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In the Company of Witches

Page 23

   



“The protections on my house include a screen that masks the presence of my demons, so it doesn’t attract that filth, though if they set one foot across the line, I’d happily stake them out in the yard and let fire ants eat their flesh.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.” He gazed at her. “I’m sorry that no one listened to your father, Raina. He didn’t get to the right people. I would have helped him.”
“Thank you. I’d like to believe you, so I will.” She inclined her head, took a breath. “I was badly treated by Elceus. Not the entire male gender. And the sexual things…It wasn’t like rape, though I would rather have starved than feed off him or his carrion. I feed off of sexual energy, so the sex act itself has different connotations for me.”
He didn’t entirely agree with that assessment, given that she’d suppressed her natural submissive desires because of her experiences at the demon’s hands, and it was obvious she harbored a great deal of trepidation about the emotional vulnerability of sex, but he held the thought for now, letting her continue unimpeded.
“I don’t paint every zebra with the same stripes.” Her eyes sparked. “Plus, regardless of spots, stripes or polka dots, when it comes to a fight, I prefer rage to fear.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Okay, this hand starts the real game.” At his agreeable nod, she started dealing out the cards. It was obvious she wanted to leave the topic behind, so he was surprised when she spoke again, though her gaze didn’t leave her hand of cards. “I respect men of noble character, just as I have nothing but disgust for those who lack it.”
“Do I dare ask what category I fall into?”
“Does my opinion count?”
He thought that over for a few minutes. “Ultimately, no. But I am curious.”
“Is that your roundabout way of saying it does matter?” That smile played around her lips.
“I don’t say anything roundabout. Wiles and ruses are your area, not mine.”
“Honesty actually has a great value in my profession, because the ones without artifice, who are genuinely enthusiastic and caring about their clients, earn the most. But I do think my opinion matters to you.”
“All right. It matters.” But his tone was so bland, she sniffed.
“Fine. You have a strong code of behavior. You gave me an opportunity with Isaac, rather than summarily killing him, and you’ve honored the terms of our agreement about that. You’ve been fair. You’re brutally honest, and there’s merit to that. So you’re a man of character. Whether that character proves good or bad in the end, all depends.”
He inclined his head, laid down his cards. “Straight.”
She pursed her lips, laid down an ace-high flush. “You lose.” Letting her gaze rove over him, she paused, deliberated on her choices. “Shirt, please.”
Raina kept the faintly amused expression on her lips, but her blood heated as he carelessly slipped the buttons and shrugged out of it, revealing a lot of broad shoulder and gleaming muscle. She lingered on his chest. In the dark hours of the morning, she’d let her fingers trail down that narrowing path of hair, over his muscled abdomen, to the impressive cock.
With the shirt pushed off his shoulders, he unbuttoned the cuffs. It was an appealing look that drew her gaze to the flexing curved lines of his upper arms and chest, a perfect work of carnal art. The man was mouthwatering, no other word for it.
A hard bump, muttered curse and the alarming rattle of china lifted her gaze to the library door. Aiden was bringing in her afternoon tea. He’d taken a look at Mikhael’s bared upper body and hit the protruding pocket door with his knee, nearly upsetting the tray. Aiden had a strong appreciation for the male form.
Directing him to set the tea down on a side table, she saw he’d brought Mikhael a selection: a Heineken, a bottled water and a decanter of whiskey. As well as a small bowl of Hershey’s cherry chocolate kisses for her. She did love her staff.
Even so, she gave the incubi a stern glance. “Thank you, Aiden. If I have need of anything from anyone, I’ll call. Close the doors after you.”
He’d obviously figured out what game they were playing, so they’d just ensured there would be a lot of casual wandering through the side garden this afternoon, aka skulking, to report who was winning. In a house all about sex, nothing was really private in that regard.
As Aiden left, she returned to her previous occupation—enjoying the display of male virility in front of her. Only now she could enjoy it with a cherry chocolate melting on her tongue and a sip of chamomile tea.
Mikhael regarded her with amusement. “You saw all of me last night. I wouldn’t expect such interest today, especially from one as worldly as yourself.”
“I see.” Rolling up the red tinfoil ball with its little ribbon tab, she sent it to his side of the table with a flick. “Pot calling the kettle black. I wasn’t the one who proposed strip poker.” Amusement fluttered through her as Five’s “When the Lights Go Out” was the next music choice on his player. He was the most unexpected male.
He inclined his head, an almost courtly gesture. “My apologies. I assumed females aren’t as openly avid in that regard as males.”
“Then you were definitely born in a different century, Mikhael. Women are now free to demonstrate as much depravity, decadence and lust as men.”
“Good to know.”
Mikhael actually had experienced forward women. Drunk, trashy or manipulative females mostly using sex for reasons that weren’t about pleasure. She was looking at him as if she wanted to start licking and devouring him like that chocolate. Her interest was clean, reciprocal lust, with a hungry emotional under layer that captured him.
“We could just skip the game,” he offered.
“Oh no. I’m going to beat you fair and square. The stakes are too tempting. Women might feel lust, but we have more self-control.”
“I could test that theory.”
Raina bet he could shatter it beyond repair. Women had more self-control only because their hearts were often way too involved in their lust. She was dangerously interested in the man himself, when she should keep tunnel vision on those rippling muscles and the very nice-sized package under his jeans.
He won the next hand. Sitting back, he gave her his own long, raking appraisal. “Take off your bra.”
“I haven’t taken off my shirt.”
“I get to determine the order, right?”
Shrugging, she wriggled out of it under the cashmere. As she thrust out her breasts to reach behind her and unhook the bra, his heated regard was intense. The cling of the silken yarn delineated her nipples in a way she knew was even more provocative than seeing her naked. She covered her own precarious reaction to that by hanging the lacy bra on her chair arm, then dealt the next hand. When he won that one, he wanted her panties.
“Hand them to me. You’re not very good at this game, Raina.”
She merely lifted a brow, rose. When she did, because of his long legs stretched out next to the table, she was straddling his crossed ankles. Pivoting, she did a shimmy to pull her snug tailored skirt up, hooked the panties and worked them down in a smooth motion, giving him an extremely brief glimpse of her ass and what lay between her thighs. When she turned back around, he was eye level with her breasts. It reminded her of his mouth there, suckling her, but she knew how to play this game. She liked playing it with him, noting the fire in his dark gaze, and the tighter fit of his jeans. Putting the swatch of silk in his hands, she brushed her fingers across his palm. Stepping back, she settled in her chair, crossing her ankles and sliding her legs to a demure ladylike angle as she picked up the deck.
He lifted the panties to his lips, inhaled her arousal, then draped them over his thigh for safekeeping. He also won the next hand.
“Open the top two buttons of your shirt. Only those two.”
He was diabolical. If he’d had her pull off her shirt, it would be like stripping for the bath. Erotic, yes, doing it in front of him, but he was like a master pastry chef, knowing exactly how to stretch things out, making them thinner and thinner, stopping just short of breakage.
“You’re good at this.” She gave him his due. “Most men aren’t.”
“I have selfish motives. The more I arouse you, the more you release that sex demon scent of yours. Your skin is flushed; your pulse is rabbiting. It makes me hard as a fucking rock, knowing I can get you this hot.”
When his gaze passed over her, it was like they were already in bed, his hands on her. He made her want to take him to bed, take him in her bed, over and over. “I could lift you up against the wall right now,” he continued. “Push up your skirt and thrust into you without any interference. Your nipples are erect, and I’d feel that, no padding to interfere. I’d put your feet on the floor but keep my hand between your legs, my fingers inside you while I pinned you to the wall by the throat. Then I’d suckle your nipples through the cloth until the fabric was wet, and they’d stand out even more than they are now.”
She tilted her head so another of her dark curls loosened from its barrette, sliding along her cheek. “This is cashmere. You’d owe me a dry-cleaning bill.”
“I’d gladly pay it. Because when it was all over, I’d mark you and your pretty clothes with something other than my mouth.”
HE THOUGHT HE ALMOST HAD HER THEN, HAD PUSHED her to the point she’d set aside the cards and let him slam her against the bookshelf as he’d described. Though he saw a fine tremor in her hand, and that scent grew to a maddening musk, she simply dealt another hand and gave him her mysterious smile, though he noted it was tight at the corners.
As they continued to play, her staff found excuses to keep wandering through the outside garden. They didn’t linger too obviously, because if they did, her eyes would shift to them and they would disappear. But not fast enough.
After she’d opened those top two buttons, Luke was the next one to wander down the garden path to get the latest intel on their game. Mikhael cut his gaze toward him before Raina could do it. Whatever Luke saw in his face made the incubus practically vanish into thin air. It quelled any casual wanderers for a good while, with no repeat business from the males, his message delivered loud and clear.