“Don’t you have some poor souls to damn to hell or something?” I ducked down to see if someone was in the other stall before heading to the door. Clicking the main door’s lock into place, I spun around only to find Lucifer inches from me. How’d he get so close so quickly?
“Oh, bathroom sex, this will be fun,” Lucifer commented with a chuckle, earning himself a glare from me. “I don’t damn souls, you know that. Humans damn themselves, I simply punish the wicked.” He smirked, caging me against the door. “All kinds of wicked. I know for a fact you have been a very naughty girl.” Lucifer licked his lips, his eyes making a cursory path down my body. My skin heated from where his gaze roamed, sending lightning pulses to my clit.
Tired of being permanently turned on with no relief, I scowled up at him. Lucifer had more than a foot on my height, and even with my heels, my eyes only reached his collarbone which made trying to be intimidating a bit tricky.
“Instead of being a cosmic-sized tease, why don’t you do your job and give me a break?” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to put some distance between the two of us.
“Where’s the fun in that?” his voice lowered, and his dreamy brown eyes flicked down before meeting mine once more. More than any of the others, Lucifer had always been harder to keep my sex drive under control around, probably because he was, you know, evil. Or supposed to be. So far, he just liked to drive me into a lust-crazed haze while I served beer to the undeserving populous. Damn sadist.
“Job security, of course.” My voice came out more breathless than I had intended, and I cleared my throat, my shoulders rolling back. “I pretend to be this all-powerful psychic while you get to get your rocks off fucking with unsuspecting humans. That was the deal, remember? Or are you tired of playing with us already?”
His grin broadened, and if I hadn’t already soaked my panties, he’d have just destroyed them. Then he turned it up a notch as he leaned in close. “I’ll never be tired of playing with you.” His mouth skimmed mine as he spoke, the buzzing sensation not even close to enough friction to tide me over.
I was dangerously close to saying fuck it and let him watch me, anything to relieve some of the tension in my clit. There had to be a first time for everything, right?
As luck would have it, before I could inch my finger into my panties, the door banged loudly behind me. Jerking away from him, I clicked the lock and opened the door to see a long line of pissed-off women waiting.
Face flushing, I coughed nervously. “Uh sorry, shy bladder.” I moved past the angry mob and back toward the bar which had become way more crowded since I’d left. My co-bartender, Terry, a self-proclaimed cowboy who refused to wear anything but boots to work, shot daggers my way.
Mouthing an apology, I jumped back behind the bar and began to help him with the sudden rush. I was thankful for it because it kept my mind off my raging libido. Not that it would help with the Devil looking deliciously tempting just inches away. Not being able to touch the angels didn’t mean they couldn’t torture me in their own way.
Ignoring someone talking in your ear every five seconds was hard. Especially when you weren’t trying to look like the crazy person most people thought you were.
They made plenty of situations awkward for me. Not for them, though, because they didn’t give a crap. They’re both non-corporeal and invisible which meant they could do whatever the fuck they wanted, and I just had to deal with it.
Still, having them around had their upsides… usually.
“So, a house rum and coke? Coming right up,” I said, moving to grab a glass and as my fingers closed around it, Lucifer’s hand touched my waist, startling me. The glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor behind the bar, and as I stared at it, I nearly blew a gasket. That was the third fucking glass tonight.
Not caring who was watching, I spun on my heel and growled, “Do you mind?” I pointed at the glass. “This is your fault.”
Chuckling in his devilishly handsome way, Lucifer backed off a few feet and sat down on the stool in the corner I’d specifically set out for him. “Sorry, love. I just can’t help myself.” He waggled his dark eyebrows. “Can’t blame a Devil for trying.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the waiting crowd only to be greeted with curious stares. Mouth gaping, I tried to find the words to explain, but good ol’ Terry was there in a split second to save the day.
“Don’t mind Jane, ya’ll. Being psychic makes her seem like a hog out of its pen sometimes.” Like usual, Terry’s Southern accent made the customers settle, and as they started returning to their shots and conversations, he clapped his hand on my shoulder and flashed a lopsided grin at the still curious. “Price of being gifted.”
“More like cursed,” I muttered under my breath before giving the crowd a small smile. Then I tapped my temple with one finger. “Don’t worry, folks. My hog is back in its barn. You can go back to drinking your life away.”
Terry clapped his hand on my shoulder again, a bit harder this time in warning before going back to his side of the bar. I didn’t really know if Terry believed I was psychic or not, but he played it up for the crowd like we all did. My so-called psychic abilities brought in people who wouldn’t otherwise be caught dead in the place. Often people with more money than sense, which also meant more money for all of us. So, Terry, like most of the others had made a capitalistic decision. Play up the charade.
“Sorry about that,” I said, sliding the newly made rum and coke across the bar to the guy who had ordered it just before my little mishap. He was in his mid-thirties, buzzed head, and had his eyes too focused on the other man in front of him to pay attention to me or the drink he’d ordered. He also wasn’t fooling anyone into thinking he was just there for a good time. He had cop written all over him.
“Have you seen this girl?” The cop playing undercover, badly I might add, held a picture up to one of our regulars. Dan, I wanted to say his name was, but it could have been Fred for all I knew. Good with names, I’m not.
“No way.” Dan/Fred shook his head before swigging from his beer bottle. His eyes were glazed over but deliberately not looking at the cop.
I didn’t have to turn around to know Lucifer was behind me again. I could feel his presence warm against my back causing a not so unpleasant feeling of pleasure to ripple down my spine.
“He’s lying,” the Devil whispered into my ear, his voice a soft coo that tickled all my senses and made me want to lean back into him. That alone would have made it take me a second to realize what he’d said, but honestly, it was really his fingers dancing down the side of my body, tempting, teasing.
“Are you sure?” I said, using the words to give me time to pull away and collect my thoughts. Honestly, I needn’t have asked. The king of lies always knew.
“Yes,” he said, appearing on the bar between us, pointing down at the guy though no one else could see or hear him. He could be dancing the cha-cha on the bar in nothing but a tutu, and no one would bat an eye. “It’s written all over his sallow face.”
“Okay.” I set down the glass I’d just filled in front of its owner and moved toward the cop. Even in heels, the bar top barely reached below my chest. If I didn’t wear them, the girls bounced off the bar all day, and trust me, that was not a pretty picture.
“Hey, Dan.” I batted my eyelashes at him, but the moment he saw me, he choked on the beer he was drinking, and his face paled. Yeah, I get that reaction a lot.
“Hey, J-Jane.” He coughed and cleared his throat, his eyes becoming skittish. “What’s up?”
I guess I did get his name right. Go me!
Giving him my best, no-nonsense look, I placed my elbow on the bar top before propping my chin on it. “You know what’s up, Dan. Or do you want me to tell this nice police officer?” I grinned and slid a sly look at the cop who looked startled by my presence.