wait a moment longer. Grabbing Paul’s arm, I pulled him onto the floor as I elbowed people out of my way. And then I hurled myself into the music—now the Bangles, telling us to “Walk Like An Egyptian.” I let the song wash over me, through me, let it command my body as I danced. My only self-imposed restriction was to make sure I kept my clothes on. Sometimes it was tough to remember that I wasn’t always a stripper.
Paul moved with me, his large feet glued to the floor as he worked against the beat. Heh, my White Knight was blissfully unaware of his tendency toward white man’s overbite. I’d never tell.
“Cutting in.”
I barely registered the words before some bimbo bumped me out of the way and wrapped her arms around Paul. Too surprised to react immediately, the music pounded in my head as I watched this blonde with legs up to her chin dance with a bemused-looking Paul. My Paul.
My now-I’m-happy-to-dance Paul Hamilton.
I shouted, “Hey!”
Paul either didn’t hear me or didn’t care. Not his fault; she was practically falling all over him. It was all he could do to untangle her body from his own…not that he was trying all that hard to do so.
Unholy ire bubbled in my veins. That nasty bitch! Let’s see if that shit-eating grin would still be pasted on her face after I clawed her eyes out.
I took two steps toward them before someone clamped a hand onto my shoulder and spun me around. He was short, just a couple inches taller than me, but he radiated such presence that he seemed to loom over me. Like me, he wore all black. Like me, he had thick, curly hair, but his was short and sandy. Barrel-chested, bow-legged, he grinned down at me as if he’d just gotten a fabulous present.
“Dance with me.” His voice made it clear he’d had at least thirty drinks too many.
The last thing I wanted to do was dance with some drunken slob. I had to go skin me a blonde. “Maybe later, sweetie,” I said, shrugging out of his grip and turning away.
He snatched my hand and yanked me back to his side. Spinning, I lost my balance and crumpled against his torso.
“Come on, babes,” he said, all traces of the drunken slob gone. “Just one dance.”
Oh crap. “Daun?”
“In the flesh.”
And he was, too—no human possession this time. The incubus Daunuan himself was on the mortal coil, dressed in mortal form. And that meant only one thing: he was on a soul collection. That didn’t bode well.
I tried to pull away, but he held me tight. “You following me?”
“Heh. Believe it or not, I’m a working demon. That you’re here’s just a coincidence.”
Uh huh. Sure it was.
Daun grinned. “I had to break in one of your replacements. So we came here, scouting for new blood for Downstairs.”
“Replacement?” Before I’d run away from Hell, I’d lost my job in a burst of demonic outsourcing. “You’re here with a fucking angel?”
“Yep.”
“Who?”
“The flaxen sweetness dancing with your flesh puppet.”
That stopped me cold. The blond bitch who’d bumped me out of the way was an angel? Holy fuck in Heaven. I tried to find her and Paul on the dance floor, but it was too crowded…and Daun was holding me too closely. He smelled of silk and sweat and sex.
“Since the King replaced all female Seducers with her breed, it’s all been a huge buzzkill,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “Sure, they look good enough to eat. But just try touching them. I’d get more action sucking on an iceberg. That’d be warmer, and at least it’d eventually melt. But not those holy snatches.”
I wasn’t exactly sympathetic—one of those holy snatches was making moves on my man. “Life’s a bitch.”
“And then you die, and go to Hell. And then the party starts.” He looked at me, his eyes bright. “Babes, don’t you miss my touch?”
“Lots,” I admitted. “But I love Paul.”
He snorted. “Who cares about love? We need more good old-fashioned lust. Sex with no strings. Naked desire, blatant action. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Get yourself a blow-up doll.”
“I prefer the real thing.”
“Can’t help you there.”
“You can.” He cupped my chin, and I felt power pulsing beneath his flesh, knocking against the human shell that hid his horns, his goat’s legs, his tail. “There’ve been so many changes since you left. Hell’s boring, babes. Without the real succubi, there’s no sex any more. Just these frigid bitches with their holier-than-thou attitude and cold stares.”
His hands encircled my waist as his power rippled down my body, slowly, wave after sensual wave. Nipples, down girls! Don’t you dare burst through my bra!
“Come back to Hell.” His breath puffed on my cheek, sweet and full of Sin. “Think of all the sex we’ll have.”
Now his power was stretching farther down my body, filling my belly, my groin, my thighs. Straining to control my body’s reaction, I bit my lip, hard. “Daun, I can’t.”
“Jezebel,” he purred, “you can.”
“I’m not Jezebel any more.”
“Sure you are. You just have a soul now.” He trailed a finger down my jaw. “I wonder how it tastes.”
Through clenched teeth, I said, “You’ll never know.”
Invisible fingers stroked my tits until I groaned. He said, “I love a challenge.”
“Bastard.”
“Flatterer.” The ghostly fingers moved down my body until they brushed against my inner thighs. Wetness gushed against my panties, and I shivered in Daun’s arms. My mouth opened wide as I gasped with pleasure, and Daun crushed his lips against mine.
No, pull away, pull away, pull—
His tongue found mine, and for an unknown amount of time, I was lost in his kiss. Then someone tore me away from him.
My head spun for a moment as I stumbled—my body wanted more, now! but my brain was sending out desperate stop this shit! signals. Then I regained my footing and turned to find Paul standing in front of me, one hand possessively on my arm, the other balled into a fist. I didn’t have to see his face to sense his rage.
Looking up at him, Daun threw his hands up in a universal gesture of My Bad, So Sorry.
“Back off,” Paul growled. “She’s with me.”
“Hey, Shoulders, you’re the one who left her alone.”
“She’s
