She’s watching me, tempting me with her darkness and fleshy perfume. It’s been years since I’ve desired human flesh, tasted the hunger of lust. Damn my father for his blood, and thank the gods for my mother’s. She’s at least able to somewhat control her urges. Having her blood running through my veins gives me hope.
CeCe is going to force me to follow, watch, smell, and consider her, until I figure out what she is before bedding her. And I will bed her. The gods be damned if she forces me to shift.
I turn to make visual contact, but her eyes roam my lair. The scent that wafts off her fuels and stokes the beast within me. Her dark hair picks up what little light I allow up here as she leans into a fork laden with pancakes. It flickers on the bangs hanging across her forehead and down her cheek as I watch her chew, lips moist with syrup. My mouth salivates, not for the food, but the taste of her.
I’ve long given up on romance. I am my father’s son. I’d killed because of past mistakes. I won’t let it get that far ever again.
“Are you sure I can’t pay you for today?”
She slowly turns, a smile on her lips but caution in her eyes. “What if I come back tomorrow? I did think about a part time job for the summer. Unfortunately, that’s all I did, and time ran out. I only have a few weeks left to spare. But working here would be perfect for me to make a few bucks, and give you time to find someone more permanent … unless you already have someone else in mind?”
I would be an idiot not to lie to her. “Sounds like a plan. I paid my last waitress minimum plus tips and breakfast. That work for you?”
Did I just agree to fight this insanity every damn day for weeks—as in several?
“Yep, I can work until the end of July.”
She’s chasing cold eggs around on her plate, probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it.
“What happens in July?”
“Off to college, Michigan State.”
When she sucks on the end of the fork before laying it on her plate, I almost jump her. It’s taking every bit of control I have not to touch her body. If I do, I won’t be able to stop.
I have to clear my throat to say, “In July?”
“Well, not exactly, but there’s a lot to do before I head out.”
CeCe gets up, walks over to the window, and pulls the curtain aside. “I bet the view from your bed is killer at night.”
If you only knew, I think.
As she saunters toward me I can smell desire. Not human desire. A musky, animalistic desire—essential, dark, and demanding. Her blouse comes off first and she tosses it at my feet, steps out of her cutoffs, and stands before me in a triangle of black lace.
Our eyes lock. My spine prickles as it tries to shift. Mouth salivating, heart hammering, jaw tightening, I bend and pick up her clothes. She’s a breath away, waiting, feet parted, lace riding her fingers as she runs them over her hips. I grit my teeth and place the clothes in between her pink breasts framed in rich tanned skin. When my knuckles connect with soft creamy flesh my body tightens and prickles another warning. It’s all I can do to keep from taking her right there.
CeCe
I can hear his heartbeat; I feel the heat of his gaze, the strength behind his touch. Crap! My head is spinning—my head, not the human’s I’m wearing. I never do this. I amuse myself and let them do the dreaming, the what-if’s, and get off on that. I don’t contemplate commitment, relationships, love! I just get my high on. I trade them their lives for a quick fix.
Damn it, sex with this guy is not going to be a quick fix. I want...
I realize I’m grabbing for my clothes before they fall to the floor, and he’s stepping back, shaking his head. What the hell?
Chapter 5
CeCe
I was pissed when I left Gaire’s and headed straight for the sewer. I’d ended up here in Purgatory.
The music seems too loud, pulsing lights are too bright, and smells are cloyingly nauseating.
A group of berserkers in a dark corner of the bar burst out in robust shouts and laughter. The damp animal pelts they wear release fetid sewer smells that thicken the air and claw at my throat. Berserkers’ fists pound wooden tables and splinters fly beside large brass cages where creatures fight and bettors wager.
The succubus I’ve been chatting up on the stool next to me sighs. “And?” she, prompts me to finish my rant.