Rash and Rationality
Page 22
As I rounded the stairs, checking twice that it was the right floor, I thought back to the bartender I hadn’t been able to stop staring at. He’d had that whole ‘I could model for a surf club’ esthetic going on, complete with thick, medium-length dark hair and olive skin. But what’d had me drooling into my vampire bite were the tats. He’d known how to stylize his body, relying on black ink and the right amount of whorls and lines to draw the eye to all his best spots.
Shame that the rest had been covered by his shirt and the chance of me getting a peek had been negative billion. Don’t try to flirt when there’s a pile of latex gloves in your pocket, is all I’m saying. I can’t even imagine the freaky shit he’d thought I was into.
“Seriously?”
Sitting before my door was a brown package, which was always supposed to be dropped off with the manager to cut down on theft. Not that it stopped him from refusing to keep said packages and just dump them off if we didn’t collect within an hour. I checked the apartment number, thirteen, then the name on the box.
Layla Leeland. That was mine even if it was written in a super curly script my drunk ass had to turn around a few times to read. I’d bitch out the manager tomorrow… No, that’s Halloween. I’ll bitch him out on November first.
With that decided, I fumbled into my apartment. The door rattled open and smacked straight into the pile of laundry baskets I foraged from. Nursing school really took a bite out of everything in my life. Time, energy, the ability to connect with another human being.
I didn’t even have a cake for my birthday. Most years I’d at least pick up a chocolate cupcake with orange frosting and cram a candle in it. But I couldn’t bother this go around. Eh, what was twenty-five anyway but a reminder that a quarter of my life was over?
Dropping the box on my counter caused a trash bag to splatter to the floor. I should really clean this place up. Put away my scrubs and dismantle bra hill. See if my vacuum even works anymore or if the spiders own it now.
A yawn ripped from my throat, shattering any illusions I’d get my life in order. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” I declared to my apartment and the mystery box. It was probably more textbooks that cost the same as a new phone.
Shambling like a zombie on its last leg, I stumbled to my bedroom. Without bothering to shed my scrubs, or even wipe the makeup off, I fell face first onto my bed and embraced the ambivalence of sleep.
* * * *
What was that?
The sound of Jell-O shot out of a slingshot at speakers rocketed through my apartment. My heart jumped into my throat and my body tried to leap up. But I was still buzzing and had minimal control of my limbs. It was more of a graceful ooze to the floor.
In the process of righting my eyes, I caught a flash of light breaking from the living room. It kept strobing as if a lightning storm had crashed on my futon. If I wasn’t partially hungover and drunk at the same time, I’d like to think I’d have done the smart thing. Called the cops, called the building manager, grabbed a weapon. Not walked out into the weird lights and sounds armed only with my exhausted hand on my hip.
As I stepped into the hallway, noting that my front door was still closed, a shadow crawled across the wall. It looked like a man rising to his feet when a pair of giant bird wings erupted from behind his back. They stretched wide, every shadowy feather straining as if this intruder were about to fly.
Did I turn around, grab my phone and wait for the police to sort this out?
Of course not. I ran straight into my living room and my jaw hit the floor.
It wasn’t because a giant bird flew into my apartment and flapped about in pain. Or that one of my old angel costumes from a past Halloween had come to life and started dancing around. No, this was even weirder.
A gorgeous man with sun-kissed skin stood on my yoga mat. His hair was lush and reached his collarbones. His very exposed and cut collarbones. Which drew my eye lower down the rest of his body.
I could have offered to check him for moles for how naked he was. His chest glistened the only way hairless skin could, which he had puffed out to display his impressive pecs. A single line of dark hair revived itself under his labyrinth of abs. I tried to count them but lost track as I followed the treasure trail down to a pair of red satin briefs that barely covered his shame.
And it wasn’t just because the fabric was tiny enough it revealed nearly his full bush to the world. No, whatever pipe he was swinging bulged so tight below his underwear it looked like it was vacuum packed for easy transport.
What if that wasn’t the full show he had?
What the hell is wrong with me?
I lashed out with my hand and snatched up the first thing I could…which happened to be a pillar candle. Waving it about as if it were a club, I shouted, “Who the fuck are you?!”
The man laughed, his voice that deep ‘roll through every nerve in my body’ baritone. “Highly accurate,” he said, raising and lowering his sharp eyebrows while a smile perched on his lips.
I shook the candle around, prepared to attack him if he didn’t give me an answer. The stranger eyed it up, then said, “I am your incubus.”
“What?”
“And I must say…” He placed a hand to his ab-alicious stomach and peered down. “I quite like your preferences. Ooh.” His hand slipped under his red briefs and he started to jerk his hand along his full cock. Those dark eyes rolled back into his head and he shook his black hair while moaning.
I could nearly see the tip peeking above his underwear, his large hand yanking the waistband lower and lower. My toes raised my body up, trying to get me a better view, when I scowled. “Stop that!” I shouted as much at him as my own train-wreck libido.
The man pulled his hand away instantly then extended both out as if I had him at my mercy. Ha. Sure.
“Let’s start again. Who are you?”
His infectious smile wavered, drawing my attention to how hawk-like his features were without the raised cheeks of a grin. I clenched my toes, afraid of what his anger would bring, but any ire snapped away in an instant. “I am yours, Layla. What more need be said?”
“Mine? How the shit are you mine? I’ve never seen you before in my life!” I shouted again, still brandishing the candle. To my surprise, he kept acting like it was a real threat to him.
His eyes stayed steady on the sweet pea pillar while he spoke. “I am here to answer your every desire.”
My desire? Who the shit breaks in and… No.
Ah fuck, no. Dana and the rest did not chip in to get me a…an incubus, as he called himself. Did that mean a male prostitute?
She said my gift would arrive later, and I did give her a key to my apartment in case of emergencies. Did sneaking a male whore inside count as an emergency? I whipped back to my front door, noting the locks in place.
“Look, this is all very…” Humiliating that my friends know I can’t get a date to save my life. “Flattering, but I don’t—”
The stranger stepped closer, and my senses flooded with him. His heat burst across my skin like a warm bath. His scent, rugged as an alpine mountain, tingled down my spine and lit a fire inside me. And his look…fuck me, but he was even hotter out of the shadows.
Those eyes that’d been dark as night were in actuality an otherworldly amber. His sharp nose and harsh cheekbones combined with the full bottom lip made the word pretty almost perch on my tongue. But then I glanced down his body, the muscles taut and proud, his gait strident, those full-to-bursting briefs, and he was nothing but fire.
“I am yours to command, to will, to dance to your every desire, my lady,” he announced, his head bowing low. My fingers ached to rummage through the thick hair before me, to tug on the roots and crush him to my lips.
His head popped up and a smirk greeted me. Shit, did he read the stupid horny thought on my face?
I stared at the candle. He didn’t seem to be a threat, and if Dana booked him…?
I mean, it’s never nice to return a gift un
used, right? It seemed very impolite.
He rolled his hand around the candle, plucking it from me before I could even put it down. “I don’t believe this is necessary, unless you were hoping to set the mood?” After placing the pillar on the coffee table, he turned and smiled. “Or intended to pour hot wax on my body.”
“What…?” Fucking hell, what did she get me? Okay, the hottest incubus at the dude ranch. But, still—
“You seem…” he whispered while rolling his hands through my hair. It’d been a matted mess from a long day of school and drinking, but under his fingers the curls felt smoother and sleeker. Hot breath curled against my neck, causing me to shiver down to my toes. “…as if you require some relaxation.”
Strong fingers dug into my shoulders, kneading away the stress. A moan slipped from my lips, this stranger making fast work of unraveling the tension I’d carried since I was nine.
“Now that is music for the ages,” he said behind me. His hands released from my shoulders and flat palms caressed my weary ribcage before rounding right at the side of my breasts. Dressed in little more than an old bra and scrubs, I could nearly feel his skin on mine. It sent my heart racing.
“What’s your name?” I spat out, clinging to the idea that if I knew who he was, then it couldn’t be so pathetic. All the while, my body begged for him to touch more of me.
“Do we need names?” he asked and that pouty bottom lip caressed the shell of my ear. He didn’t bite down, didn’t lick, just placed it there telling me he could do anything at a moment’s notice.
I spun in his hands, which settled right on my hips. The fingers kept tugging on the waistband of my scrubs, this incubus slapping the elastic back and forth. “What if I need to call you? Give you directions?”
His eyes blazed as the amber shifted to fire. “That should not be a concern. But if you are wondering what to shout to the rooftops while I devour you…?”
Fuck, how did he know that?
“I believe Ink will suffice.”
“Ink?” I repeated, while staring the man up and down. “And…what are you going to do to me?”
Swooping his fingers under my shirt, he dug into the small of my back. I flew forward, his lips a breath from mine as he said, “Whatever you desire.”
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About the Author
Ellen Mint adores the adorkable heroes who charm with their shy smiles and heroines that pack a punch. She recently won the Top Ten Handmaid’s Challenge on Wattpad where hers was chosen by Margaret Atwood. Her books, Undercover Siren and Fever are available at Amazon as well as a short story in the Lucky Between The Sheets anthology. Married, she lives in Nebraska with her dog named after Granny Weatherwax. Her hobbies include gaming, painting, and halloween prop making. The basement is full of skeletons because they ran out of room in the closets.
Ellen loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.totallybound.com