“I’d like to melt that ice princess.”
Emmett grabbed Gregory’s arm, and he must have twisted fairly hard because Gregory yelled and tried to pull away. Emmett always did have more strength than the others.
“Talk about her again like that, and I’ll knock your fucking head off. Got it?”
The wicked smile didn’t reach Emmett’s eyes. Zach watched in fascination. He rarely saw Emmett angry. Even when they’d stood in front of the archangels and their punishment was read from a scroll it took two seraphim to hold, Emmett had remained impassive, almost bored. His sense of humor had kept them all from ripping each other apart that first decade.
He finally let go of Gregory’s arm, and the man moved away to help some of the staff finish hanging up the wall coverings. Zach hopped off the stage and took Emmett aside. Several pairs of eyes followed their progress. He didn’t like it when they argued in front of the staff.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Look, I know Gregory is an ass, but I wouldn’t worry about Abigail falling victim to him. You said she gave him a look that would freeze water, right?”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Then let him talk. It’s what he does.”
Emmett shook his head. “She’s not an ice princess. I don’t want anyone to think of her that way.”
Zach studied Emmett’s face carefully, and when he noticed the slight twitch under his right eye, he suddenly knew what had set his friend off. Emmett usually let things roll off his back, but occasionally he let a woman get under his skin. The twitch always gave him away when Zach or one of the others tried to confront him about his feelings.
Emmett was falling for Abigail.
“Well, we know that. Does it really matter what Gregory or the others think? Come on. Help us with sound checks. Let Gregory work on the decorations.” Zach glanced around the room. “Where’s Demetrius?”
Emmett pointed. “In the corner with two blondes.”
Zach grinned. “He always did prefer them.”
“Yeah, but couldn’t he have picked a better costume than old-school rapper? Those pants are ridiculous.”
The two guffawed at the sight of Demetrius in satin balloon pants. Only the open vest saved him because his six-pack was visible.
“I wonder if he’ll take off the Ray-Bans when the lights go down?” asked Emmett.
“If he doesn’t, he’ll trip over those pants and land on his face.”
“At least he doesn’t think he’s Don Johnson.” Zach eyed Gregory’s white blazer, light blue shirt open at the collar, and white linen pants. He’d even managed to pull off the scruffy facial hair look. But with his slicked-back jet-black hair and green eyes, he looked less like Detective James Crockett than he did like Zorba the Greek if he’d wandered into the wrong century.
* * * *
Most of the tables were filled by the time Zach finally spotted Abigail. She strolled in as he started singing “Faithfully.” It was all he could do to concentrate on the words. Tiffany’s assertion that Abigail looked hot in her costume was a gross understatement. She was downright smoking.
The black-and-white zebra-print minidress showed off her toned legs, and the corset belt accentuated her breasts. Black tights ended in short, sexy black boots with buckles and stiletto heels. Matching jewelry adorned her wrists and earlobes. She’d done something to her hair to make it big, like most of the women in the room had done, but on Abigail, it made her look as though she’d just crawled out of bed after a hot fucking.
Zach’s cock hardened to the point of pain. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the words, but all he wanted to do was leap off the stage and drag her into the nearest empty room. Come to think of it, the floor of this ballroom would do just fine.
He opened his eyes again to find she’d moved closer to the stage, a standout among the other women crowding in around her. Dark eyes, warm and full of lust, traveled over his form. When her gaze met his again, she smiled. He sang to her, watching the emotions cross her face. Ice princess? Hardly. She was thinking the same thing he was. It was written in her eyes and in the way she swayed to the music, her breasts pushed slightly forward and her arms waving softly at her sides.
When the song finished, she hollered and clapped with everyone else. They were only halfway through the set, and Zach didn’t know how he’d finish. As they started “Hungry Like the Wolf,” Zach began to move around the stage in an effort to calm his raging hormones a bit. If he didn’t look directly into her eyes, he might make it to the end of the set without coming in his pants.
* * * *
Abigail was blown away from the moment she’d entered the ballroom. It reminded her of being at a rock concert. Tiffany spotted her and skipped over, dressed in pink leg warmers, a black lace miniskirt, and a sequined crop top falling off one shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she gushed. “Don’t they sound great?”
Abigail hadn’t been listening to the music. She was too busy staring at Zach in cheetah-print pants so tight they left nothing to the imagination. Fringed boots with platform heels and a tight sleeveless black shirt completed the look of sexy rock star. He’d styled his hair into a decent copy of Billy Idol during his Rebel Yell days. The effect was intoxicating. She couldn’t look away. The fact his voice was a combination of raspy and sexy pushed her over the edge. If he held out his hand, she’d take it and follow him anywhere.
As she and Tiffany made their way closer to the stage, Tiffany explained the drummer was Nikolas Fallon—whom everyone called Niko—and the tall man playing the bass was Reeve Neville. The rest of the band was made up of staff with musical talent who helped out during parties. Niko had brown hair and blue eyes, and a face that looked as though it had been chiseled from marble. Reeve had the perfect thin body and smoldering dark eyes to pull off a sexy bass player, but as handsome as both men were, Abigail kept her attention on Zach.
He winked at her as he finished “Faithfully.” She smiled and watched him dance across the stage as the band struck the opening chords of another Duran Duran song. When someone’s hand grabbed her breasts from behind, she jumped.
“Hey beautiful.” Emmett’s warm voice washed over her as the scent of coconut and vanilla filled the air. “Enjoying the show?”
She shrugged out of his embrace and turned to face him. “I sure am.”
“You want a drink?”
Abigail nodded. When he walked away, she admired the way his ass looked in tight leather pants. The Van Halen T-shirt he wore accentuated his muscles, and high-topped sneakers completed the image. Up until Tiffany arrived to help with her hair, she hadn’t been sure she’d make an appearance, but was suddenly glad she’d decided to come.
As soon as he and Zach had left her room earlier, she’d collapsed onto the floor and hugged her knees. She thought about everything they’d just told her and the experiences she’d had since her arrival. The power they seemed to have over the women here, their unique scents, and the reason they made love as though they weren’t human all came rushing at her like a sudden wind.
Intellectually, it wasn’t difficult to accept what they’d told her as the truth. The fact that the resort had been in business for ninety years corroborated their story, as did the photographs she’d seen. What she found difficult to believe was that so few people had figured out their secret. Had Sharon known the truth? She’d never said anything about it, but would Abigail have believed her if she had? She’d been skeptical at first of everything Sharon had said about this place.
Emmett returned and handed Abigail a glass. She took a sip and immediately pulled back. “Whoa. Is there anything in here besides rum?”
His grin flooded her thong. “Nope. Drink up. This is a party, and I’ve been ordered to make sure you have a good time.”
“Ordered?”
“Zach told me if he saw you doing anything besides smiling, he’d bust my chops.”
He laughed, sipping his glass of wine. “Let me catch up first.”
Zach finished the song, winking at her again. Then the band started to play “Livin’ on a Prayer.” The women near the stage screamed and danced as Zach did a near-perfect Bon Jovi imitation.
“He’s a very good singer.”
“He’s a big ham when he has a microphone in from of him,” said Emmett.
Abigail looked up into his face. “You sound jealous.”
“Do I? Well, I outshine him in other ways.” He nuzzled her neck, and shock waves traveled down her torso, all the way to her soaking wet pussy. What the hell was in this drink?
“Is that so, Emmett? In what ways, may I ask?”
Emmett’s gaze burned into her soul. The air took on that electrified feeling, and she couldn’t tell if his hair stood on end because he’d styled it that way or if she was experiencing that odd reaction again.
“The best way to compare is to have us both at the same time, Abigail. Besides, aren’t you dying to see my room?”
She bit back a moan as shivers ran up and down her spine. Her nipples and clit began to throb. Images of fucking them both danced through her mind. Would Zach spank her again? Did Emmett have any favorite kink she hadn’t yet discovered?
She shook her head to clear the image. After everything they’d told her earlier, how could she be certain their seduction was real and not simply part of their angel magic, or whatever they used? Could she even trust her own reactions? She’d certainly acted out of character so far.
“Why would I be dying to see your room, Emmett? What’s so special about it?”
“It overlooks your favorite lake and has an enclosed balcony. We could make love out there, and it would be like doing it outdoors. Let me get you another drink while you think about it,” he whispered close to her ear.
She watched Emmett walk away, wishing she had the nerve to just let go and enjoy herself with him and Zach. She turned and watched Zach again while she waited for Emmett to return. His eyes stayed on her as he sang, as if she were the only woman in the room. The muscles on his arms stood out, lit by the harsh stage lights, making her remember his strength as he held her over one knee and reddened her ass. She longed to feel that sting again.
As soon as the thought entered her head, she mentally chased away the image. Abigail had never allowed her fantasies such free rein, and she’d never been this aroused. But was it real? When she left here, would she even remember them, or would the memories fade over time, like a forgotten dream? She’d felt guilty when accusing Zach of playing a game, but isn’t that what they both were doing right now? They did this all the time. Why should they treat her any differently?
When Emmett returned, she sipped her drink this time. She needed to stay in control of her senses for the rest of this party. The band finished their set, and someone flipped a switch, filling the room with the sounds of Madonna’s Like a Virgin album. Zach disappeared behind the stage for a few minutes, and when he emerged, he strolled toward Emmett and Abigail like a big cat, deliberate and focused. The cheetah print only enhanced the image.
“You look like you’re having a good time,” he said, before planting a soft kiss on her lips.
“I am. You have an amazing voice.”
He grinned, and she wanted him. Right there and then. On the floor, even. She was in deep shit here. The safest thing to do would be to fake a headache or something and retreat to the safety of her room.
“Thank you, Abigail.” He took a long chug from the bottle of water he held then glanced around the room. “Great turnout.”
“Yeah,” said Emmett, “looks like almost everyone is here. Did Tiffany point out the other owners to you, Abigail?”
“Well, I know who Gregory is.” She watched him dance with three women, all dressed like Madonna. The Miami Vice look didn’t suit him, but she didn’t want to be rude and say so. Reeve and Niko were standing in the center of a large group of women who all seemed to be talking at once. “And Tiffany already pointed out Reeve and Niko.”
“That’s Demetrius.” Zach indicated a man with piercing hazel eyes dressed like MC Hammer. Abigail bit back a giggle as his pants ballooned out like a parachute. The two bright-haired women he danced with didn’t seem to mind.
“Abigail and I were discussing what to do after the party,” said Emmett. “I’m trying to persuade her to check out my room. With both of us.”
She was barely able to swallow the sip of rum she’d just taken before she choked on it. Perhaps she should have asked them if part of their Nephilim powers included reading minds?
“We weren’t actually discussing that, Emmett.”
Emmett winked, and Abigail felt a fierce blush crawl up her neck.
“No, but you were thinking about it, weren’t you?”
“I hope she is,” said Zach, putting an arm around her shoulder. The scent of sweat mixed with his smell of baked apples and cinnamon, rendering Abigail unable to form a coherent thought. She stared at his mouth, fighting the urge to shove her tongue between his lips right there, in front of everyone.
“So, Abigail, are you thinking about it?”
Zach’s gray eyes bore into hers as she struggled to take a breath. Abigail felt poised on the edge of a great precipice. If she let go and jumped, she’d find everything she was looking for.
“Maybe.” Coward.
A slow, wicked grin spread over Zach’s face. “I’ll take maybe. Would you like to dance? Our second set won’t start for about an hour.”
“I haven’t danced in a long time. I’d look like a fool.”
Zach glanced around the room. “I doubt it.” He took her hands. “Just move your body and listen to the music.”
Abigail kept her gaze trained on Zach and Emmett and willed herself to relax, but she was comfortable only when the two slow songs on the album played. Zach and Emmett took turns twirling her around the floor during “Love Don’t Live Here Anymore” and “Shoo-Bee-Doo,” and by the time the album ended, Abigail was dizzy with the effects of the rum and their combined scents.
She tried to remember if she and Malcolm had ever danced and, except for their wedding reception, couldn’t think of a time when they had. He’d certainly never paid as much attention to her as these two did.
Zach brought her a third drink as they sat down to take a break.
“No, I’d better not.”
“It’s a party, Abigail.”
“You two are just trying to get me drunk.”
“No,” said Emmett, stroking her hair, “we’re trying to get you to relax and have fun.”
“I am having fun.”
“Then why do you look like you’re ready to bolt?”
She lowered her gaze to the table. “Do you really want to know?”
“Are you thinking about everything we told you earlier?” asked Zach, leaning close.
She nodded. “Yes, but that’s not what I’m trying to work out.”
Zach took her hand and caressed the back of it. His touch sent shock waves straight to her groin.
“Zach, how do I know this is real?”
“What do you mean?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “I accused you of playing a game the morning after we made love, and you were so hurt. But earlier you two told me this is what you do. You seduce the guests. It’s why most of them come here. Why should I believe it’s any different with me?”
“Because you’re different,” said Emmett. “Look around you, Abigail. Tell me what you see.”
She took a cursory glance around the room. “The same thing I’ve been watching all night. Groups of women throwing themselves at the other owners.”
“Exactly,” he whispered. “If you weren’t sitting here with us, we’d be surrounded by them as well. They use us like sex toys. But most of them don’t tal
k to us or ask questions about what we like or don’t like. They don’t ask about the history of this place or become sympathetic when we tell them our fate. They’re not interested in us as people.”
“But you’re not people, are you? I mean…I don’t know what I mean. I’m confused.’
Emmett grinned. “Abigail, in this form, we’re as human as anyone in this room.”
“Can you take another form?”
“Not completely,” said Zach, his voice wistful. “I know you find this difficult to understand, but it’s rare a woman wants to get to know us outside the bedroom. And no one has ever come looking for me to apologize when they think they wronged me.”
Abigail’s breath caught in her throat at the tender look on his face. She flicked her gaze from one man to the other, trying to see past their hypnotic eyes and into their hearts. She wanted desperately to believe them.
“What can we say to convince you this isn’t just a game?” asked Emmett, taking her other hand. His touch was like fire against her skin.
“If it’s not a game, what is it?”
He leaned close, and she took a deep breath. For the rest of her life, no matter what happened during her stay here, the smell of coconut and vanilla would remind her of the first time she looked into Emmett’s ice-blue eyes.
“It’s the chance for Abigail Emily Cosslin to be treated the way she deserves to be. It’s finally time for her to be romanced and seduced, and to have all her fantasies fulfilled.”
“You haven’t been treated right by any of the men in your life, have you?” asked Zach.
Abigail fought against the tears that threatened. His words opened up a wound as images flashed before her eyes: her father yelling at her to get better grades so she didn’t embarrass him; her parents wringing their hands in frustration when she admitted she had sneaked out to see a movie with Billy Weston, a boy from “the wrong end of town,” as her mother called it; Malcolm telling her on their wedding day he forbade her to take cello lessons any longer; her father looking at her as though she was dirt under his shoe when the scandal about Malcolm and Didi broke, as though it had somehow been her fault.
Spanked by an Angel [Notorious Nephilim 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 10