Gentlemen Prefer Succubi sd-1

Home > Other > Gentlemen Prefer Succubi sd-1 > Page 2
Gentlemen Prefer Succubi sd-1 Page 2

by Jill Myles


  I broke off the conversation starter when the waitress returned to take our orders. To my credit, I didn’t bat an eye when my date ordered a triple-meat cheeseburger with extra mustard and onions. Instead, I concentrated on opening one Sweet’N Low packet and very carefully pouring half into my coffee.

  “Miss?” The waitress looked at me, her pen poised above her notepad.

  “Salad,” I said, trying to remain pleasant.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “You-”

  “Can I just get a damn salad?” I bit off before she could embarrass me further. Was it so hard to believe that a fat girl wanted a salad?

  She scribbled something on her notepad. “I was going to tell you that you have a noodle in your hair.”

  Oh, of course. I picked the offending noodle out and wadded it into a napkin, holding it out to her. “Could you …?”

  When the waitress took it and stomped off, Noah sighed after her. “You realize she’s going to spit in my burger now.”

  “Guess you should be a bit more discerning when it comes to your dates,” I said, wrapping my hands around the coffee cup and blowing on it. “Which brings me to why I’m here.”

  “It’s not for the pleasure of my company?” His voice was low, husky.

  The simple words sent a bolt of desire straight through me again, a rather unnerving feeling in itself, much less when experienced in the middle of a crowded café. My mind dragged itself back into the gutter as he picked up his glass of water, and I found myself fixated on his long, tanned fingers. Those fingers had trailed all over my skin like hot feathers, stroking and brushing against my most sensitive areas. I remember how he’d looked into my eyes with his deep blues as he’d stroked at my clit. I had come against his fingers so hard that I’d screamed.

  A flush crept over my entire body.

  “Um.” I fanned myself with my hand. What were we talking about again? Oh, yes. “That’s just the thing. I don’t remember the pleasure of your company. And seeing as how I woke up in a Dumpster sans pantyhose-or panties-I think enlightening me would be great.” I did my best to sip my coffee with a bland expression on my face. Must not be overwhelmed by his sexy voice. Or those lips. Or those broad, yummy shoulders.

  Noah leaned in close, smiling. “So does this mean you’re not wearing any panties right now?”

  I broke out in a nervous sweat. “Just answer the question.”

  He leaned back and his hand went to his thick blond hair, ruffling it. “Well, ah. We met at the hotel bar. You’d been there all night from the look of things, and I offered to call you a cab. The next thing I knew, you were climbing into my lap. I took it as an invitation-a very nice one, if I do say so.” He looked over at me, and I could have sworn his eyes had a hint of blue to them. “You can do really amazing things with your mouth.”

  I spat coffee all over the table. Good lord, that didn’t sound like me at all.

  He took a sip of his own coffee, unbothered by my strangled noises. “You mentioned a disappointment at work just before … you know.” Pale eyes gleamed as he scanned my appearance. “Something about getting passed over for a promotion? Does that ring a bell?”

  I’d told him about that? “Exhibit coordinator at the museum. Much better than a lowly docent.”

  “A what?”

  “A docent.” No one ever knew what a docent was. “We give tours and point out the paintings.”

  “Ah.” He paused, sipping his coffee. “Exhibit coordinator is much better, then?”

  Much better was putting it mildly. I’d finally get to work with the ancient artifacts, bringing me a step closer to my real love, archaeology. I’d had my eye on the exhibit coordinator job since I first began as an intern at the New City Museum of Art. I’d worked my butt off for the last two years, but when it came down to it, the job had been given to someone with fewer degrees and bigger boobs. It was enough to drive anyone to drink, even a prude like me.

  “I was upset.” I shrugged, trying not to show how much it bothered me, even as I blinked back frustrated tears. “I went out for a few drinks at Escapes.” Escapes was a lousy dive on the far end of town from my place, but the cheese fries were good.

  “Isn’t that in the south part of the city?”

  I drank my coffee, hoping it would quell the growling of my stomach. “It is.”

  “So what are you doing here in downtown now?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.” I blew on my coffee, trying to distract myself from looking into his beautiful eyes like some lovesick fool. Again. “To be honest,” I said, “it’s all a blur after the mugging.” A big, sex-filled blur.

  Funny, I hadn’t even remembered the mugging until a few moments ago.

  “Mugging?”

  “Yeah.” I shot a glance over at him. He was watching my mouth with a strange fixation, as if he’d remembered all the things that drunken-slut me had done to him with my “talented” mouth. I blushed and recrossed my legs. Man, it was warm in here.

  “Weirdest thing,” I said, trying not to reach across the table and do naughty things to him. “I remember this guy grabbing me on the way out of Escapes and grabbing my purse. Only I didn’t let go of it.”

  I didn’t want to add the because I was drunk part. “I seem to recall an alley, and”-I rubbed the side of my neck-“I think he bit me. I don’t remember much after that, except passing out in the back of a cab and sharing a few drinks with you.” The memory of the biting-mugging bothered me. My fingers touched my neck again, and I had to swallow hard.

  The sexy, reach-across-the-table-and-fuck-me look was gone from his face. In fact, he looked rather green. “Did you say you were bitten?”

  I nodded, looking mournfully down at my empty coffee mug. Noah wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to eat me anymore. No coffee, and the waitress was probably slipping a hair or two in my salad. “Like I said, it’s all pretty much a haze.”

  Noah reached over the table and grabbed my hand in his. “Jackie, this is very important. What was he wearing?”

  I tried to jerk my hand from his and found that a rather useless action. “Let go of me or I’m going to start screaming.”

  “What was he wearing?” His voice was deadly low.

  I rolled my eyes, trying to seem casual. “A black trench coat, I think. In August-go figure. Can I have my hand back now?”

  Noah paled and released my hand at once. It was almost amusing-except he looked like he’d just been told he was about to be a father. “Bloody hell.”

  “Problem?” I inquired, tilting my head. “I don’t see why this guy’s coat is so important. I mean, I was the one molested by him and you don’t see me freaking out.” I paused. “Which, come to think of it, is kinda weird in itself.”

  “He bit you, Jackie. He drained some of your blood and brought you to this side of town to throw off your trail.” Noah rubbed a hand down his face. “And to put you right in my path. Bloody, bloody hell.” His mouth set in a grim line, he looked back at me. “Tell me about the last day you remember. Your timeline. Everything you did.”

  “Look, you’re starting to weird me out,” I said. As much as I wanted to find out what had really gone down, spending more time with my one-night stand was proving to be a huge mistake. “So while it’s been swell, I really must be going …”

  His hand clamped over mine again. “You’re staying.”

  Every fiber of my being protested that notion, yet I found that I could not disobey him. Weirdest thing. “Right. I’m staying.”

  I sat.

  Noah’s hand patted mine again. “I think we have a real problem on our hands.”

  “And why is that?”

  He leaned in close. I leaned closer, too, my breasts pressing against the countertop and my body tingling with excitement. Would he lick the shell of my ear? Would I burst into an instant orgasm if he did?

  “I think you died,” he whispered.

  Talk about killing the mood.

  CHAPTER THREE
/>   “Not you too?” I slammed up from the booth, tipping over coffee cups and causing several people to turn around. I didn’t care-all of my dislike was focused squarely on Noah. “I’ve had enough of this. Go to hell!”

  Did everyone around here have some sort of sick obsession with death?

  Noah stood too, and his strong hand clamped my upper arm. “You’ll sit down, and you’ll be quiet.” His voice remained low and calm.

  To my surprise, I did just that, slouching back down in my seat and blinking at him. Noah sat as well, regarding me quietly as the waitress hurried over and cleaned up the spilled coffee. A few silent moments later, our cups were refilled and we were alone again. “Now sit and drink,” he commanded.

  “Why is it that whenever you say something, I feel like I have to obey you?” I picked up my mug, bewildered by my own actions.

  He sighed. “I was afraid of that. Are you going to sit and listen to what I have to say, or do I have to force you to remain in place?”

  I didn’t suppose that it mattered either way, so I gave him a fake smile. “I’m all ears. Go ahead.” Noah was the second person who thought I had died. And skeptic though I was, the hairs on the back of my neck were starting to prickle.

  He raked a hand through his hair, looking rather distressed-until the waitress dropped his double cheeseburger in front of him. Then he just looked pleased.

  My salad looked unexciting, but at least it wouldn’t gravitate immediately to my hips. I took my fork and began picking out cucumber chunks and moving them to the side of my plate as I waited for him to begin speaking again.

  “You’re not taking this seriously enough,” Noah began, between bites of his extremely greasy, extremely sloppy hamburger. It amazed me that he managed not to get any on his shirt, but remained neat and tidy. His tongue darted out to clean his lips, and I salivated.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Annoyed at myself, I tossed a napkin at him. “It’s hard to take a man seriously when he’s got mustard dripping down his chin,” I lied.

  I wanted to lick his lips for him.

  Noah took the napkin and swished at his chin. “Sorry.” He put the burger down and gave me a grave look. “I’m going to explain, and I don’t want you to interrupt until I’m done.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing would come out. Crap! Another one of his mind-control techniques. What was it with this guy? And why wasn’t I scared of a man who could force me to do whatever he wanted?

  Actually, it turned me on. I crossed my legs again, hoping I’d hit that magic spot where the incessant pulsing would vanish.

  It might be the whole utterly gorgeous thing he had going on. I’d never seen a better-looking man than him, like ever. Brad Pitt held nothing to this guy. His hair was dark blond, thick and curly. Longish, too-it scraped the collar of his well-made starched shirt. High cheekbones graced his face, accentuated by a perfect nose and chiseled mouth. He looked like he was heading to a business meeting in slacks and a pressed white shirt, but without the tie. Broad shoulders and big hands. Big everything. I flushed and shifted in my seat again.

  He was almost too pretty for a man, all chiseled lines and aquiline features, topped off by those beautiful silvery eyes. When they were blue, like before, they had been stunning. Did he have colored contacts?

  “You’re quiet.”

  I stopped studying him through my thick glasses and gave him an annoyed look. When he merely blinked at me, I pointed at my mouth.

  “Oh, right. Sorry, I’m a bit new to the whole ‘controlling’ thing. See … I’m …” He paused, thinking hard and staring at me like I was the enemy. “This is a bit difficult for me to explain.” He rolled up his sleeve, then extended his arm toward me. A tiny set of archaic symbols was tattooed on his wrist. It didn’t resemble anything I’d ever seen before, and I gave him a blank stare.

  “Right. You don’t know what that is. I forgot how ignorant modern society is.”

  What was he talking about?

  He pointed at his wrist, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening in. “This is a symbol from the angelic alphabet.” When I continued to quirk an eyebrow at him, he added, “I’m an angel.”

  Apparently I could still snort in disbelief.

  “I’m serious,” he protested. “You may not believe me, but that’s not important right now. The point is, I’m one of the fallen-the Serim-and why I’m here is not that important. It’s what happened between us that’s important.”

  What a shame, I thought as I stared up at him with longing. Gorgeous and totally loony. I was dying to retort, but all I could do was chew my salad.

  He looked rather tormented by my skepticism, and I began to feel bad. I waved my fork for him to continue.

  “The problem is … I think you were bitten by a vampire before we met.”

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. Sex with an angel, now this.

  “See, vampires are related to the Serim, in a fashion, but their curse is different. They crave the blood, a darker, deeper hunger than that of the Serim, who simply crave the flesh. They traded for that, long ago.”

  I was almost done with my salad and stole a french fry off his plate. Noah was still talking, and I forced myself to listen.

  “… a vampire’s bite is an unnatural thing,” he was saying. “It does something to the mind of the victim-it clouds the mind so that memories and inhibitions are fogged. It also fills the victim with intense desire and longing for the next few hours. Those who are heavily drained are the most intensely affected, before they drop dead a few hours later. Like you.”

  I paused, another purloined fry midway to my mouth. A feeling of dread slid into my stomach, and the fries no longer looked appetizing. My disbelief had boiled away, leaving only an uncomfortable feeling prickling at the back of my neck. It made sense-the clouded memory, the sexual demon I had been instead of my normal nerdy, inhibited self.

  But that didn’t explain why I had awakened in a Dumpster. I picked another piece of garbage out of my hair, pointing at it.

  “I don’t know why you were in the garbage. Moreover, I don’t know why you were fed on to the point of sexual madness.”

  I blushed at his frankness. My glasses were sliding off the end of my nose and I shoved them back up violently. Right, sexual madness. Sounds just like me.

  “Most vampires take only a little from their victims. Think of it as an aphrodisiac, but the memory is clouded just enough so that the victim can’t remember the evening. You, however, were drained to the point of insatiability, and, er, that’s when I met you.”

  Oh boy, here we go.

  Noah raked his fingers through his hair again, an obvious nervous habit. “The Serim feed off the desire of others. It was time for me to feed, and you were willing-very willing.” His eyes flickered blue again.

  I put my napkin down, feeling sick.

  “And I think that because of what happened between us, you got up later, maybe to answer the call of your vampire master. He finished the job, then left you in the Dumpster. And since you’ve awakened, I can only assume one thing, given the … nature of your desires.” His silver eyes searched my face, and I averted my gaze. I couldn’t look him in the face.

  “You’ve risen again as a succubus.”

  What? That was the best he could come up with? He’d actually had me going there for a while. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared.

  “I’m serious,” he said, defending himself. “You won’t notice anything at first, but you’ll see some changes start to happen, and I don’t want you to be alarmed.”

  Alarmed?

  All I wanted was to get out of there.

  “You’re not saying anything. What do you think?”

  I straightened my glasses and opened my mouth to speak, testing out my vocal cords by clearing my throat. That worked. He must be done, then. “What do I think? I think you’re crazy, that’s what I think.”

  He looked disappointed, and I felt almos
t like I’d just kicked a puppy. “You don’t believe me,” he said.

  “Let me get this straight. You’ve just told me that I was bitten by a vampire, had sex with an angel, then I died, but I’ve risen again as a succubus. And you’re wondering why I don’t believe you?”

  “I see your point.”

  “Darn right. What is a succubus, anyway?” I had my suspicions, but I wanted to hear him say it.

  “An immortal creature that feeds off sexual desire. The object of sexual fantasy.” He sighed. “I’m afraid you’re one of us now.”

  I waved a hand, cutting him off. “Save it for the chicks in the bar. I’m out of here.” I stood up again, hoping that he wouldn’t stop me.

  He didn’t. I was out of my seat and nearly to the door when he spoke again. “Wait. Before you go …”

  I felt my feet slide to an involuntary halt and I turned. “What? What now?”

  He merely held a business card out to me. “Put this in your purse. If you notice anything odd going on, give me a call. I can help you with everything that’s going to happen. Believe me.”

  My fingers stretched out and took the card of their own accord and I put it into my purse, just as he’d directed me. “I wouldn’t hold your breath if I were you.”

  “Just call me if you need help, okay? And don’t call the police. They’ll just make a mess of things.”

  Real comforting words. I stomped out of the diner without a backward glance.

  The streets were crowded with pedestrians, the skies bright with midday sunshine, and the wind crisp and biting. My head immediately began to feel clearer now that I was out of Noah’s vicinity.

  I raised a hand in the air and hailed a taxi. I just wanted to go home and take a nice long shower and forget that this experience had ever happened. I’d get into my pajamas, curl up in bed, and not think about sexy hot men that I’d slept with-or their big packages.

 

‹ Prev