Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) đ
- Author: E Frost
Book online «Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) đ». Author E Frost
With a faint grin, the demon takes my hand. âYou know, sweet meat, thatâs the first time youâve touched me.â
Heâs right, and I start to withdraw my hand. The demon tightens his fingers around mine and rubs his thumb very gently over my knuckles. Itâs a soft touch. Innocent, in a way the demonâs touches never are. Slowly, I relax and let him hold my hand.
âRowena wasnât the first?â I ask.
âNope. More like the tenth.â
What heâs said begins to penetrate the warm haze of his skin on mine. The tenth to summon him. Several hundred years of servitude. âHow old are you?â
âHuman years? Dunnow. First time I was called topside was when az-Zahir was runninâ things in what you call Cairo now. âRound the turn of the last millennium, Iâd guess.â
I swallow a gasp. âThe last millennium? Youâre a thousand years old?â
âMore.â The demon shrugs. âTime moves different down below. And there was a long time when I wasnâtââ He pauses. Frowns a little at the table between us. The chorizo on my plate sizzles. âAs aware as I am now.â
âAware?â I ask warily, not sure that I want to know anything about demonic awareness.
âLemures donât spend a lot of time thinkinâ. They mostly swarm. And eat.â He picks an olive out of one of the bowls between us and pops it into his mouth. âNothinâ as tasty as this, though.â
I definitely do not want to know what lemures eat. Or even exactly what a lemure is, although I have a vague memory from my Supernatural Creatures course. A line-drawing from one of my textbooks flashes across my mindâs eye. A disembodied alimentary canal attached to a huge, red eye. I put my fork down.
âYou were a lemure?â
âYup. Born and bred a demon. What were you hopinâ, that you could appeal to the human side of me? Sorry, all demon.â
I draw my hand out of his. âOf course you are.â
His eyes glint in the restaurantâs atmospheric candlelight. âAw, were we havinâ a moment there, witchy-poo?â
To think I felt a secondâs sympathy for him.
âFuck you.â I mouth the words so the other diners wonât hear.
Anytime. You ready now?
I shudder. Heâs just reminded me viscerally of what he is. And of what Iâve agreed to do with him. How, where and when you want. Isnât that the deal?
He masticates another olive. âYup.â
âThen I guess the question is, are you ready now?â I say it aloud. Thought canât adequately convey my bitterness.
The sharkâs grin. âPerpetually.â He props his chin on his knuckles and watches me. âBut I think youâre gonna need some warminâ up.â
âNo. Letâs just get it over with.â
âMmm.â He blinks lazily. âI donât think so. In fact, I think youâre gonna need a lotta warminâ up.â He rubs the toe of his boot up my ankle. âEnjoy it, sweet meat. Isnât that what women want? Lotsa foreplay?â
Not with a demon, I donât. Wen-Long better call soon.
The conversationâs killed what little appetite I had, but the demon lingers over the meal, eating everything, including whatâs on my plate. He makes a game of it, eating slowly and seductively. Until Iâm squirming in my chair.
When he finally finishes the last of the squid, I sigh with relief, thinking that the torment is finally over. But he waves the waiter over and orders coffee.
âWeâll have âem at the bar,â he says to the waiter, who nods and reaches around to hold my chair.
I hate it when men do that. Like Iâm incapable of getting out of a chair on my own. Grimacing, I slide out the other side. Turning my back on both of them, I stalk to the bar.
The demon joins me after a moment and drapes an arm around the back of the stool Iâve appropriated.
âSo, you donât like men holdinâ your chair for you,â he observes.
âNo, I donât. And I donât like them opening doors for me, either.â
âIs this a girl-power thing or dâyou have somethinâ against common courtesy?â
I snort. âCourtesy. Thatâs rich, coming from you.â
âYeah, well, no oneâs spent much time teachinâ me manners. But Iâve learned plenty other things from humans.â He leans into me and whispers warmly in my ear, âYou never did tell me what you like in bed.â
âAnything but demons,â I snap.
He chuckles obscenely and flicks the tip of his tongue against my ear. âBet I can change your mind.â
Iâm saved from coming up with a tart response by a womanâs voice. âExcuse me. Can I buy you a drink?â
I look up from the demonâs nuzzling to find Miniskirt standing on my far side. Sheâs looking at the demon like heâs Matt Damon, Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt all rolled into one. Her vacuous expression makes me want to gag.
I knock Jou with my shoulder. âI think this is for you.â
The demon drags his face out of my ear and favors Miniskirt with a long, appreciative glance. âSure,â he says, his voice deep and smooth as chocolate. âHow âbout tequila?â
I slide off my stool. The promise of coffee would have kept me, but Iâm not sitting here doing tequila shots with the demon and his groupie.
He stops me with a low growl, âWhereâre you goinâ?â
âHome,â I say. Iâm not watching while you seduce another lost soul.
He reaches out, cups my face with his hand and lifts my head so Iâm looking directly into his dark eyes. Told you, this is just fucking around. Youâre the main event.
Fuck around to your heartâs content, I fire back.
His eyes flare slightly, and in their depths, a neon-blue glint. You gonna be there when I get back? Hunting you downâll make this a long night, and Iâm not in the mood for those kinda games.
Yes. I donât welch on my promises. Just donât . . . I glance back over my shoulder at Miniskirt. Donât bring anyone home with you this time. I canât cope with that again.
âLong as you wait up for me, thatâs a deal.
âFine,â I say. I have just a few
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