This demon had me both coming and going.
He leaned with his bare, left arm braced against my doorframe. The pose emphasized his tattoos, scars and muscles. I paused to admire all three.
Ash has muscles on his muscles. They flex and shift with his slightest move. He could sleep and I wouldn't get tired of the view.
The tattoo covering his left arm and shoulder is Celtic in appearance. It marks the sign of his sin. Each Demon Lord has their own sin. Ash hasn't told me his. Yet.
The tattoo is comprised of mostly black lines, both wide and thin, with reddish flames intertwined. It ends near his neck where the scars take off. The scars continue up his neck and alongside his cheek and around his left eye.
Some of these scars are thick and raised.
A few weeks ago Ash and I went through a period where we had to work through some relationship issues. As he is a hot-headed demon and I'm a defensive witch that included Ash setting me on fire.
I now put on Flame Away each morning. Shower, lotion, Flame Away, clothes.
Ash hasn't quite gotten over the fact he nearly burned me to death. He's been torn between keeping me safe and thinking I would be better off without him. As a result, he has been practically shoving his physical scars in my face. And limiting his make out moves.
Hence both my desire and my frustration. And my stress eating.
I've been bullied and taunted my whole life for what I am. I could never do the same to Ash. Not for being what he is.
Demons heat up with the stronger emotions. It's something I've learned to love and live with.
I'm a mortal witch who catches on fire without spells or Flame Away. It's something Ash is still trying to come to terms with.
The rest of Ash was pretty much par for his course. Heavy biker boots, tight jeans, leather vest and head wrap. The only things that varied with his wardrobe were the color of his vests and the style of head wrap.
Ash always wore his vests without a shirt and a simple lace holding the vest together, leaving large sections of his upper torso exposed. I had absolutely no complaints.
He used the various head wraps to conceal his horns and limit the amount of human hysteria. I didn't have any complaints about that either.
"Kate." His voice alone could seduce me. Deep and laced with equal parts determination and dark desires.
"Ash." My voice trembled just a little. I loved his determination and couldn't wait for him to unleash those dark desires.
I'd sort of cursed myself with my own wand in that regard though. I'd had this great plan to force Ash to see he couldn't hurt me if I wore Flame Away. All I had to do was get him all fired up. So, I gave him an epic blow job.
He'd walked away.
Actually walked right out of my apartment. No "thank you". No "you blew my mind as well as my dick". No "your turn, baby".
He got mad and walked out.
I'd sort of forgotten demons don't like to lose control. My bad.
Ash had been controlling our intimate time ever since.
I really, really, really wanted my turn.
Ash has a dark and slightly kinky side to his nature. I'm drawn to that side like the proverbial moth to the flame. My witch to his hellfire.
Bring it on, baby.
I took a step back. "Come in."
Ash managed to brush his body against most of mine as he walked by. It wasn't lack of space, but deliberate seduction.
There was no need. He had me by the full broom.
"So, what did you kill?"
"Ya killed someone?" I hadn't heard the Chihuahua approach I'd been so focused on the demon.
"No." Ash took a seat on my new couch. He stretched his long legs out and rolled his powerful shoulders. As if he was tired. "I killed some quails."
Al and I looked at each other. "Quails?" I searched my brain. "Isn't that a type of bird? With a funny teardrop thingy over its head?" I waved my hand over my forehead to indicate the general area.
"Yes." Ash rolled his neck. "Drake and I each got six."
I took in the large badass demon in leathers sitting on my couch. I'd been picturing an Elk or a water buffalo or a wooly yak. A quail seemed so . . . Not what a demon would hunt.
"Aunt Tabs said she loved roasted quail."
Aha. Working on winning Aunt Tabs over. Made sense.
"What type of gun did you use?"
I frowned down at Al. He was causally licking one tiny paw. Playing it cool. I'm sure it was killing him. But it wasn't often he got a chance to talk guns or hunting. Never mind the prey was a bird.
Al missed it. Once a hit-man, always a hit-man.
I'm learning to live with it.
"A Beretta over and under shotgun."
Al's ears shot forward. "That's a nice gun."
I scooped him up before they could move onto bullets and gun cleaning techniques. It was nice to have Ash and Al conversing politely instead of threatening each other, but I wanted some alone time with the demon.
"Be right back." I cuddled Al against my chest. He nuzzled my left breast. I thought I caught a glimpse of tiny teeth aimed in Ash's direction. I know I heard Ash growl as we left the room.
I set Al down in my bed, pulled his doggy blanket over, threw my panties tangled in the blanket into the laundry basket where he couldn't get at them, and smooched his tiny head.
"Be good."
"I'm better than good, Doll. Better than any demon." He licked my lips.
I sighed. "I love you, Al."
I shut the door tightly on my way out.
Ash was in the exact same position. Somehow, now, with it being just the two of us, he seemed more dangerous. Not threatening, just not tame either. A powerful beast just waiting to be set loose.
I shivered. Oh, baby, baby.
Ash lifted one big hand, palm up. "Come here, Kate."
I almost tripped over my feet in my rush.
The minute his skin touched mine, I had a moment's pause. Ash had been way too controlling lately. Too determined to force his will over mine.
As he pulled me down onto his lap I pressed my hands against his chest. Leather and heated skin met my touch.
"Ash, we need to talk." His large hands settled on either side of my waist. "I've told you I'm sorry. We need to move on. I didn't mean to make you angry when I was just trying to prove a point. Plus, you got a pretty amazing blow job, if I do say so myself."
I honestly could not believe he was still grumpy about that.
Ash's hands tightened just before he lifted me with casual strength. "Straddle me."
I thought about the extra weight I might have been putting on lately. Ash didn't seem to notice.
I moved my legs so I was kneeling over him, one knee bent on either side of his thick thighs. My thighs spread open and pressed over his groin, my point totally forgotten.
Ash slid his hands up my back. He pressed my chest against his, tangled his hands in my curls and tugged my head back until our eyes met.
My brown to his heated amber.
Ash leaned his head down until our noses almost touched. His words were a hot whisper of breath over my lips. "But, Kate, I'm not done punishing you yet. You were a very bad witch."
Well, I certainly wouldn't have given him an amazing blow job if I was a really good witch.
I didn't get a chance to make my point. Ash pressed his lips to mine. His tongue slid in and began a duel I wanted to lose. I liked Ash's dominant side. I craved it.
He tightened his grip in my hair, causing a slight sting and I gasped into him. He released my curls and nipped at my lower lip. I gasped again.
His hands slipped back to my sides and then up until they pressed just below my breasts. I clenched my fingers into his vest waiting for him to move his hands and touch me.
He stroked one thumb up over my left breast, just grazing my nipple, but not enough for me to actually feel his touch. A little tease.
He did the same with his other thumb.
His hip vibrated under my thigh.
For a moment I thought I'd had a mini orgasm. I was telling myself I was way too easy when his hip vibrated again.
Ash growled, thrust one hand under my ass to lift me and used the other to dig his phone out of his pocket.
I crossed my arms over my chest and thought about growling back.
Ash swiped his thumb over the screen and checked his message.
My eyes just about popped out of my head. I was sitting on his lap and he was checking messages? Various spells for causing a plethora of irritations were running through my head when I happened to catch a glimpse of his screen.
I stiffened.
Ash ran a soothing hand up my back. "I'm sorry, Kate. I've got to go."
"You're leaving? Now?"
He ran his fingers down the side of my cheek. Pressed his thumb over my lips.
"I have to."
"I don't suppose you're planning to tell me where you're going or why?" I mumbled the question against his skin.
I knew the answer already. We'd played out this exact same scene countless times.
Ash stood and lifted me in the same motion. Comfortable in his strength and his power.
He set me down, kissed me hard. "I'll call you tomorrow."
Two seconds later he walked out of my apartment.
Usually, Ash argues with me more. He gets testy when I question him. I'd thought it was more male ego than anything. I didn't like it that he hid something from me, but I hadn't been overly concerned. I'd figured it would all come out as our relationship developed.
I'd have to reconsider that.
Ash had definitely been bothered about something.
And my name had been in that text.
4. My First Plan Fails.
I pressed the button to start the coffee maker, then leaned heavily against the counter.
My mind had been way too busy the night before to allow for sleep. I wasn't a happy witch.
1. I like my sleep. I don't function well without it.
2. I still didn't have a clue as to what kind of trouble Désirée was in.
3. I also didn't know how to track down my scary witch relative, break the curse and kill her.
4. I didn't know what to do to help Morgan.
5. I had absolutely no idea as to why my name would be in a text to Ash that would send him rushing out my door.
Basically, you could say I hadn't made any progress what-so-ever on the current issues in my life.
And I had lost sleep over it all too.
Like I said, I was not a happy witch.
"Mornin', Doll."
I grunted back at him as we headed out of the apartment and down the stairs. I'd greet him properly after I had a cup of caffeine.
Al nudged my leg when he was done and we headed back up the stairs.
The coffee was ready so I poured a tiny amount into Al's bowl and an oversized mug for me. I added a fair amount of creamer into both.
I sat in a chair at my kitchen table. Al sat on the table.
"Ya think Drake and Ash would take me huntin' the next time they go?"
I blinked at him. Knowing Al, he was envisioning himself with a gun, shooting along with the guys.
Most dogs on hunting trips retrieve the birds. I'm pretty sure Chihuahuas aren't considered your typical hunting dog. Plus, I figured most of the birds would outweigh him.
I took another sip of coffee. Stalling, while I tried to get my brain to function well enough for a response that wouldn't crush him.
I know he's a dog. I'm pretty sure Al knows he's a dog. I also know he is incredibly stubborn and totally resistant to reality. As in, he's a dog.
A really small one at that.
"Doll?"
"I, uh, well," I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. "I think you should ask Drake or Ash. I have no idea what their hunting plans are."
At this time, I would like to point out that I was not doing my usual ostrich routine and burying my head in the sand. Truly.
I had my game plan firmly in mind in regards to confronting issues head on. I was going to confront Désirée this morning and Ash when I saw him next. See? No ducking and dodging.
I was simply delegating.
****
I got to Love Required a good half an hour before Désirée Norma-Sue. I was on time. She was late.
I'm not a strict boss so I didn't sweat it. Although, I have to admit I didn't know that about myself. I've never had an employee before.
However, it did give me a good opening for finding out what exactly was going on and what had her so spooked.
When Désirée Norma-Sue did arrive, she was totally flustered and out of breath. A flustered fairy's sparkles wink and flash at different spots all over their bodies.
Désirée was her own disco ball.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, sugar." Even flustered her speech was slow and laid back. I sincerely hoped whatever was going on didn't involve potential bodily harm.
Désirée could be seriously harmed before she ever got the cry out for help.
"Don't worry about it. I was just going over some files." I paused significantly. "Everything all right?"
My significant pauses need a lot of work. Désirée Norma-Sue strolled over to her desk, placed her peacock blue handbag on the desk and picked up the mail I'd placed there.
If she noticed my significant I'm-waiting-for-a-response hint, hint, hint pause, she gave no indication.
In fact, I'm not even sure she heard my question.
I studied her as I debated on whether I should attempt another question with a significant pause or if I should simply whack her with her purse while yelling "what the hell is going on?".
She'd divided her hair into two pigtails. With the amount of hair she had and the ferocity of her curls, the pigtails were thick and kinked. The left one hung down then veered right towards her breast. I wasn't sure about the right one as it had zig-zagged behind her shoulder.
They were both green. Emerald green today. With sparkles.
She wore a classic long sleeved, button down shirt that matched her handbag. She'd rolled the sleeves to her elbows and tied the ends in a sassy knot at her small waist.
She had on a rather short skirt in pale blue. The length made me wonder if we should discuss the office dress code again.
Désirée bent over to pick up an envelope that dropped on the floor. The skirt turned out to be a skort and my worries were put to rest.
She couldn't get arrested and the clients I had scheduled for today were all women. Heterosexual women. We were safe.
To top off her outfit, Désirée wore flat gladiator boots with leather straps that matched her handbag within a couple of shades. Rhinestones lined the leather.
I would have thought she'd dyed the boots to match her bag, but I'd eyeballed the exact same gladiator boots online just a week ago. I'd finally decided they were gaudy, probably uncomfortable and just too damn expensive for my checkbook.
I'm pretty sure Désirée added the rhinestones.
I made a mental note to consult with Désirée Norma-Sue the next time my witchy practical sense outweighed my consumeristic yearning.
Those boots were AWESOME!
Maybe I should go shopping with her? My biker's boots and wrinkled, green button down didn't have the same savoir faire.
I still hadn't washed my jeans. And I'm just not going there.
"So, Désirée," I decided to try the significant pause again since mine obviously needed more work. "How are things?"
If it didn't work, I'd whack her with her handbag and pin her down.
"Good. Fine." She gave herself a little shake. Her right pigtail didn't move. Her left slapped her breast. "Just dandy."
Dandy? Seriously?
I'd just picked up her purse when the little bell over the front door tinkled brightly.
Désirée Norma-Sue gasped loudly, jumped and whirled around with a pencil gripped in one hand and held out like a dagger.
Mmm-Hmm. Just dandy indeed.
I swiveled in a more relaxed manner. I knew who it was. I'd placed a warning spell around the shop that morning. And extended it down the street and into the alley as well. I'd done about as much as I could with what little info I had.
"Hey, Phil." I waved at the gargoyle walking through the doorway.
A couple weeks ago, Désirée had asked for a charm that would allow Phil to remain mobile during the day. I didn't blame her, having a boyfriend available at night but not during the day - as in turned-to-stone unavailable - would irk me too.
Sort of like having a boyfriend who disappeared periodically.
Grrr.
Now, I was extra glad I'd made the charm. Based on her pencil weapon, Désirée needed as much muscle and protection as she could get right now.
Although the muscle part was a bit in question. I knew Phil had them. All gargoyles did. His were just buried. Deeply, deeply buried.
I did a few more mental calculations for my dinner party as Phil strolled towards us. Phil moved the same way Désirée spoke - languidly and with his own sense of time.
A dark gray, straw fedora perched on his head. The hat didn't quite cover the points of his ears. Or the three loops in the one ear. Phil didn't appear to care.
His black eyes were completely fixed on Désirée. I'd first thought his nose was exceptionally wide, and it was a bit wider than the norm, but mostly it was his nostrils that were larger.
The gargoyle sense of smell is legendary in the HC.
He wore a large - three or four XL - shirt done in a lovely shade of Mediterranean blue with tan palm fronds scattered across the linen material.
He sort of looked like his own hurricane aftermath in motion.
Gray shorts and tan sandals rounded out the view.
The first time I'd met Phil he'd been dressed head to toe in leather. I'd taken him for a gargoyle biker. Turns out he's more of a beachcomber.
When I'd questioned Phil about his lack of camouflage, he'd explained he wore another charm for glamour. Humans saw his exposed skin in dark brown and regular feet and hands with normal - for humans - nails.
My magic let me see his gray/blue skin, slightly oversized hands and feet and the dark claws prevalent on each digit.
Phil had always wanted to live in the Keys. Too much heat and moisture gives gargoyles a rash, so he lived in Idaho and dressed like he lived in the Keys.
Demons Don't Always Tell The Truth (Kate Storm Series Book 3) Page 3