Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.)

  “Well, well, well.” Melinda smirked as soon as she saw me. “It must have been good if you're walking out with his shirt.”

  I rolled my eyes, slumping down on the couch beside her. “I'll never tell my secrets.”

  “Aw, come on, Maya.” She let out a dramatic groan. “I thought we told each other everything. I've been begging for this day, and now that it's here you're not going to tell me anything.”

  “Sorry.” I made a motion of zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

  “It's fine.” She raised her shoulders in a shrug. “I'll find out eventually. I always do.”

  It was sad to admit, but it was true. She would probably get it out of me whenever I'm drunk next, or on some other form of intoxication.

  “How are you feeling anyway?” she asked, suddenly making the mood serious.

  “I want to say I'm good but the way there's so much secrecy...” I sighed. “I just don't know.” I wasn't going to deny the fact that it sucked to know that both Ethan and Tristan were keeping last night away from me.

  Melinda's silence however made me look towards her, and by the way that she had suddenly averted her eyes to the TV—that wasn't even on—startled me. “You know what happened don't you?”

  Before I could start begging her for information, she held her hand up, silencing me. “I don't know everything that happened. Daniel and I were outside throughout it all but whatever reason they're doing it, I'm sure it's for the best. Ethan said that it's not something you need right now.”

  Ethan said this. Ethan said that. Ethan can go suck my non-existent dick.

  “You all suck,” I mumbled, crossing my arms immaturely across my chest. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and played with one of the buttons on the shirt. My mind couldn't even think up things that could've happened last night. If it was going to affect me so much, then someone must've died, someone that was close to me, but it couldn't be because everyone I cared about was right here. And they would have told me.

  Unless... “Has anyone heard from Jamie?”

  “Yeah she called your phone like two hours ago but you left it in your car. We didn't come back until an hour ago.”

  I figured Melinda and Daniel would've taken my car. It's not like they have one of their own. Daniel did, but that was all the way in Florida.

  Something sweet hit my nose and I instantly got distracted by the way it smelt. “Is someone cooking pancakes?”

  “Yes.” Melinda's sudden outburst startled me. “It’s Daniel. It's weird though because he's never cooked for us, and... he's been very weird ever since we woke up.”

  “Yum.” My mouth watered at the thought of pancakes. Like Melinda though, it was odd that Daniel was the one cooking them. “I'm going to go see what's up.”

  “Please do, and report back to me because he won't tell me.” I made the move to get up, only to stop when Melinda's hand wrapped around my wrist. I looked down questioningly. She smiled. “I'm glad you're okay, Maya. I would've kicked some serious ass if you weren't.”

  Knowing her, she would. I smiled back. “I'm glad to be okay.”

  Daniel was in the kitchen when I walked in, standing in front of a pan while the smell of his pancakes took over all my senses. This was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

  I leaned against the doorway and watched as he flipped the pancakes, a smile crawling on my face. “So, you cook now?”

  My voice surprised him that he almost dropped the pan. He managed to control it and place it back on the stove. Putting down his spatula, he wiped his hands on the dishtowel, throwing his gaze towards me. “I've always cooked,” he said, like it offended him in a way. “I've just never cooked around you girls.” His eyes cast down to the fabric covering my chest. “Nice shirt by the way.”

  “Why thank you.” I made a show of modeling it off, only to realize he was changing the subject. “No don't distract me, why are you cooking?” I walked over and jumped onto a free space on the counter next to him.

  “What? You don't think I can cook?” he asked.

  “Oh no, I have no doubt that you can cook.” He slapped away my hand when I attempted to dip my finger in the batter mix. “I'm just saying that you never cooked here, and I don't think you would start now. So.” It was a long shot but I was going to take it. “What did you do?”

  “What makes you think I did—” he stopped when he noticed I wasn't buying it. “Okay, so maybe I might have done something bad last night and Melinda might hate me.”

  Oh, this just got interesting. “Tell me more, Danny boy.”

  He arched a brow at my lame rhyme. “Danny boy?”

  I shrugged. “It rhymed more in my head than it did when I said it.”

  “Right.” He went back to flipping pancakes and I had to kick him to get him back on the subject.

  “Don't avoid me. What did you do?” I asked.

  I was sure he was trying to ignore the fact that I was even here, but he sighed. “Okay, but don't tell her. I want to tell her when she's distracted so the reaction isn't as bad as it would be if she was told on an empty stomach.”

  “Ah, so that's why you're making pancakes. You think she won't care if you bear them,” I said. Pancakes were a good try, but I highly doubted that it would distract Melinda.

  He must have done something really bad if he had planned all of this.

  “I made out with Sophia last night.”

  “You what?” I exclaimed louder than I should have.

  “Sh.” He held a finger up to my mouth but it didn't stop the surprise from showing on my face.

  “I can't—” I rolled my eyes and pushed his finger away after failing to make a clear speech. “I can't believe you. Wait, you didn't... you know?” I made an idiot out of myself when I repeated the same thing Melinda had done to me, inserting two fingers into the circle I created with my other hand.

  “Of course not, if I did that, I might as well pack my bags and get the first flight out of here, then I would leave a note and change my name and address so she can't hunt me down.”

  I could only laugh. “As dramatic as that sounds, you would actually have to do that.”

  Melinda could get violent when she wanted to be. Sophia was a close friend to her so I could see her traveling to Florida with an axe. Sophia was also out of bounds. Melinda would kill an incubus if he touched her, just like I would with Jamie.

  “Exactly,” he said, “so I don't know how she's going to react when I tell her I only made out with Sophia, hence why I'm making pancakes.”

  I honestly can not wait for this to go down. “I'm looking forward to it.” I hopped off the counter and as evil as my thoughts were, I held my hand out. The questioning look I received offended me. “Do I get pancakes?”

  “Are you going to tell Melinda before I get a chance?”

  Lie. Lie. Lie. “Nope.”

  In all honesty, Melinda couldn't be mad at Daniel for long. She admired him too much for that. She was just going to add a few bruises to his face and that's it.

  Nothing big.

  Gratefully taking a plate of pancakes from Daniel, I walked over to the pantry and retrieved the maple syrup, not really intending on using it for the pancakes. “Thanks, Daniel.” I walked back to his side with a smile.

  He shrugged, giving me a smile back. “Glad to see you walking.”

  Walking back out of the kitchen, I placed one of the pancakes in my mouth, instantly loving the taste even though I hadn't chewed. Melinda sat up when she saw me. “So why's he cooking?”

  I shrugged, second thinking if I should tell her or not. I stared down at the pancakes and ran through the pros and cons.

  Pros if I tell her: I could be entertained by their arguing... oh wait, Tristan's in the room... Oh! We could both be entertained by the arguing.

  Cons if I tell her: Nothing. Daniel wouldn't hate me. He may be angry, but like Melinda, he'll get over it.

  And doing something with Tristan just seemed to overtake everything else. />
  Sorry, Daniel.

  “He made out with Sophia last night.” I mumbled, the pancake almost making it hard for me to speak clearly.

  “What?” she exclaimed, getting off the couch and storming past me into the kitchen. “You made out with Sophia? What part of don’t touch her did you not understand last night?”

  So Melinda had warned Daniel. Ah, that adds about five minutes of more arguing.

  You're a snitch, Maya.

  Shut up, subconscious.

  “What's all the noise about?” Tristan asked when I walked back in the room. His eyes instantly went down to the plate of pancakes, and I was sure that they lit up like a child's when they see candy.

  “Melinda and Daniel are arguing,” I mumbled again. This pancake was really getting annoying. I placed the plate on the bed, finally taking the pancake out and crawling over to Tristan. “This means.” Feeling pretty confident, I swung my leg over his body, making sure the blanket was pushed down so I could feel his skin on my thighs. “We have about fifteen to twenty minutes before things go silent.”

  A grin pulled up on his lips and his hands went under his shirt to grip my hips. “I wonder what we could do in that spare time.”

  “Well,” I smirked, starting to feel my confident side turn into a more devious character. “Did you know…?” I put the half eaten pancake on the plate, picking up the maple syrup and putting a bit on my finger. “Maple syrup is made from the sap of some maple trees—don't ask me which ones because I will get it wrong.”

  I could see him fighting a smile and his fingers crawled up my sides. “I do know that, but continue.”

  “Well, I was thinking that because we're in the sappy stage.” I grinned, finding this really amusing. “We could maybe spice up the sap a bit.”

  “So you bring maple syrup into it?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I nodded seriously. “Because it apparently has a good amount of…” I flicked my eyes down. “Naturally occurring minerals such as calcium, manganese, potassium and magnesium.”

  “You're reading that off the back of the bottle, aren't you?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that question.” I answered, licking the syrup off my finger and flicking my eyes to his.

  I watched his eyes darken to a more vibrant blue and his hips shifted, telling me that he hadn't taken care of his... little friend yet. “And, what do you plan on doing with that?”

  Instead of answering him, I put more syrup on my finger, reaching over and smearing it over his lips slowly, and pulling it away when he nipped at my skin.

  Leaning forward until I was an inch from his lips, I whispered, “I can tell you that I don't want to eat the pancakes with it.” I was tempted to lick the syrup off right there and then but I wasn't fully done.

  Ignoring the groan from him when I leaned back, I put more of the syrup on my finger and started working it down the center of his hard chest. The flawless skin was smooth and hairless under my finger, and when I reached his sternum—where the start of his abs were—my own breath hitched at the intimacy of my actions.

  He didn't speak as I traced the syrup through each line of his abdomen, yet I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. I spent an equal amount of time running my finger through each groove, loving the way his breathing was as uneven as mine.

  “Maya,” his voice was rough, and impatience was definitely noticeable. Time was running out though, and I was sure that either Melinda or Daniel would ruin this.

  Starting from the above his belly button, I ran my tongue along the outline of his abs, taking my sweet time so I could savor the taste of the maple syrup mixed with the perfection of his skin. I felt his fingers hold my hair from sticking and I was glad for that. I really should've thought about that before doing this.

  I was half way up his abdomen when irritation started to pass through me. The way his erection was touching me was so distracting that I just wanted this to end so I could kiss him and he'd take over. I could hear him starting to pant and one of his hands were running along my shoulder blades smoothly.

  The way this whole scene was starting to become erotic made me hate that I put so much on him. It was getting the best of me.

  “Fuck it. I'll get the rest later.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, his hands gripped my hair and I had only moved a small distance before his lips completely captured mine.

  Neither of us cared that the syrup was still sticking to his chest. I was practically safe—his shirt was my protection.

  I ran my tongue along his top lip, tasting the sweetness instantly. I was on my back quickly and his hands ran down my sides, lifting my legs to wrap around his waist. I let out a sigh of relief when I felt his length run along the center of my panties, and the way he caught my lip between his teeth caused my hips to roll.

  Nothing could ruin the mood that had started now. The heat of it, the way his lips trailed along my jaw and down my neck, the way our hips were moving in-sync was mentally unbreakable.

  But as soon as his lips sucked on my neck, the unenviable happened.

  “Oh, shit.” The weight on top of me disappeared and I watched as Tristan scrambled around the room to put his jeans on. “I’m late.”

  Trying to understand what just happened, I looked over to the clock. 4:17PM. He had to be at the arena in less than an hour.

  You're fucking kidding me.

  “Booo!” My head fell back against the pillow, my thighs clenching together to control the heat that had been building rapidly between them. If he thinks for one second I’m going to give his shirt back, he can think again.

  “I'm sorry, baby.” He leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips.

  I kissed him back, but I was still annoyed. “You're seriously going to leave me like this?”

  He arched a brow. “I'm the one with the boner and maple syrup all over his chest and you're disappointed?”

  He had a point. “Suck,” I mumbled. His chest glistened with the syrup and I tried to quickly come up with something that would persuade him to maybe... arrive late to his match. Stupid thought, I know.

  “I'll see you tonight, okay?” He kissed me again when I nodded, and slowly walked out of the room with nothing but his slacks on while his blazer—which I now noticed—was bunched up in front of his erection.

  I instantly glared over at the clock for being a cock-block, planning to throw it out the window when my body cooled down, but I was only distracted by a folded piece of paper sitting on my dresser. Reaching over, I grabbed the paper thinking Tristan had left it for me. It actually looked like the object that he was holding last night when I came back in the room.

  I opened it, my brows furrowing as I read each word carefully.

  Maya, things are going to start getting complicated. You need to keep this to yourself but you can't trust everyone. I'll explain more in due time, but for now you need to keep this to yourself.

  I re-read the note over and over again. Eventually, panic came and I needed to get this thing away. What the hell was any of this supposed to mean? I can't trust everyone? Who was everyone? They could've been more specific. More importantly, why the hell was Tristan leaving me this? I wasn't even fully sure it was Tristan but he was the only one here.

  “You know.” I quickly dropped the note to the floor when I heard Melinda's voice, turning just in time to see her walk in. “I was wondering where the maple syrup went, but after seeing Tristan run out of here with it covering his chest, and the lack of his attempt to cover his boner, I kind of figured where it went.” She arched a perfectly shaped brow. “You do know he's going to have a great time washing that off?”

  I shrugged, not sure if I was supposed to feel bad about that or satisfied. “I was horny, he was horny, and I had maple syrup.” I reached down and grabbed the syrup, holding it out for her.

  “I'm actually surprised there's still some left,” she said, taking the bottle. “You're so whipped, Maya.”

  “How does that say I'm whip
ped?”

  “It doesn't. You not denying it does.” She flashed a grin and walked out of my room, fully ignoring the glare that I had.

  Shaking my head, I picked the note back up and grabbed the lighter off my dresser. I watched the note burn in my ashtray, and the whole time I had the words running through my head over and over again. I also had the thought of me being whipped lodged in there too.

  I didn't deny it.

  Fuck.

  Twenty-Eight – Still Friends with Benefits and Complications?

  “So, are you guys like in a relationship now, or are you still in the FWBAC stage?”

  Melinda's question took me by surprise and I choked on the smoke entering my lungs, all while trying to keep myself perched on the boot of my car. Patting my chest and getting over my coughing fit, I stared ludicrously at her. “You couldn't ask me that when I wasn't having a smoke?”

  “Sorry, next time, I'll just ask him.” She shrugged, placing her smoke between her lips and inhaling.

  I hadn't really thought about it until Melinda asked. What were Tristan and I now? Were we together? Were we not together? Were we... together-but-not-together—that's not even a real thing but I was trying to make it something. “I actually don't know,” I murmured, finally coming to the conclusion that I didn't even know. “We didn't really discuss it.”

  “So you guys just had sex and then he left as soon as he woke?” she asked.

  “We didn't have sex, we...” I paused, not really sure where I was going with it. Did we make love last night?

  “Made love?” she mimicked the words in my head. My silence lasted all of two seconds before she instantly jumped on it. “Oh my God.” Melinda was in front of me and her face carried a shocked expression. “He told you he loved you, didn't he?”

  I didn't answer, and it only added to the assumptions in her head.

  “And you told him that you loved him too? Oh, Maya, what have you put yourself in?” She grinned mischievously. “Maya and Tristan sitting in a tree, s-e-x-ing 'til quarter past three—”

  “It was kind of... until four...” I muttered without looking at her.

  “Wow.” She turned back to lean against the boot again. “I'm actually kind of jealous.”