Angie Fox -The Accidental Demon Slayer

by The Accidental Demon Slayer (lit)

  "Watch me, Lizzie," he said, his lips hovering over me.

  I stared at him, unable to speak, as he slowly started to unfasten each white button on my blouse. It felt like huge, honking bottle rockets were going off at the junc­ture between my thighs.

  "Oh please," I croaked, wild with anticipation.

  Dimitri chuckled. He drew back my bra with his thumbs. He caught his breath and his look of wonder brought hot tears to the backs of my eyes. He slowly low­ered his mouth, his eyes fixed on mine as he took one screaming, begging nipple between his teeth. "Oh thank God!" I nearly exploded.

  I wanted him. Now. Naked against me.

  Which meant, oh geez, "Dimitri," I panted. I clutched his head, scooted that awful inch away from him. "We have to stop."

  "Are you trying to kill me?" he gasped against my breasts.

  "Of course not," I said, staring at the ceiling, trying to get a grip. "I may have wanted to maim you a few times, but that's in the past."

  As far as our future together? Well, I didn't know. And there was the problem. As much as I liked to pre­tend I could have a night of blazing hot sex with no consequences, I wasn't the type. Damn, I hated being responsible.

  "We don't need to stop," he murmured, "Stopping is bad." His lips found my other nipple. Another wave of pleasure seized me, sending spirals of heat through me until I was ready to surrender.

  I knew he wasn't just talking about tonight. Some­where along the line, he'd wound himself into my heart—for better or worse. There was no turning back now, no getting him out of my system. I wanted Dimi­tri with me. I wanted this.

  Think. Stop and think.

  I curled my fingers into the bedsheets to keep them from finding his beautiful butt. I was usually more ra­tional. I decided how far to go before he, oh geez, his hands moved to my thighs and I nearly passed out from anticipation. I didn't plan this. But I could touch him a little, right? My hands wandered down his sides. It was like I hadn't had chocolate cake in a year and I couldn't stop with one bite. Only it had been more like two years and he tasted better than super-double-fudge icing and it would be so easy to slide my hand under the waist­band of his Levi's 501s.

  He ground his mouth against mine and I gave my­self up to the sensation. Ribbons of electricity wound through me.

  "Are we stopping?" he whispered against my lips. "I need to know. Now."

  We both inhaled sharply as I slid my fingertips un­der the waistband of his jeans. His skin was super­heated, his breath jerky. It wasn't fair. I had to decide once and for all. I touched the firm flesh of his lower stomach, felt the hair curl under my fingertips, knew if I moved a little more ...

  "No." I slid my fingers beneath his silk boxers. "We're not stopping tonight."

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Hold still," I told him, as I explored rough hair and mmm velvety skin, practically thrumming with antici­pation.

  "Impossible. To do. When you—ahhhh!"

  I slipped my fingers over his enormous length. His cock leaped against his jeans, begging for release. I ran a finger over his tip, already slick and ready.

  He moved against my hand. "You want to play?" He yanked my shirt the rest of the way open, sending but­tons flying.

  "You bonehead! That was my only—"

  "I'll buy you another one," he said, yanking down his Levi's.

  I wriggled out of my khakis before Dimitri decided to shred them. They joined his jeans on the floor, and his boxers. Woo-hoo! He was hard, ready and giving me a standing ovation.

  Nude, he was breathtaking ... rock-solid legs, nar­row hips and shoulders that could haul a truck. He wasted no time stradling me, his hands capturing my wrists above my head, his erection pressed firmly into my panties.

  "Ahh, you and me, Lizzie," he said, blazing a slow trail of kisses across my collarbone, "we belong to­gether."

  "You sound like a Hallmark card," I said, wriggling against him. I didn't want to think. I just wanted to feel.

  "We didn't plan it," he said, finding the sweet spot at thee base of my neck, "but there's no sense denying it."

  Oh, yes there is. I tried to tell him point-blank, but it came out more like, "Oh fargleee yeeees!" In my defense, he'd picked that moment to start rocking back and forth over my most sensitive parts.

  I had no room for a handsome Greek protector in my life, once we killed Vald that is. I couldn't see Dimitri fitting into my old life back in Atlanta. He wasn't the type to argue politics with Cliff, or help run the Happy Hands Preschool picnic. This had to be a one-shot deal. Wham, bam, thank you mister "Zowww!" His tongue found the ultrasensitive nook behind my ear.

  "You," he nipped lower. "Belong with me." Before I could answer, his fingers found the edge of my drenched panties. No fair.

  "My people, we know these things," he whispered.

  His people? Sure, his people. Whatever. Oh God, if only he'd move his fingers an inch to the left. A half inch. A centimeter. Anything. He ran his fingers up and down the edge of my panties, waiting. I tipped my hips up to meet his hand. "Less think-y. More kiss-y."

  "You know you're mine."

  "Whatever you say." I couldn't believe I was actu­ally about to have sex with my studly protector. And his fingers, oh his fingers. He was so close! He hooked a thumb under the edge of my panties and kept it there, no matter what I did.

  Yes, yes. I get it. I'm yours.

  This was cruel and unusual punishment. "What am I going to have to do to get you to cut the chatter?"

  He ripped off my panties and shimmied down my body.

  He ran his hands up the insides of my thighs and spread my legs wide. "Beautiful," he said before I felt his tongue dip inside me.

  I nearly lurched off the bed. His tongue felt hot, brand­ing me from the inside out. My hips—the traitors— thrust up on their own.

  "Patience," he chastised me, before delivering a sin­gle, agonizingly slow lick.

  "Bastard."

  He chuckled and I felt his breath, warm against me, like its own caress. Holy moley, I didn't have a chance. His tongue flicked in and out of me. If he kept this up, I'd never let him go. My insides melted. Glimmering heat wound from between my legs and up ... every­where. I whimpered. I couldn't help it. He dipped a single finger inside of me and I wanted to scream. Fin­gers, tongue, mouth—he never stopped. My world re­volved around the exquisite heat radiating through my body.

  When I didn't think I could take any more, he'd pull back enough, just enough for me to settle down. Then he'd start again, licking, sucking, pushing, demanding. It was too much. I heard myself scream.

  Finally, after I could sop up no more pleasure, he took mercy. He lifted his head, and cast me a wicked grin. "You know you belong with me."

  I swallowed, desperately searching for my non-screaming, panting, whimpering voice.

  "I think I've known for a while," he said absently, as if he wasn't hovering over my quivering girlie bits. "But it hit me like a sucker punch when I thought I'd lost you to the black souls."

  It was hard to think with my whole body pulsing. But he seemed eager for an answer. Okay, so we were smitten. There was no way to know what would hap­pen after tomorrow. I had to return to my normal life. But I knew what I wanted right then and there. "Come here," I said, urging him into my arms. I wanted him, needed him inside me.

  He snaked up my body, pure sin blazing in his eyes. He had to know what that did to me. He was all warm heat and hard muscle.

  "I have to tell you something," he said.

  Oh no. "Now?"

  "Yes. Now." He frowned slightly, tipped my chin up and kissed me hard. His tongue found mine and plea-sure rippled through every place he'd licked and then some. I could kiss him for weeks and still want more. I ground my naked body against his. Harder, faster, slower, I wanted him anywhere and everywhere I could get him. When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.

  "Once my people make love," he said, his lips inches from mine. "We have a hard time—agggggu
h!" My hips found him and pressed the tip of him inside me.

  He was immense and I was drenched. My body grip­ped him, refused to let him go until he finished what he started.

  "Ah," he said, trying to assemble a coherent thought. "I—" His breath jerked in his throat. Clearly, breath­ing was not a priority at the moment. He held me in a vise grip, fighting to keep me, and himself, from mov­ing another inch. "My people," he gasped, holding me in place. "We have a difficult time letting go."

  "Good to know," I managed to say on an exhale. I strained against him, hoping to end any conversation once and for all. But, dang, he was strong. And as far as him not letting go, well, his bad luck he fell for a demon slayer. "Don't forget. I'm going to hell tomor­row," I said, giving it one last wriggle.

  He pulled out and my body screamed in protest.

  "Well, sure you can go to hell," he said, his naked body pressed to mine. His cock hard against my thigh. "But I mean afterward."

  "You know if you hadn't started talking, we'd be boffing our brains out right now."

  "Soon. I'm not the kind of guy," he began. He recon­sidered and simply said, "You need to know what you're getting into."

  I'd already made my decision. Now my body screamed for him to finish what he'd started. "You want me. You need me. I'm yours." For tonight, for as long as I could have him. Or at least until we got back from hell. "Now will you pleeeeze—"

  "What?" He asked, his mock innocence not fooling anybody.

  "Do me," I demanded.

  "With pleasure," he growled, his eyes hot with an­ticipation.

  He opened my thighs and shouted as he slammed into me. I gripped his shoulders, his back, I matched him thrust for thrust. His muscles were tight with strain. Pure exhilaration spiraled through me and stretched taut. I stood on the edge. Heaven knew I'd been close, so close for so long. Dimitri pushed me harder, faster until I fell. Pleasure exploded from between my legs and radiated through me. It was almost too much.

  "Stay with me," Dimitri whispered in my ear, as he continued to push me harder, deeper, faster than I'd ever been. I didn't care if the entire hotel came down around our ears. He ground his mouth over mine, nip­ping my lower lip, my neck, the tip of my ear. Our bod­ies grew slick with sweat. I wrapped my legs around him and felt myself coming again. Sweet pleasure washed over me until all I could do was clutch him and feel it in wave after luscious wave.

  He tensed, thrust two times, hard. He clutched me so tightly that he lifted us both off the bed as he pounded into me one last time. I came again and so did he.

  We collapsed onto the bed, his head buried in the crook of my neck.

  I woke to find Dimitri stroking my arm and sunlight creeping through the light-blocking curtains we'd failed to close the night before. Who knew hot love with Dimitri would be as exhausting as, say, battling a power-hungry werewolf or blasting a few dozen black souls? I snuggled closer, wishing we could spend the day in bed, knowing it was time to meet with the Red Skulls and make our final stand against the demon Vald.

  I played with the springy dark hairs on his chest. "You don't have to go with me."

  "Yes, I do."

  I lifted my head to find him gazing intently at me. He flashed a cocky grin that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.

  What do you say to a guy who'd go to hell and back, just to be with you?

  I wrapped my arms around him. "Kiss me."

  He devoured my mouth. It was like coming home. I ran my hands up his chest and to his shoulders, tight with tension. He kissed me like he was afraid to stop.

  After a long, enjoyable while, he broke away. "Lizzie," he said, mouth brushing mine. "I need to tell you something."

  "Oof." Then he'd better stop thumbing my nipples.

  "Lizzie?" He pulled his hands away. My nipples whimpered in protest. "I've owed you the truth for a while now, but it never seemed to be the right time to tell you."

  My brain swam back through a haze of desire. "And this is the right time?"

  "No," he said ruefully. "But if I don't tell you now, I might not get the chance before," he seemed reluctant to say it, "tonight."

  "Okay. I'm listening," I said, praying it would be some­thing simple, knowing it wasn't.

  "I lied to you," he said, his mouth forming a grim line.

  "About what?" I asked, getting that awful, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that our little love bub­ble was about to pop.

  "I had to do it," he said quickly. "For my sisters."

  Not helping. "What's the lie?" I asked.

  And why did this have to happen while we were buck naked at Motel 6?

  "I'm not your protector," he said simply.

  I stared at him and managed a squeaky "What?"

  "You don't have a protector," he said, as if every word pained him. "You don't need one. The truth is," he cringed as he said it, "I need a slayer."

  The shock of it made my head swim. Dimitri needed me, not the other way around. A horrible thought slammed into my brain. Had he been using me?

  I bolted upright in bed. He'd searched me out. He'd found me. He'd lied to stay close to me. Why? I yanked the sheet up over my breasts.

  What did he really want?

  "I had to do it," he said, reaching for me, fisting his hands when I ducked away from his embrace. "You're the only one who can save my sisters."

  It didn't make any sense. I retreated to the corner of the bed, hauling the covers with me. "But your sisters, they're..."

  "Dead?" He blew out a breath. "Not yet. I need your help. You have to understand—"

  "I don't have to do anything. Of all the sick things to do, you lied about your dead sisters?" He'd planned this from the start. That's why he'd found me on the side of the road. That's why he'd trained me. Who knew if he cared about Grandma? Or me.

  Sure, bang the demon slayer and get what you want. I understood. "You think this is what it takes to get my help?" He didn't have to do this. I would have helped him if I could—for nothing. His emerald glowed hot against my neck. I wished for the hundredth time I could chuck it at his head.

  "You know it's not like that, Lizzie," he insisted. "I mean, it was." He drove a hand through his thick black hair. "Look, it took me years to find a slayer. You. And when I found you, I would have done anything to save my sisters, even seduce you."

  "Not helping."

  "But then I met you and you were different than I expected. Better. Amazing. I had to tell you I was your protector so you'd let me stay close. You can't think ..." he began, reaching for me again, dropping his hand as I scuttled away.

  "Dammit, Lizzie," he said, launching himself at me. He gripped my shoulders and forced me to look at him. "Where we are right now, this isn't a lie." I tried to squeeze out of his grasp, but his fingers dug in until it hurt. "I've been wanting to tell you the truth for days, but I was too scared." His familiar male scent, now tinged with a hint of sex, made me want to run for the hills.

  I glared daggers at him.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. But there was the real possibility that your reaction would be," he indi­cated my current rumpled, angry state, "less than posi­tive."

  "So you had to wait and sleep with me first?"

  "Yes. No! I didn't want anything to come between us anymore. What we have here is incredible and I was sick of lying to you."

  I hated him at that moment. I really hated him. He sure hadn't had trouble lying in the beginning. He'd fooled everybody. "You could have just asked me to help save your sisters."

  "Would you have helped?" he asked.

  I would have liked to think so. But when he met me, I'd never seen a switch star, let alone thrown one. All of a sudden, I wasn't too fond of myself, either.

  "You didn't even know you were a slayer when I found you. My sisters need help now. Every female in my family falls into a coma after her twenty-eighth birthday. They're dead twenty-eight days later." He shook his head ruefully. "I met you with five days to spare. My sisters didn
't have time for you to make up your mind."

  "Well I'm glad you thought of everything." Ex­cept me.

  I wound the sheet around myself. "About your sis­ters, they're not..."

  He shook his head. "Tomorrow. He takes them to­morrow."

  "And that's when you arranged for me to go in," I stated flatly.

  He nodded. "That is why I sought you out. But that's not why I—" He drew back. "You've gotta believe me, Lizzie."

  "Save it."

  I didn't even want my brain to go there. I'd been ig­nored by men before, but never used. I couldn't believe the things he'd made me think and feel. I didn't want to think he'd lie to get me into bed. Then again, I hadn't suspected he'd lie to get me into hell.

  Fighting to swallow the lump in my throat, I tried to be practical. At least we could help his sisters. He didn't deserve it, but they did. "Got any other big se­crets?" I asked.

  He looked guiltier, if that was even possible.

  Un-frickin-believable. 'This is about Grandma, isn't it? The night I met you, you tried to pawn off a murder rap on her. Was that a lie too?"

  He looked as miserable as I felt. Good. "Tell me now or I'll never forgive you."

  He sighed. "I'm sorry, Lizzie. But Gertie did kill your mom."

  "You'd better know more than that. Spill it. Now."

  Lord in heaven, he actually looked sorry for me. "Your mom, Phoenix, I don't know what she was, but supposedly, she was very powerful—a secret weapon against Vald. Unlike you," he said, forcing the words out, "she'd been training her whole life to face him. When the time came, she ran."

  I couldn't believe it. I could understand, but I still couldn't quite think anyone would be that selfish. Then again, hadn't I felt like doing the same thing? "Where did she go?"

  "I don't know. The point is, she left the Red Skulls to face Vald alone. The carnage was unbelievable. They lost everything. The survivors went on the run. Your grandma tracked Phoenix down to an occult shop they owned. There was a confrontation. Gertie made it out alive. Phoenix didn't."

  Fine, so it looked bad.