I followed him as close as I could. We went out the back, where the porch had a beautiful view of a professionally maintained garden with hedges and flowers, with sculpted topiaries framing the moon rising over the Hudson River, and a huge yacht tied up to the pier.
Built into the back wall of the condo, a huge, expansive bar bulged out like some kind of tumour on the building, curving slightly. Behind it, a huge wall full of bottles, most of which were partially empty. What kind of turbo-rich people had their own bar in their house?
It was being staffed by a short, broad a guy, wearing a too-small white shirt stretched over a muscled chest, black hair peeking out from a backwards baseball cap, his eyes obscured by thick aviator glasses.
“That’s Damien,” said Gabe, pointing at the guy behind the bar. “I really wanna meet him when I get a chance.”
“Me too,” I said, watching my mark serve drinks and laugh it up, making stupid jokes and pouring brightly coloured liquid into shot glasses. Our eyes met briefly. He tipped his shades, flashing a broad, confident smile, as though he had figured me all out with a single glance.
He would be easy prey.
Spin the Bottle
Damien’s House
New Jersey
Trying to tune out the loud music, I scrutinised Damien for moment, trying to hear his voice, isolate his scent. There were so many people…it was impossible to get a reading on him, impossible to smell if he was good or not.
“And that’s Tim,” said Gabe, pointing across the party room to a darker corner in the living room, where a gaggle of people were sitting in a friendly, haphazard circle. He vaguely followed the line of his finger. Some guy, lanky and awkward, waved to us both, his legs crossed.
He was distracting me. Annoying me. I tried to keep my attention off him, but his voice—soft and polite, but yet, hinting at a hidden power—drew my attention away from Damien.
Gabe’s finger went around the circle. I kept trying to stop paying attention, with limited success. “And that’s Emily. And Sarah. And Melissa, and Johnathan and Bulldozer.”
That last name tore my attention off from Damien. “Bulldozer?” I asked, incredulously. The person he’d pointed to, I thought, was a massive gorilla of a man, who looked about ten years older than everyone else and must have been at least six feet tall and, seemingly, almost as wide. He was an absolute brick of a guy, but his nervous, shy smile betrayed a much more gentler person underneath. “Why do they call him Bulldozer?”
Gabe stared at me incredulously. “You serious?” He said. “Just look at him. Plus he’s from some weird former-Soviet state, and his real name is impossible to pronounce.”
Fair enough. I sized up the others in short order. Emily was a nerd. Thick glasses, Pokémon t-shirt and slightly chubby figure. Intriguing. Might have to do something with her if I could, she seemed like the type to swing both ways.
Sarah seemed more the sporty type, tall and dark and fit, but more interestingly to me was the purity ring on her hand. Shit, she might as well have painted a massive target right on her arse.
Melissa seemed the quiet mousy type, boring, and she was holding hands with Johnathon, who seemed equally mousey and boring, so I didn’t bother lingering on the two of them.
“Sit with us?” asked Gabe, and I was tempted to actually do it. Damien was my current goal, but there was potential in this group too, and I needed quantity over quality. He wasn’t going anywhere. This was his place, after all.
“Sure,” I said, moving to sit. Everyone shuffled around to make room and the circle widened a bit. “Why not.”
Gabe gave a little playful bow and sat beside me. “Everyone be nice.”
Everyone did that awkward thing where they all kind of smile and say hello all at once.
“Your accent,” asked Emily. “It’s…”
“Australian,” I said. In some ways I wish I didn’t speak this way. It was making me stand out.
“Are you here to play?” asked Emily, smiling at me a little shyly.
I blinked in confusion. Had I missed a piece of the conversation? My thoughts were stuck on Damien and how I would extract whatever information I could from him. “Play?”
A playful little titter came across everyone. Bulldozer and Emily laughed especially loudly, the two of them exchanging an extended, almost hopeful, look. I could tell they were into each other.
“Spin the bottle,” said Gabe, a little shyly.
“Isn’t that game for teenagers?” I asked, confused, trying to act the part. “I haven’t played that since…” well, not ever, since the last time I came to the mortal realm was a long time ago, but they didn’t need to know that. “Since forever.”
“Drunken college students are basically sober teenagers,” said Gabe, a point I could hardly refute. “And college students with tequila are basically drunken teenagers. With all that implies.”
Gabe kept making these smart points, and it made me annoyed. Especially with how goodly he smelled. “Okay,” I said, giving a playful little grin, unable to avoid a little fun. I was a succubus after all. “Let’s play.”
Emily clapped her hands excitedly, jumping up and practically skipping over to a cupboard, withdrawing a board-game box, and from within, she withdrew a large folded square mat. In the box was an oversized dice; my keen eyes picked up inscriptions with various “tasks” on each face.
Kiss
Kiss (lips)
7 Mins. In Heaven
Talk dirty to the subject
Touch their butt
Get naked, 2 minutes or longer
Interesting stuff. The music shifted to being some kind of techno-reggae-punk-fusion.
“Let’s use this one,” said Emily, awkwardly unfolding the thing and spreading it out on the ground. She, like all of us, kept her voice raised to talk over the music. “Damien said it was okay.”
Johnathon reached behind him and retrieved a bottle. Apparently he had a large stockpile back there. He rolled it into the centre of all of us, and Emily drunkenly leaned over and put her hand on it.
“I’ll spin to see who starts,” said Melissa, squeezing her boyfriend’s hand—they seemed like they were a couple, who knew?—and reaching out for the bottle. “Whoever it points to, they spin the bottle. Then they throw the giant dice to see what they do. Right?”
“Yup!”
Seemed easy enough. Melissa put her hand on the bottle and twisted it. The bottle clattered as it spun around, nearly ten times, coming to stop on Bulldozer. Emily looked hopeful. Nervously, she leaned over and tossed the dice onto the mat. It stopped on Kiss (lips), 10 seconds.
“Ooooh,” said everyone. That was a fun one.
Bulldozer shyly leaned over and with his massive hand, spun the bottle again. It clinked, jumping around nearly twenty times—around and around and around—until finally it landed back on Laila. The girl with the purity ring. She looked to Emily for what I could only assume was support, nervously spinning the ring on her finger.
Emily looked distinctly disappointed, barely able to mask her concern. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she protested, sounding distinctly feeble.
“Nah, do it,” I said, unable to keep the evil demon-urges within me at bay. “We gotta do what the bottle says…”
With obvious reluctance, Laila leaned in towards Bulldozer. Bulldozer leaned in toward Laila. They kind of awkwardly hovered there for a moment, and then kissed the most awkward, unsexy kiss in the whole history of the world, ever.
Everyone began to count. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…” they kept it up, to their credit. “Five, four, three, two, one!”
The pair of them broke off, shuffling awkwardly back into their places. A glass broke somewhere in the background, leading to raucous cheers. Taxi! Taxi!
“Okay,” said Laila, obviously trying to suppress a nervous stutter. “I-I guess it’s my turn to spin.”
Around and around the bottle went, nearly sliding off and breaking, but a quick swat
by Johnathan returned it to the centre of the circle.
It ended up on Emily again. Once again, she exchanged a brief, hopeful look toward Bulldozer, which was reciprocated.
Emily picked up the dice. It ended up on Talk dirty to the subject. Less interesting, especially given how loud it all was, but she dutifully spun the bottle.
It ended up on Laila. The poor girl put her hands on her face, obviously shocked.
“It likes you,” I said, enjoying watching her suffer.
Emily climbed over the mat toward Laila, leaning over and cupping her mouth, whispering into the other girl’s ear. Laila squirmed uncomfortably, emitting a loud squeal, the fidgeting of her ring becoming a frantic spinning.
I would have liked to hear what Emily said, but the pounding music and boisterous crowd drowned it all out, even from my senses.
“That’s going on my tumblr,” said Jonathan, grinning like some kind of extremely happy cat.
“Your turn,” I said to Laila. “Spin it up.”
With a shaky, trembling hand, she did so. It rattled, spun, and then ended up on me.
“Ooh, it’s the new girl,” said Jonathan, and all at once, the atmosphere of the game changed. Every eye was on me.
Carefully, I reached out for the dice, showing off my curves as I did so, and tossed it.
7 Mins. In Heaven
Laila squeaked and shook her head firmly, her face showing that she was really not keen. “I can’t, sorry. Pass. Pass…”
Everyone’s excitement deflated slightly, but that was okay. I had plenty of time to work at her; few could genuinely resist the efforts of a succubus. “No worries,” I said, deliberately injecting comfort into my voice to put her at ease. “I’ll catch you later.” I winked and spun the bottle again.
Round and round it went, seeming like it would never stop. Then it slowed and finally became still.
Pointing at Gabe.
Seven Minutes in Heaven
Damien’s House
New Jersey
The bottle pointed straight to Gabe. Everyone laughed, except him, who seemed a little embarrassed.
But I wasn’t going to let his sheepishness get in the way of a little fun. “A’right,” I said, standing up out of the circle and nodding toward to the cupboard. “Let’s go, Gabe.”
He stood too. “You sure? We barely know each other.”
I put my hand on my hip, giving a playful little smile. “Believe me, it’s totally fine. This isn’t my first time playing.” I stepped forward, slipping my hand around his waist and firmly tugging him along beside me. “Seven minutes, guys. Set a clock.”
Melissa pulled out her phone and set it. Seven minutes.
I led Gabe toward the cupboard, pulled open the door, and shoved him in, closing it behind me, muffling some of the pounding music outside. The loud party seemed almost a world away. Damien’s place had cupboards the size of some people’s bedrooms, so we had plenty of room.
Gabe smiled sheepishly at me. “Hey, you know, I don’t know what other people did in the other games you’ve played at this, but—”
“We had sex,” I told him, bluntly as I could. “A lot of sex.”
That didn’t seem to disturb him much. “I figured.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?” I ever-so-casually ran my finger down the frame of the cupboard door. “You don’t wanna fuck me?”
Gabe’s little smile showed me that he did more than any words he could say. “I just want to make sure that you’re fully consenting to all this,” he said. “There’s alcohol, peer pressure…it’s okay if we just chill here. I’ll even tell people we did stuff if that’s what you’re asking.”
I smiled like a big ole’ shark scenting blood. “Does it look like that’s what I want?”
“No, it does not,” said Gabe. I got the impression he was honest like this all the time.
“Tick tock, we’re wasting my seven minutes here,” I said, trailing up to him in the cramped cupboard, casually slipping my hands around his waist. “Look, I get it. You’re a good guy…not normally my type, but fine. I’ll start you off with something real gentle…” I stepped forward, moving to kiss him.
Gabe casually held up a finger, putting it in front of my lips.
There was a brief spark of something as I kissed his finger. Normally I could sense a person’s goodness or wickedness with a kiss, but it had to be on the lips, so I got nothing. Regardless, I felt…something.
It was probably the smell of goodness around him, interfering with everything.
“Maybe something else,” he said. “Not much for kissing.”
“Neither am I,” I said, casually, teasingly, and I slid my body down his, until my head was positioned about groin height. The scent of good drifting out from him intensified. “Unless it’s a little…lower.”
I expected him to tense up or get all shy, but instead he just casually rested his hand on my shoulder, gripping gently. That was what I liked to see…a little confidence. I reached for his zipper teasingly.
“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked as I yanked it down.
“We basically have to,” I said, purring gently and slipping my hand into his jeans, having a feeling around. “That’s internationally recognised Spin The Bottle law. I don’t make the rules, buddy.”
“Haha,” said Gabe, shifting slightly as I touched his sensitive areas. “That’s…true enough, I suppose.”
I casually pulled out what I found, grinning up at him. “Just think. For the two of us here, right at this moment, a star had to explode in order to create the heavy elements that make up our bodies. Those dust particles had to come together, completely unguided, in this specific way, at this specific time, so that I could suck your dick in a rich guy’s cupboard.”
Gabe raised an eyebrow at that, giving my shoulder a playful squeeze. “Who am I to stand in the way of scientific progress?” he asked.
“That’s one way to put it,” I said, leaning forward and giving his bits a nice, firm kiss.
The scent of good stung my nose, but otherwise, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I’d feared. I was unaccustomed to it, especially not in such…intensity. Back in the pit, everyone down there was pretty evil. One didn’t get sent to Hell for nothing. But here there were good souls, and that was something I hadn’t anticipated in a long time.
And the taste. Warm and salty and rich, but not too much. It was actually really good.
Now, at long last, I understood why demons tried to tempt good mortals down to the pit. They were delightful.
I wanted more. So I got it. And all within seven minutes.
And it was really, really good.
Tastes like Salt, Smells like Evil
Damien’s House
New Jersey
When I stepped, giggling, out of the cupboard, I stumbled into a weird argument the rest of the players were having.
“You’re comparing apples to oranges,” said Jonathan, frustration building in his voice.
“I never understood that,” said Emily, slurring her words slightly. “Why can’t you compare different types of fruit?”
Nobody was more zen than a sorority girl on her forth martini. “A’right, fuckers,” I said, grinning as I stepped back to my position in the circle. “That was fun.”
Gabe stepped out behind me, grinning sheepishly. At least he’d remembered to do up his fly.
All eyes fell on me, although Emily kept glancing at Gabe, too. I think, on some level, she wished she’d been picked instead of me—even if she really liked Bulldozer. Girl had needs. I’d definitely have to get her number so I could have a stab at her.
“What did you guys do in there?” asked Laila, leaning in toward me, her tone hushed so low I could barely hear it over the music. She was still fiddling with her purity ring. “We heard…noises.”
I put my face close to hers, my lips barely an inch away from hers. The stench of her goodness hit my nose. It was good like Gabe’s, but…different. Not anywh
ere near as powerful and…well, very strange. “Well…” I barely whispered the words, breathlessly and husky. “We did a few things, like…this.” I leaned forward and kissed her.
The scent of her goodness intensified right before my lips made contact with hers, but when they did, I could taste her. She was like expensive perfume over body odour. The purity ring, the shyness…all of these things were an act. She might be genuinely squicked by sex and romance, but there were things in her heart that were wicked. One of the seven sins was there. It wasn’t wrath, or lust, but…something else. Greed, possibly. No. Something else…then it hit me.
Pride.
Laila genuinely thought she was better than everyone. All the pieces clicked into place. The whole reason she was at this party was to make fun of them in her head. To imagine them going to hell and being tormented.
I’d have to make sure that when she was thrown into the pit, that she went to my corner.
Laila broke the kiss, pulling her head back in surprise.
“It’s just a kiss,” I said, playfully.
That didn’t seem to be what she was complaining about. She wiped her mouth curiously, staring at me. “It tastes like…salt?”
I waggled my eyebrows, grinning wickedly. “It’s just a kiss,” I echoed, flicking my eyes to Gabe’s groin.
Slowly, slowly, realization dawned all over Laila’s face.
“Oh my God,” she said, standing and shaking her head. “No, I have to get out of here!” Her face became an angry mask and she wheeled on the group. “I tried giving you a chance, but you’re all filthy sinners. This is disgusting! You’re disgusting!” She jabbed a finger around the circle wildly. “You’re disgusting! And you’re disgusting! And you’re disgusting!” Her finger lingered on me. “And you’re especially disgusting! Go to hell!”
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