I trailed my finger around my bellybutton, my thoughts running in different directions. Would Tristan still be talking to me if the brawl didn’t happen? Or was it something else that pissed him off?
“What would you do?” I spoke to my demon.
There I went again, talking to my stomach. Truth of the matter though, was that I never knew where my demon was. Most of the reactions I received always came from my stomach—when I was hungry for sex, my stomach would constrict. Sometimes it was too the point of pain, but it hasn't gone that far lately.
An image sparked inside my head and it made me narrow my eyes. My demon was showing me something I could do to satisfy both of us. It was a risk. Hell, it was already sounding stupid.
“You know I can't do that,” I said out-loud.
The image flashed through my head again. She didn't care. She wanted me to do this. She was telling me that I could do it and not get busted while I was at it.
“Melinda said not to start trouble.”
It was like I could feel the demon roll her eyes and even I had to admit that was a lame statement.
I had to think about the plan again when the image replayed.
“You better not be telling me to do this just so you can get satisfaction.”
There was no reply at all, and I took that as a sign that she obviously wasn't going to care.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
I pushed off the bed and opened my closet. If I was going to do this, I needed to look the part. I pushed aside shirts that weren't appealing for the matter and found a backless red shirt that dipped down at the front. I walked over to the mirror and held it in front of me, my own eyes darkening at the color.
It was safe to say my demon liked the choice.
I threw it on the bed and retrieved a pair of black leather leggings. My new lingerie was discarded to the ground and I pulled out a fresh pair. I didn't need dirty memories lingering over my newest buy.
My hands rested on my hips as I looked at the final pick for today. “This better be worth it, demon,” I muttered. And I meant it.
This better be fucking worth it.
****
I arrived at the arena an hour later. Apart from the few street walkers that scattered around, the street was dead.
If my estimations were correct, there shouldn't be anyone here besides the usual. Then again, you didn’t even need to ask if anyone was here. No events meant empty place.
My red heels clinked against the hardwood of the floor. Just a week ago this floor was crowded with people, cheering, hooting, and wasting money.
Now, the only thing here was me, the air and maybe a few dust bites here and there.
“Hello?” I called out, my eyes flicking over the top balconies.
I had dolled up my face, ignoring the churning in my stomach when I had placed the red lipstick over my lips. Normally, I would despise the use of so much make-up, but here I was wearing more eyeliner than I would intend. I could be very in-sync with my demon when it came to some things.
This was the side of me she loved to see.
I wasn't the casual jean wearing Maya right now.
I was my demon's reflection.
“Hello?” I called out again, patience becoming my biggest problem. Someone better answer or I was going to be pissed. I got dressed up for nothing.
“Yeah yeah, hang on.” I heard the reply, followed by a sigh and I looked up in time to watch a male walk out of one of the rooms.
He had to be in his late thirties at least. Stress affected the business charade he was trying to pull off. The tie—that would normally look presentable around his collar—was loose and messy over his white shirt. His disheveled brown hair was streaked with gray—showing the signs of stress—while his clueless eyes wandered over me with confusion.
“Can I help you?”
My eyes took in the length of him and I cringed inwardly at his round stomach. But, as much as I would love to just turn around, I couldn’t. I was here for a reason. No point backing out now.
“Actually yes, I was wondering if I could speak with you, privately.” I felt my lips pull up into a small smile, hoping that was all I had to do.
I wanted to roll my eyes when his looked over me again. All he had to do was say yes. It’s not a big decision.
“Yeah sure, come up,” he finally said after a brief silence.
I semi-hesitated again, but my demon wasn’t going to let me go so easily. So, much to my dismay, I headed towards the side door and up the stairs.
He was sitting at his desk when I arrived to the office. The scene in front of me was exactly what you would expect from an officials room. Trophies sat in the corner collecting dust, photos of fighters—who had fought in the arena—hung on the walls, also collecting dust. And then there was his desk, which was as messy as his hair. Piles and piles of papers scattered around the room and it made me wonder if he cleaned in here in the past decade.
When I finally moved my eyes to him, he was standing behind his desk, a hand outstretched for me to take. “What can I help you with, uh...?”
“Ms Simmons.” I reluctantly shook his hand with what I was hoping to be a polite smile.
My demon swayed in my stomach, like she was doing a victory dance at the skin-to-skin contact.
Stop it. You'll throw me off.
“Well, Ms Simmons. Take a seat and tell me what I can do to help.”
I looked to the wooden chair and arched a brow. There was a piece of chewing gum right in the middle of the seat, not convincing me to do as he said. “It's cool. I can stand.”
“Alright, well, what can I do for you?” He sat down and laced his fingers over the desk.
I know he asked me what I wanted, but I was trying to delay everything.
I walked over to the wall and looked over at the photos that hung. They were all of the fighters and officials that had worked here, or were still here. My eyes ran over the grinning faces until I found a few of Tristan. Most of them were candid shots of him fighting, while others were of him grinning next to other fighters. “He's a good fighter, don't you think, Mr...?”
“Oh, sorry.” I moved my eyes back to him and found him looking at my bare back. “West, Geoff West.” I nodded. I didn't really care what his name was. This was just me trying to spark up a discussion. “And, yes, he is a good fighter, one of our best actually. Are you looking to sponsor one of our fighters?” His hands were moving over his attire, straightening out the creases, but we both knew it wasn’t working.
This was going to be much easier than I thought.
Then the mention of sponsoring came in my head. Did I really come off as a business woman? I'm in leather leggings, a backless shirt, red stilettos, my face caked up, and this guy thinks I'm here for business?
“No. Actually, I was wondering what happened to his fight. I never heard any news on who won.”
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Geoff’s face. It was almost revolting to watch.
Remember what you're here for, Maya. Just think about the satisfaction you and the demon will feel.
Sometimes mentally preparing myself could always help.
“There was no fight, Ms Simmons. A brawl broke out which canceled it altogether,” he said.
“And?”
He was caught off guard from my question. “What do you mean, Ms Simmons?”
I was starting to think he was stupid. “Well is the fight going to be rescheduled?”
He was quiet for a moment, tugging at his tie slightly. “No. We have come to the conclusion that Tristan cannot fight.”
“And, why's that?” My eyes narrowed at him, and I resisted walking over there and slapping him. “Why isn't he allowed to fight if he's one of your best fighters?”
Nerves were getting the best of him and I watched as he swallowed. “You see Ms Simmons, the reason he was involved in the brawl is against the rules. He may not have been the one that started it, but the fact that he was involved and as
saulted an individual was enough to suspend him. The fight is canceled by a forfeit.”
I turned back to face the photos again, my hands clenching and relaxing repeatedly. In all honesty, I was surprised he was telling me this. Wasn't there something about confidentiality around here?
Either way, I still wanted to just strangle him and that stupid decision, but I needed to remember why I was here, and that this guy was doing his job.
After I diminished my temper, I let the demon inside release a pint of her scent. It was just a fraction of what she did the other night, but I had a feeling it was more than enough.
“Mr West,” I walked slowly over to his desk, my voice turning low. “Is there any way that it could change?”
His eyes watched me as I walked, and even though I hadn’t touched him yet, they were already straining to stay on my eyes. It was safe to say that my affection was well, affecting him.
“Uh,” he moved his eyes away and concentrated on a piece of paper that was in front of him. “I don't—I don't think it can, Ms—uh... Ms Simmons. Once the decision is made... it's... final.”
I ignored the fact that he was letting his nerves get a hold of him and I trailed my finger over his desk, collecting dust along the way.
Ugh, this whole place stinks of filth.
I flicked the dust off my finger and watched as it slowly floated to the ground. “Are you sure about that, Mr West?” I said, bringing my eyes back up to his.
He swallowed again. And for once, I actually thought I might get out of this easier than I thought. Then I remembered it wasn’t just me, I also had a demon that wanted in on the deal as well.
“That's the rules, Ms.” Geoff was keeping his words to a minimum and I stepped closer. My leg brushed against his knee and I was sure I heard him intake a sharp breath.
“That's a shame,” I said, “because I would have been very happy if the match were still on.” I leaned back against his desk and made a show of straightening my shirt, but I was more pulling it down to give him a better view.
“Uh...”
Something in the corner of my eye grabbed my attention and I looked down to spot a ring around his finger.
“Mr. West.” I pushed off the desk and took a small step closer. His knee was positioned between my legs. My demon had already made herself useful and sent her scent through to his skin. A smirk appeared on my lips when I watched his green eyes darken. “I would love to see that match.” I lowered myself down a little, testing out his commitment to his wife back at home. He didn't move. I lowered down even more and still got no movement.
He was completely under my influence.
“Maybe you could change that little arrangement,” my lips moved close to his ear, “and I'll make sure it's the best decision of your life.”
My demon was jumping hoops inside me, waiting for the right time to unleash herself fully and take what she wanted.
If his eyes could go any darker, they would have. I didn't break eye contact as I reached my arm behind me and retrieved his desk phone, bringing it between us. “All you have to do is make one call.”
His chest moved in an uneven pace, and I could smell how much his need for me was. I held the phone higher, in case he didn't see it and his eyes flicked down.
He hesitated, his eyes moving from me to the phone. When he finally did pick it up, my legs had already exhausted themselves and I was practically sitting on his knee.
His fingers were moving at a slow pace as they dialed. My hand worked on its own accord, playing with his hair on the back of his neck. Inside, I was finding this disgusting. But I was doing this for Tristan. I was doing this for us.
I heard someone mutter a hello on the other end. Geoff took a while to get his act together and remember what he was doing. “Uh, you know the fight between Preston and Tristan that I canceled?”
There was a short answer that followed. My demon had made a head-start, making her way slowly towards my mind. She knew what was coming. She didn't need to be a psychic to know. We had him in the palm of our hands, right where we needed him.
We were just waiting for the words to be spoken, and then it was game over.
“There's been a change of plans. It's back on.”
Eight – Early Morning Drama
“Did you hear?” Melinda barged into my room at an odd-godly hour of the morning. I kept my eyes shut—trying to ignore the fact she was here. It wasn’t working as much as I would’ve hoped.
“Did you hear? Did you hear?” I felt her weight on my bed and I almost punched her when she started bouncing. Eventually, it got the best of me.
“All I can hear is your annoying voice waking me up. Go away.”
“Maya Simmons,” I felt her palms dig into my shoulders blades. “It’s Tristan.”
At the mention of Tristan my eyes snapped open. “What?”
She leaned back and named everything that really wasn't necessary. “Well, Josh told Brady, who told Seth, who told Liam, who told Noah, who told Kelly, who told me,” she took a deep breath, “Tristan’s fight is back on. It's next week. Isn't that amazing—totally random considering he just got told no, but so wicked!” she squealed.
I really didn’t see how Melinda was this wide awake right now. What time was it anyway? My eyes flicked to the clock and I was sure that I would’ve punched her if she wasn’t my friend. “It’s 3AM in the morning.”
An arched brow was my reply. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
I sighed and let my head fall back against the wall. “Yes, I know.”
“Oh, you and Tristan are on talking terms now?” she challenged.
“Nope.” I draped my arm over my eyes. “Not at all.”
After I had completely disgusted myself by letting Geoff touch me, I immediately came home and scrubbed off his scent, the memories, and even his sweat.
By the time it was over, my demon had taken as much as she could—seriously, she was really hungry lately. I was getting sick of her doing this but it wasn’t like I could exactly stop it from happening. When it comes to sex, she takes over, it’s almost like I’m not even there, but I am. And I know what I’m doing.
I just hope she wasn’t hungry for at least a while.
But nonetheless, I still hadn't heard a word from Tristan. Even though his fight was back on, he still wasn't going to be the one that told me. I had to find out from Melinda, who found out from Kelly, who found out... from other people. And if all those people knew, then I obviously wasn't one of the first that was told.
And I couldn’t help but feel disappointed about that.
“Then how did you know?” she asked curiously. I could feel her eyes narrowing on my frame, suspicious at how I got the information.
I cursed inwardly, digging my brain for an excuse I could use. I didn't tell her what I did today. I wasn't planning on telling her. She didn't need to know. It was one of those dirty little secrets you just didn’t tell anyone.
“Um...” I pushed away the disappointment that was lingering from the fact that Tristan didn't tell me, and thought of an excuse. “Kelly told me.” It was the best I could come up with. I didn't even know who Kelly was—I probably had a class with her—but Melinda didn't need to know that I had bad socializing skills.
“Oh, the bitch told you before me,” she muttered.
I moved my arm away and saw her staring down at her phone like it was an imbecile. “Can I go back to sleep please?”
She looked back to me and a quizzical expression passed her face. “What is this sleep that you speak of?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please go away, or get laid. Either or, just let me go to sleep.” I loved her. I really did. But the fact that she could stay up a whole night and not even feel the exhaustion the next day, was tiring for me.
“Fine.” I felt her move off my bed and her footsteps walked towards the door. “Oh, by the way, Tristan called.”
Suddenly, I wasn't tired anymore. “He what? Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your grumpy ass was negative as soon as I walked through the door.”
I scrambled off my bed and ran to find my cell phone, which was buried under a pile of clothes and hidden deep in my jeans pockets. “How long ago did he call?”
My fingers were fumbling to unlock my screen and the brightness was almost enough to make me blind, but not even I could ignore the excitement that surged through me.
“About an hour ago.”
An hour ago?
I turned around and glared. “Why didn’t you tell me an hour ago then?”
She thought about her reply for a second, and then she looked at me with that duh face that some people—like Melinda—could pull off perfectly. “Because I was letting you sleep, geez, sorry for trying to be considerate.”
She was out the door before I could grab something to throw at her face, and I heard her snickering all the way to Jamie’s room.
I couldn't ignore the fact that I was eager to talk to Tristan. My mind wondered on what he called for, what he wanted to talk about and while I was looking for his name, I even wondered if he was awake right now.
But I wanted our friendship back. Not this non-existent, one-sided, cold and silent predicament that we’ve been in the past few days.
Other than the other night, Tristan’s name was easy to find. I needed to collect myself quickly, but I didn’t know why I was looking forward to hearing his voice. It’s just Tristan.
Nothing big.
“Hello?”
My heart raced rapidly. Oh God, what's happening to me? “Tristan.” His name felt like a relief as it passed my lips. “Hey, Melinda told me you called.” My voice was surprisingly calm and I took a seat at the end of my bed.
“Maya,” he breathed my name like it was a delicacy on his tongue. “Yeah, I called. Um,” I heard him intake a long breath and then exhale. “I was actually wondering if I could see you.”
He wanted to see me right now? At 3AM? Is this guy crazy? Am I crazy enough to accept it?
“Yeah sure, where do you want to meet?”
Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.) Page 8