Accidentally Demonic

by Dakota Cassidy

  His anger sent a wave of shivers from the tips of her heeled toes to the top of her teased head.

  Rawr.

  While momentarily she thought about how insane provoking him and being turned on by it was, she also wasn’t able to stop herself from wondering what it would be like if he ate her up like an ice cream sundae.

  “You know,” she drawled, slow, sensuous, accentuating each word, “you’re spankin’ hot when you’re angry.”

  His jaw lifted, revealing the sharp edge to it—a hard line of flesh she wanted to nip at. “You know, you’re not when you’re behaving like you’re vying for the top spot in a ‘Paranormals Gone Wild’ video.”

  The chuckle she let go came from deep within while her finger traced a line down the lean length of his cheek. “I don’t think you mean that.” She followed her bold statement with a flutter of her overly mascara’d eyelashes, fleetingly grateful they didn’t stick together.

  His teeth, white and clenched, allowed little room for words, but the words that followed were succinct and punctuated with an angry growl. “I think you’d be mistaken.”

  Even before the words were out of her mouth, she knew she sounded like some kind of schizophrenic out on a day pass, but it didn’t stop her. “I think you think I’m just as hot as I think you are.”

  If he was at all surprised by her blatant display, it didn’t show. The cocky look he gave her was cool and chock full of confidence. “I think you need to give a great deal of thought to the kind of fire you’re playing with before you open your mouth again, Casey.”

  “Oh, Clay. I think you’re full of shit,” she replied with just as much confidence, drawing her calf along his tightly muscled ass, reveling in the silk of his trousers against her naked leg.

  He reached a hand around his back, clamping it onto her leg to keep it still. “I think you’re going to be in deep shit if you keep this up.” Yet that wasn’t what the southerly parts of his body were saying, but whatever.

  “Is this the part where I should be scared?”

  “This is it.”

  “Surely you know me better than that.” Her statement whizzed from between her lips before she could even comprehend how utterly ludicrous it was to ask such a thing of a man she’d known but a few days.

  “But I don’t know you at all, Casey.”

  Point. Though, right here, right now, she felt like she knew him. Like he knew her. In fact, it was a familiarity she experienced in her very core.

  And that was some jacked-up shit.

  Yet, that was when her breathing became shallow, and the continuation of his “you’ve been a bad girl” speech became nothing more than a garble of slo-mo words from Clay’s lips.

  The tight bra she wore grew tighter when her breasts pressed against Clay’s chest. The heat between her thighs pulsed with a raging request to be sated. His lips moving enticed her until she could no longer bear to not have them on hers.

  With a thrust of her hips, she captured him by wrapping her thigh more firmly around his waist, relishing the grunt of surprise he gave, the sculpted press of his torso to hers.

  Casey’s lips moved in, hovering over Clay’s for but a second before capturing them, consuming them, locking them to hers. Her arms wound around his neck, her nostrils inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne, her tongue slid into his mouth, cool and silken, seeking, tasting.

  For all his talk about not knowing her, and all the stank she’d be in if she kept up her cat-and-mouse shtick, reluctant wasn’t a word she’d apply to his lips. Lips that took total and full control, gliding over hers, demanding she submit. Clay’s arms curled around her, dragging her closer, pulling her flush to him. His hand splayed over her spine, bending her lower body to meld with his. His deliciously long fingers first cupped her jaw, tracing a pattern of exquisite circles before settling in her hair, gripping a handful of it, drawing her deeper into the kiss.

  Their lips tangled, their tongues dueled, her eyes rolled to the back of her head from the exquisite stroke of his mouth. His hands were infuriating and exciting all at once, running along her ribs, yet skirting the undersides of her breasts.

  A hot groan of longing whistled from her lips when he pulled her head back, exposing her throat, curling his large hand around it to caress the sensitive flesh with his thumb. Wet heat gathered between her thighs, making her lift her hips, seeking the hard pressure of his lower body against hers.

  She couldn’t get close enough to him, couldn’t get enough of his lips consuming hers. Images of Clay naked, driving into her with hard abandon, made her squirm closer.

  With every fiber in her body she wanted to rake her fingers down his naked back, dig them into his flesh as they both screamed for release.

  “Casey. Louise. Schwartz!”

  That scream. The one where her sister used her full given name, the one that had just emitted from lips Casey knew when she opened her eyes would be puckered, was not the scream she’d just been so desperately hoping for.

  The release of their mouths resounded with a suctioning slurp throughout the corridor, making Casey cringe.

  Frozen in place like two dieters caught hitting the fried chicken wings at Hungry Hal’s All U Can Eat, neither of them moved.

  Wanda’s eyes pinned them to the wall, her ramrod-straight posture never faltered when she stomped toward them. “You know what, Miss? I’ve had just about enough of you tonight. First, I can’t find you anywhere. Then, I find you on a pole—a stripper’s pole, Casey, working it like you were a hired hootch earning her keep at a virgin’s convention! And to top everything else off, your charges, the ones you ditched us with for greener pastures, were better behaved than you!”

  Clay held a hand up to thwart Wanda’s tirade. “Wanda—”

  But her finger under his nose was faster. “Do. Not.” She clamped her fingers together to signify he should shut up.

  Casey placed a hand on his arm to keep him from defending her, and he apparently sensed her need to handle this by the thin line of his lips going silent.

  And then Nina was in the mix. “Yeah, and you know what else, buttercup?” She rolled up the sleeves of her jacket before driving her hands into her pockets and pulling roll after roll of camera film out, letting them rest in her fist. “I had to use my powers of persuasion to get these, you walking hormone. I fucking hate using my powers of persuasion. It’s work. It makes me tired and cranky. I’d rather just beat the shit out of them to get what I want, but no, Wanda here told me I had to tread lightly, and where are you while I’m hunting down sleazy dawgs with cameras? In a hallway, shoving your tongue down Clayton’s throat like you’re at the eighth-grade dance. I want no part of that, sistah. I hear Clayton has a mate, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to some shunning because you can’t keep your panties on. You know, I might just beat the shit out of you for the fuck of it.”

  Wherever she’d just been, she was back—big. Her saucy attitude and devil-may-care manner slunk back to the dark place inside her. Her arms fell to her sides, and her leg dropped from around Clay’s waist like it was made of lead. Casey hung her head, but before she did, she caught Wanda’s eyes. “So you’re mad?”

  Arms crossed over her chest, eyes blazing, Wanda’s hair literally shook around her face when she spat, “Mad because you’re accosting a man who’s mated in a dark hallway at some party filled with drugs and booze, prancing about like you’re Belinda Bubbles? Noooooooooo, don’t be ridiculous.” She waved her hand for emphasis. “I’m in love with the idea. So in love, if Nina doesn’t get to you first, I’m going to beat the shit out of you!

  “Didn’t I tell you not to leave my sight? Didn’t I?” Wanda’s eyes were full moon-sized and her face was an unflattering red. Casey decided seething wasn’t a word she’d rule out. “You were going to the bathroom, Casey. The next thing I know, you’re sliding up and down on a pole like you were born to grease it, and I’m fighting off some man-child with a gold tooth named Cherry-Ice—”

  �
��I thought it was Rainbow-Ice?” Nina interjected.

  “Whatever!” Wanda howled, clenching her fists. “How, in the name of all that’s holy, is what you’ve been up to even remotely like making an effort to get a grip on yourself? Did you even try some of the calming techniques we’ve practiced?”

  Well . . . okay, no.

  “Stop, Wanda.” Clay cut off any opportunity Casey might have taken to defend herself. His jaw set with a stern grind of teeth. “I was a part of this, too. Casey’s obviously not herself. It won’t happen again.”

  On the inside again she was weeping. Because “it wouldn’t happen again.”

  On the outside, she raised her eyes and gave Wanda a look of ashamed apology. “This was my fault. Clay didn’t . . . he didn’t . . . Look, I know I’ve said this before, but once it happens, I can’t seem to stop it. I don’t even know how I get where I end up. I just do, and I’m sorry.” Her eyes then went to Clayton, still standing far too close for her comfort. Each nerve in her body was rubbed raw with sexual tension, every bone teeming with embarrassment. “I—I—apologize. I was rude and forward and nothing like the person I am . . . was . . . used to be . . . really, really want to be again.” She found her favorite spot on the concrete floor once more, fastening her eyes to it like her life depended on it.

  “Casey!”

  She caught sight of two pairs of feet wearing expensive shoes. The clatter of their heels clacked around in her addled brain.

  Shiny.

  The twins had arrived.

  They crowded into the hallway, forcing Clayton to press back against her very fragile, so raw and cagey she just might explode, body.

  Drinks in hand, Lola planted her hand on her waiflike hip, taking a long sip from her straw before eyeballing Casey and Clay. “I can’t even believe this is you! I mean, you lecture us all the time about our inappropriate behavior, but hellloooo. You’re always nagging us to show some de—de—”

  “Decorum,” Casey filled in Lola’s blank spot on a shaky breath. Her head dropped back to its proper place—hung in mortified shame.

  “Uh-huh, that. Wait until Daddy finds out. He’s going to be so pissed when he finds out what you’ve been up to.”

  Clay made a move to usher the girls off, his face tight and angry, but Casey stopped him. She knew how to deal with the girls without any help.

  Lita nodded her agreement with a bob of her vacant head. “Yeah. Like, wait until he sees the pictures the ’razzi were taking of you. Holy shit, are you screwed. Where’d you learn to do that, anyway, Case? You were, like, a conformist, all twisting around that thing.”

  “You know.” Nina stepped between the girls, slapping an arm around each pair of shoulders, trying to steer them out of the tight confines of the hallway. “Aren’t you two scheduled for belly shots at the bar or something? Isn’t there a rapper out there with your names on him?”

  Casey’s head popped up when Nina attempted to derail the twins. Anger was always the best defense when you were knee deep in humiliation. It showed spunk and balls. “No, Nina. I’ve got this. Oh, and it’s contortionist, Lita. And I can’t imagine what I did was any worse than what the two of you did. Remember the thing that landed me in jail. Jail, you spoiled, self-absorbed children! Wouldn’t Daddy just love to hear about the bullshit I’ve gone through to hunt down bottom- feeding photographers and all of your dad’s lovely money that I’ve spent paying them off to shut them up. What I did tonight doesn’t even come close to the kind of crap I’ve put up with from the two of you. So if your father’s angry because of what I did tonight, maybe he’d like to see some of the messes I’ve gotten the two of you out of—messes he never had a clue about. Messes that are documented in living color!”

  Lola gasped, her doe eyes astonished. “That’s—that’s—absorption!”

  Casey’s eyes glazed over, only this time it had nothing to do with a demonic state. This was all Casey, eyeball deep in fed-up. She rounded on them both, pushing her way between them. “No, Lola, it’s extortion, and yeah, you can bet your size-zero ass I’d be happy to tell Daddy I went to jail because you two oversexed, brainless, boozing fuckwits haven’t a shred of moral fortitude! And again, so you don’t confuse yourselves, I said fortitude. Look it up in that crazy thing they call the dictionary and while you’re at it, look up the word resignation because when I’m done telling your father the kind of crap I’ve put up with for more years than I’m willing to cop to—it’s what I’ll be handing him tomorrow in the morning!”

  Shooting past Wanda, whose mouth formed a perfect O, and Nina, who appeared to give her a begrudging thumbs-up, Casey flew down the narrow hall. Her feet in these ridiculously high heels, so confident merely an hour ago, caved at the ankles, making her exit less than swift.

  Clay’s footsteps thundered behind her, while the outraged babble of the twins mingled with Nina’s sharp tongue.

  She heard Clay call her name and insist that she wait for him, but she wanted no part of ever having to look him square in the eye again.

  In fact, should death befall her at this very instant, she’d go willingly. She’d even offer to throw herself under the bus if it meant she didn’t have to face Clay or her sister again.

  Zigzagging her way through the crowd, she swatted at pairs of drunken hands grabbing at her as though they had the right just because she’d all but screamed out loud she was up for a good time. Remarks about her chastity, or lack thereof, were made when she shoved her way toward the exit sign.

  The need to hide under her covers for the next century kept her feet moving, pushing her to get to the door located at the farthest corner of the whole damned club.

  Not to mention the tingle in her fingertips kept her focused on her goal. After everything she’d done tonight—she didn’t need arson as her nightcap.

  Her heart crashed when she slammed into a much larger woman than herself.

  Tall and striking, the woman pulled Casey toward her, sheltering her from men who slung lewd remarks as they shot through the crowd. Yanking Casey by the arm, this large, imposing woman shoved her way to the exit, cracking the door open with just a push of one pink-tipped finger.

  Incredulous might have been her first emotion, but grateful to be hurled into the cold night air won out.

  Taking deep, shuddering breaths, Casey stumbled out along the uneven pavement, bobbing and weaving in heels that no longer represented sexy, but instead resembled a ball and chain. Placing her hands on her thighs, she bent at the waist and fought the dizzy rush drinking always left in its wake.

  Supermodel long legs in a wide stance shuffled in front of her. “Well, you certainly know how to cause a scene, don’t you?” Gravelly and deep, throaty and rich, the voice that asked the question followed up with a chuckle that was like ribbons of dark chocolate, all hot and melty.

  Casey might have laughed, too, if her words weren’t the blatant truth of the matter. She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. I seem to have a way.”

  “You know what else you have a way with, darling?”

  Well, in light of recent events, she hoped it involved a knack for panhandling. Straightening, she cocked her head, gazing up at the blondest woman she’d ever met with the longest pair of false eyelashes on the market. “No. What?”

  Her blue eyes sparkled the kind of sparkle that matched the coppery gold glitter dress she wore that showed off her broad yet lean shoulders and highlighted her long, thick braid. “Getting into the kind of trouble you don’t stand a chance of getting out of.”

  If that wasn’t the fucking truth.

  In just four days she’d managed to land in the pokey, turn into a demon, find out her sister was super-paranormal, sprout horns, reinvent 101 Ways to Use a Stripper’s Pole, and lose her job. How uncanny that this Nordic goddess towering over her had picked up on that vibe.

  She snorted, letting her head fall back on her shoulders. “Tell me about it. You have no idea the kind of week I’ve had. You’d never believe it.”
Casey began to walk, shivering when a gust of wind shook the surrounding trees. The tall woman followed behind her, finally falling into step beside her, and matching Casey’s much shorter strides.

  “I understand exactly what you mean, darling.” Her voice was sympathetic.

  Now that was just plain silly. How could the average human being know exactly what she meant? Especially one who looked like she did? Casey shook her head. “Oh, I disagree, and if I had enough breath left in me, I’d tell you why I disagree. But I’m too tired.” She paused for a moment, looking up and down the street in the hopes she’d find a cab.

  “No. I really do understand what you’re going through. I’ve had a bad week, too,” she insisted.

  Pu-lease. But the woman had rescued her. The least she could do was acknowledge that she wasn’t the only person in the world facing a crisis. “Did I thank you for getting me out of there? You were incredible. I don’t know how you opened that door with just one finger, but I’m awed. It was the stuff amazing’s made of.”

  She waved a long-fingered hand dismissively, the thick diamond bracelet on her wrist glittering under the twinkle lights that lit the trees lining the sidewalk. “Oh, it was no trouble. No trouble at all.”

  Yeah. That thing she’d done with her finger didn’t seem like it was much trouble. It had seemed eerily easy. “Well, thank you. I was in deep back there.” And because she didn’t want to seem ungrateful, Casey asked, “So you had a bad week, too?”

  She pouted, pushing her red, shiny lower lip out. “Dreadful.” Casey let out a sigh that made her shoulders lift and release. “That sucks. What happened?”

  “I found out my ma—er, husband was cheating on me.”

  Bumma. Maybe that did trump being turned into a demon. Casey cast another long look at her. She was gorgeous. Every long-limbed, graceful, perfect, platinum blond, at least six- foot inch of her. Who, in their right mind, would cheat on this specimen of beautaciousness? Men could be such bottom-feeders sometimes. “That’s awful. I’m really sorry. But if it’s any consolation, you’re a beautiful woman with a good heart who was nice enough to save this woman who was in distress. You won’t be single long. I mean, that is if you don’t plan to reconcile. I watched a show about infidelity not long ago, and the therapist said that some marriages actually do recover with time and counseling. Maybe you can work things out?”