobbled when she’d hit the floor and they remained like room temperature butter. So much so, she had to grab for Clyde to steady her, but she snatched her hand back, wiping it on the leg of her jeans. When she found her voice again, it was a weak effort. “What. The. Fuck?”
His cheeks had two bright red spots, but other than that, Clyde the demon remained unruffled. “Demon.”
Her eyes glazed over. “Huh?”
“He was a demon. I thought you knew when an entity arrived, Ms. Gateway to All Things Ghostly.”
She did. Always. Almost. She was just off her game. Clyde was screwing with her mojo was all. But it explained her dogs’ yipping reaction.
“Exactly. Your silence confirms what I thought. You had no idea he was a demon.”
Nope. Not even an inkling. Not with her tongue down Clyde’s throat she hadn’t. Bad medium. Bad. Bad. Which called for some defensive action on her part. Like deny, deny, deny. “Well, it wasn’t like I had time to assess the situation with you all up on me like that for reasons known only to you at the time.” Again, weak, but it was all she had in the way of justification for turning into a total ho. Lawd. She’d clung to a demon—a demon—like he was the last bottle of Saint-John’s-wort on the island. She was rattled—discombobulated—all shook up over a kiss. A demon’s kiss. The bowels of Hell were on their feet and cheering.
Clyde’s brow rose with a sardonic lift. “I’m sure that was it, and there was definitely a reason for that kiss. FYI, that demon was sent here to check up on me. I was just doing my job so he wouldn’t rat me out.”
What did his job have to do with kissing her? Her addled, hormone-driven brain was recovering in slow increments, though her lips still tingled and her heart still had an erratic moment or two. “I thought you were sent here to make me want to end it all.”
His expression said annoyed. “Here we are again.”
“Where are we again?”