by Colin Sims
I looked at her, not understanding.
She nodded and pointed down at the park. “You’re afraid of heights,” she said. “But you seem fine right now.”
Huh. She was right. Normally I would’ve been totally bugging out standing on the edge of a roof like this. I hadn’t even thought about it this time.
“It’s not that bad,” I said. “I guess I was a little distracted. Speaking of which, you said that earlier you were distracted by something.”
“When?” she asked.
“When you were talking about the spider woman thing.’”
“Oh. That.”
“So? What was it?”
She blew out a breath. “A boy,” she said simply. “He’s been driving me crazy and he’s kind of clueless.”
“Like, ‘good crazy?’” I asked.
Her shoulder rubbed against mine. “What do you think?”
I thought a lot of things—one of which was: Why, François, can you not just turn your stupid head, lean in a little, and kiss this ridiculously awesome girl who clearly wants you to? (I also thought about the Hubble Space Telescope. It just slipped in there somehow.)
Then there was another awkward silence. Can you believe that? Another one. A second chance. And you know what I did with it? Nothing. It then occurred to me that this was one of those cringe-worthy moments I’d remember for the rest of my life. I’d be taking a shower thirty years from now, remember that time on the roof with Cassie and then wince at how incredibly stupid I was.
After a moment, she took my hand again. “Come on,” she said. “I have a better idea.” She pulled me back to the rooftop exit and took out her key. She muttered something under her breath and opened the lock. I didn’t quite understand what I was looking at until I stepped inside. The door led to an indoor pool—totally dark, except for the soft light shimmering up from the water. Cassie followed me through and shut the door behind us. The click echoed across the wide, windowed walls, which looked out over the Manhattan skyline.
“It’s closed to guests past ten,” she said, walking ahead of me. “It’s all ours now.”
When she walked, she put one foot directly in front of the other, which did something amazing with her hips. She then casually lifted her shirt over her head and undid her ponytail. Her hair cascaded down her back as she half turned to look over her shoulder with her eyes. “Coming?”
I gulped. She was naked from the waist up, save for a pair of thin straps at her shoulders. “You mean in the water?” I asked.
Now, if you’re thinking that was a stupid question, you’re correct. It was a very stupid question. But I’m going to warn you that at this juncture you shouldn’t expect anything from me approaching eloquence. If I so much as manage to string three words together, you should be incredibly impressed.
“Um, yeah?” Cassie frowned a little. Somehow it was like she was smiling at the same time though.
“Okay,” I said, but I still didn’t move. It felt like my feet were firmly planted in a bed of concrete. Once it was clear they weren’t going to start working any time soon, Cassie gave a little snort. “I guess when you’re ready,” she said and her hands moved to her waist. I could tell in the darkness she was unbuttoning her shorts. Then they were sliding down her legs and pooled at her feet.
She gave me another look over her shoulder before diving gracefully into the pool. Her head reemerged from the water with her long hair slicked back with allure. After a moment, she said, “Come on, jump in. I won’t bite.”
I drew a breath and suddenly my feet were working again. I peeled off my shirt and hopped on each foot to pull off my jeans. My shoes proved problematic at the end, so they, my socks and my jeans came off as one. I should also mention—most importantly—that some days I wear tighty whities, while other days I wear boxers. Today—thank God—I wore boxers.
I jumped into the water feet first and got my hair wet. When I came back up, Cassie was noticeably closer.
“So,” she said. “Do you like my pool?”
My eyes widened. “Is this like your apartment or something?”
That was another stupid question. The bottom of the pool, which was lighted, had a hotel logo for Le Parker Meridian emblazoned across its surface. However, I should remind you of what I just mentioned: Don’t expect anything intelligent to come out of my mouth for quite a while.
Cassie, for her part, looked amused and cocked her head. “I could probably tell you anything right now and you’d believe it, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
“So if I told you my intentions weren’t entirely honorable, would you believe that?”
I nodded.
“Good. Because they’re not.”
She suddenly pushed away and swam to the other end of the pool. She was—of course—an expert swimmer and glided through the water like a dolphin. I followed, but with a lot of flailing limbs and splashing. When we got to the other side we both had to tread water to stay afloat. She couldn’t have been more than three feet away and I noticed the slight curve of her breasts peeking just above the waterline. I stared, but only because looking at her eyes was even more dangerous.
“Can I ask you something?” she said after a moment. She dipped her chin and a tiny spray came from her breath.
“Sure,” I said.
“Do you want me?”
I had a slight suspicion that she already knew the answer to that. Yet sometimes it needs to get asked anyway. Especially when the guy is an idiot.
“I do,” I said.
Her chin ducked again. “Then why haven’t you kissed me?”
“Just nervous, I guess.”
She gave me a small smile and rose a little taller in the water. “I told you. You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m nice.”
“It’s not that.”
“François, you know this is cruel and unusual, right? I’ve been trying to kiss you since the night we met.”
“You have?”
“I have.”
She’d been steadily drifting closer as we spoke. There was something vaguely intimidating about it.
“So remember what I told you on the Ferris wheel?” she asked.
I frowned and told her I didn’t remember anything about anything at this particular moment.
She grinned and inched closer. “I can’t kiss you unless you give me permission,” she said.
“Because you’re a succubus,” I said.
“It makes life suck sometimes.”
“I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want to kiss you,” I said.
She gave me a look.
“What?” I asked.
“Ugh, François! If you don’t kiss me in the next two seconds, I’m going to hurt you!”
So I did.
Her lips met mine and tasted vaguely of strawberries and fresh rain. Her head tilted aggressively until we were kissing sideways and I felt her breasts against my chest. I struggled to stay afloat as my right hand slid down her back until my fingers met a tiny clasp. They fumbled at it, but failed. Cassie smiled into our kiss and giggled, “Need some help?”
“No, I’ve got it,” I said.
Her grin widened and she leaned back in.
Unfortunately, I never did “get it.” I could only concentrate on one thing at a time. There was no room to solve the blasted Rubik’s Cube of the bra clasp while Cassie’s tongue wrestled with mine. And I have to admit, up until that point in my life, I’d never understood why people—usually girls—say, “you’re a good kisser.” I mean, is it really a skill? Well, apparently, yes. Cassie was phenomenal at it. It took everything I had just to keep up with her.
Eventually, we drifted back to the shallow end where Cassie’s feet found the bottom before mine. (Which was embarrassing.) Then, still kissing, she pushed forward until my back was against the poolside. Her hands slipped off my shoulders and roamed down my sides. They slid gently into the waistband of my boxers, and with a sudden strength, jerked them down.
I’ll be honest—it made me jump a little. Did she really want to go all the way, right here, in the middle of the pool?
She continued sliding them down until she lifted her leg and finished the job with her foot. For some reason—perhaps it was instinct—I stepped out of them. It took a few seconds, but I soon realized that I was officially completely naked in the pool. Cassie still had her underwear on. It wasn’t fair.
However, I didn’t get any time to balance the scales. Her lips moved from mine down to my neck, then my chest, kissing their way to my stomach before disappearing below the waterline. I felt a small peck on each thigh, and then … nothing. I looked down and saw Cassie gliding away under the water. Her body was slick as a seal as she lightly kicked her legs. When she resurfaced a few yards away, she had the biggest, evil grin on her face I’d ever seen.
“You are so in trouble,” she said, almost singing the words like a taunt.
I was about to ask why, when her hand rose above the water, clutching my dripping shorts.
“Can I have those back?” I asked.
She shook her head and then disappeared below the water. I didn’t react until I saw she was heading for the steps. When she reemerged, she was already halfway out—dripping and swaying her hips with each step.
She’s not planning on …?
Oh no. She scooped up our clothes in a single swoop and then glanced between me and the exit. The implication was very clear. I made a mad dash to scramble out of the water and yelped, “Don’t even think about it!”
“Don’t even think about what?” she asked innocently.
With that, she made a beeline for the exit and burst through. A shaft of light exploded into the room. I ran after her stark naked and dripping. When I got to the door, I stopped. I had nothing to wear. No towel. No underwear. Nothing. Not even my socks.
I stuck my head out and peaked around the corner. The hallway was brightly lit, yet mercifully empty. Except, of course, for Cassie who was skipping away in her underwear. It was wet and clung to her backside in a way that would’ve tempted the devil himself. Then she turned and skipped backwards. The view from the front was even better. She saw me staring and her eyes flashed back in a silent dare.
Normally, I might have hesitated a bit longer, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. It was either follow Cassie now, or get discovered by a hotel employee tomorrow morning. (Then, mostly likely, get arrested.)
I left the security of the doorway and did my best to cover myself as I ran. Cassie turned and put her long legs to use, flying down the hallway like a gazelle. She gained another thirty feet before dipping around a corner.
I whisper-shouted for her to stop, as if that might actually work. When I rounded the bend, she was right there. I ran straight into her and my momentum twirled us both against a wall and we were kissing again. It took all of .01 seconds before I forgot all about the “stealing my clothes” thing. My fingertips found the clasp again, but failed for a second time.
I thought: Damn!
Then there was a sudden ding and the sound of elevator doors opening. Cassie pulled me with her until we were inside. I felt one of her hands leave my waist and frantically stab at the buttons. The doors closed and we slammed against the wall. Our hands were everywhere. I was also coming to realize that Cassie Chu was quite a bit stronger than me. And I’m not talking about “athletic” strong, either. I’m talking about “can lift a school bus over her head,” strong. Which—I’ll admit—was a little frightening.
The ding sounded again, followed by the doors opening. I expected to get yanked outside again—when instead, Cassie immediately let go and jumped back. I heard a sudden gasp.
So, remember how I told you about “cringe-worthy” moments that you’ll remember for the rest of your life? Well now, I’d just acquired two in a single night.
On the other side of the open door was a short, elderly lady in her nightgown delicately carrying an ice bucket. Her face was pure shock. I did my best to ameliorate the situation.
“It’s, uh, not what it looks like,” I said.
My hands had both moved to cover myself as best as possible. Cassie had done the same. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
We went down a single floor before the lady got out and scurried down the hall. When the doors closed after her, Cassie and I burst into laughter. I had to prop myself against the wall just to stay upright. When the doors opened again, I managed to ask her where we were going.
“I’ll let you work that out for yourself,” she said, and took me by the hand.
She pulled me down the hall until we stopped outside a pair of doors. A room key appeared and then we were inside.
I can’t really tell you what the hotel suite looked like, other than to say it had a really nice bed. Cassie pushed me onto it and pounced like a jungle cat. I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow details (that was not a pun, by the way), other than to say it was the most intense night of my life. Cassie—while usually quite friendly—allowed her succubus side to take over. To say that she was a tad “aggressive,” might be a bit of an understatement. Still, the sight of her finally undoing that clasp behind her back turned me to putty in her hands. She’d been sitting up tall, straddling my waist when she asked, “Are you ready?”
I thought that I was, but then I learned a thing or two about what it’s like to be with a girl who could literally pick up an elephant and throw it at you. It was no joke. No joke indeed.
When it was all over—several hours later—I was a wreck. I could’ve snapped my fingers and fallen asleep in an instant. Yet I found myself fighting to stay awake. Cassie was pressed against my side, her head on my chest and her leg hooked possessively over mine. The feel of the curves of her body was like heaven on Earth.
Sleep, however, is a powerful force. Fighting against it is always a losing battle. Yet before it overtook me, Cassie’s voice drifted up to my ear in the dark. She quietly asked if I was still awake.
I told her I was, but that was only half-true. I was right on the precipice of a deep, magnificent slumber. Still, I heard her whisper, “Thanks. By the way.”
“Hm?” I asked.
“For saving my life,” she said.
Her grip tightened a little, and her cheek readjusted against my chest. My arm moved up to her shoulder.
“Anytime,” I told her.
Chapter Nine
The Great Man’s Cathedral
Meagan Goodman was the first girl I ever slept with. I’d had a girlfriend in high school, but never made it past first base. Anyway, I noticed that after sleeping with Meagan I seldom felt very refreshed the next morning. Usually, that was because I didn’t sleep very much on those nights. The other reason was her insistence on keeping the bed nuclear hot with eighteen different blankets. (I’m exaggerating. It was more like nine or ten.) There were even times when I felt like I had the flu afterwards.
Yet when I woke up next to Cassie that next morning, I felt like a million bucks. Or maybe a billion. I could’ve taken on the entire world and had energy to spare—so much so that I began to suspect something supernatural at work. Perhaps I was experiencing the magic of being with a succubus. But weren’t they supposed to drain magic from people? I figured I’d ask her when she woke up—which happened to be only a few seconds after me. Her voice was still raspy from sleep as she lifted her cheek and smiled.
“Hey there, cowboy.”
“Hey yourself,” I said. “So last night was, uh …”
“Awesome. I know.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Very awesome.”
“What can I say?” she said. “I’ve got skills. Speaking of which, what are your thoughts on early morning trysts?”
“I tend to be for them,” I said.
She smiled broadly, but didn’t move. She just stared at me for a long moment, her eyes searching like she was expecting something.
“What?” I asked.
“You have to kiss me,” she answered. “The whole ‘asking permission’ thi
ng resets with every sunrise. It’s annoying.”
“Oh,” I said.
“So?” The expectant look returned.
After I kissed her, it was on—big time. Her face surged forward and the succubus side took over again. She flipped on top and before I knew it, her hips were rolling against mine. Then her pace quickened until … okay. I was going to say something about the sound of skin slapping on skin, but it’s probably best to leave out those kinds of details. This isn’t a porno, after all.
So, fast-forward about an hour—or it could’ve been more—and Cassie and I were staring up at the ceiling catching our breath.
“You know,” she panted. “For someone who is so shy, you’re really good at this.”
“You did most of the work,” I said.
“You did plenty,” she chuckled back. “Besides.” She rolled onto her side and propped up her chin. “You’re quite, um … impressive.”
I turned my head, still panting. “Impressive?”
Her eyes flicked to the side and then back with a hint of devilment. “Down below.”
Oh.
It’s a plain and simple fact that there isn’t a single guy on the entire planet who doesn’t like to hear that. And it never gets old either. He can hear it over and over and over and over and each time is as good as the first.
“Thanks,” I said.
“I should be thanking you. I haven’t been able to do something like this in forever.”
I rolled onto my side to face her. “Really?”
I was suddenly curious about Cassie’s supernatural love life. Had she slept with other guys before? I mean, she must have, but didn’t she say something about not wanting to hurt anyone? I still didn’t understand how the whole “succubus” thing truly worked.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “It’s been torture. We succubi kind of enjoy sex. Obviously.”
“So how does it work?” I asked.
She gave me a look. “How does what work?”
“I mean when you sleep with someone, isn’t it supposed to be really dangerous? Like, for the guy? Because of the succubus thing?”
“For non-magic guys, sure. Probably fatal.”