Sins of the Flesh (Half-Breed Series Book 2) (2 page)

I took the proffered key card, made my apologies to the porters, grabbed my bag, and ran toward the elevators, all previous intentions of remaining calm and collected shot to hell. If Irix wasn’t in the room, he soon would be, and I’d be ready for him. Really ready.

Chapter 2

T
he scent of hyacinth and hibiscus filled the room. I didn’t call out, knowing that if he were here, he’d sense me. I heard nothing, saw nothing. The room was dark, heavy shades drawn with care. Not a beam of sunlight pierced the edges of the curtain. The only sense in play was that of smell — and my otherworldly ones.

Sex. Irix’s pheromones had slid their way across my skin the moment I’d opened the door, and now they increased, nearly driving me to my knees. I shuddered. Taking a deep breath, I turned on the lights.

Flowers. They were everywhere. The room was filled with bright colors — comforter, upholstery, drapes, paint, and the vases and pots filled with blooms that occupied every horizontal space. Well, except for the little dining table where a bottle of Captain Morgan and another of ginger ale stood beside a bucket of ice and two tumblers. Irix’s favorite drink — Captain and ginger. Every time I had one, memories of him filled my thoughts.

“Turn the lights off.”

I did as he asked, closing the door and giving my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.

“Irix?” We’d been apart six months. That was a blip in time to a demon, but I’d spent my life thinking I was a human. To me, it had been an eternity.

“Pour us both a drink.”

The voice rasped with a sultry note. I obeyed, my blood heating. “Irix, I can’t do this. Get over here and kiss me. Get over here and do more than kiss me.”

“My trip. My rules. Now, drink. And strip. Slowly. Very, very slowly.”

Damn him. Wasn’t six months of separation enough sexual tension for the bastard? I debated an act of defiance. Thought of searching him out and jumping him. I’m sure that’s what he expected though, and I loved doing the unexpected. A little extended foreplay wouldn’t kill me, and a seductive striptease might drive Irix into moving things along faster than he’d planned.

I could hear him prowling the dark edges of the room. My hands shook as I dropped three cubes of ice into each tumbler, and I took a steadying breath, planning my next move. One-and-a-half ounces of the rum, then a solid splash of ginger ale. I took mine and walked to the drapes, pulling them open. If I was going to give Irix a show, I wanted natural light accenting my curves.

Small sip. I ran a finger around the edge of my glass and lifted it to my lips, sucking gently before dragging the tip of my finger across my lower lip. Reaching my hand down, I flicked the button on my skirt, stretching to reveal the skin at my waist. Spreading my fingers across the waistband, I eased the zipper undone, twitching the skirt low on my hips. Another sip, and with a shimmy, the skirt slid down my thighs to the floor.

I stepped free, taking another pull of the drink before setting the glass on the table with a clink. Crossing my arms, I reached to my waist and gripped the hem of my shirt. He wanted slow; I’d give him slow. I raised my arms, teasing the shirt up over my abdomen and chest, spinning with a sway of my hips. The top cleared my head, and I shook my hair free as I discarded the shirt on the floor.

Another sip. Walking to the sliding doors that led to a porch overlooking the ocean, I placed my hands flat against the glass, arching my back to show my rear and breasts to their best. I looked down at the sand and surf, at the tourists, thrilled at the thought that if any looked up, they’d see me in my lacy demi-bra, arms spread wide against the glass. Even more thrilling was the thought that Irix was behind me, seeing the curve of my rear in a black thong. Was he looking at my ass and thinking of pressing into me from behind, his hands on my breasts and teeth against my neck? Because that’s sure as hell what I was thinking.

I slid my hands down the door and spun about, running fingers up the skin of my waist as I approached the table. Sip. Running my thumbs under the band of my bra, I hesitated at the back and breathed deep. I leaned my head backward to expose my throat then snapped the latches.

The bra band released. Pushing my breasts forward, the shoulder straps slid down, half-cups catching on my taut nipples.

“Slower.”

Eyes closed, I allowed a smile to curl my lips as my hands came forward to cup my breasts. “Is this better?”

I heard a low murmur of assent. The bra slid down my arms and onto the floor while I took some time to trace the fullness of my breasts, flicking my thumbs across my nipples before pinching them into hard nubs.

Sliding one hand down my waist, I hooked a finger into the waistband of my thong, easing it slowly over the curve of my hips. With a twitch, it dropped. I let it dangle around my ankles before kicking it onto the bed, all the while stroking myself. I was now naked except for my four-inch platform stilettos.

“Pleasure yourself.”

I’d done enough of that over the last six months, and I opened my mouth to protest. But the thought that he was going to be watching sent a flame downward, twisting into aching need between my thighs. I could lay across the bed or sprawl in one of the chairs, but I chose to return to the sliding glass doors, pressing my breasts and cheek against them as I spread my legs wide and ran a hand up the inside of my thighs.

Suddenly there were other hands on the outside of my thighs.

“Thought you said I was to pleasure myself.”

I felt a sculpted chest against my back, fingers like a concert pianist as they made their way up my legs. His breath caressed my neck, silken hair tickled my shoulder. “I changed my mind and decided to help. You’re too tempting, and I’ve ached for you every day these last six months.”

Every part of me melted. He’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. All the angst of the last few months fell away, and I lost myself in the feel of his hands, the caress of his lips on the back of my neck.

“Get to work, elf-girl.” I felt a teasing smack on my ass and squealed. One hand remained against the glass, but the other moved further up my thighs to the hot, wet spot between my legs. I stroked, flicked and rubbed, but couldn’t concentrate on self-stimulation with Irix pressed against my backside.

“Am I distracting you? Should I go back to my dark corner and watch?”

“No!” It was a strangled protest, desperate for the closeness of the man I loved. I’d soldiered through our time apart, but now remembrance of the agony that our separation caused came roaring back. “I need you. I need you.” I spun around, throwing my arms around his waist. He looked just as he had six months ago, dark hair, golden eyes that flashed with desire, that full, beautifully sculpted mouth beckoning me to taste.

My lips crashed against his, my hands roving his flesh with frantic desperation. Irix was shirtless, but I soon discovered he still had jeans on. My breasts were tender against his chest, and with a quick motion of my fingers, his pants were loose around his hips. Irix liked to go commando, and my hand down the open fly of his jeans quickly confirmed he was naked under the pants.

He was firm in my hand, as his tongue re-acquainted itself with my mouth. I stroked him, gripping him then releasing to tease with light fingers. Our movements becoming a desperate blur of hands and lips. Then Irix’s hands dropped to my rear, hoisting me up against the sliding glass door as I grabbed his shoulders for balance and wrapped my legs around his waist. He drove into me and stopped. Time halted, and we were together, joined in perfect union. In that moment, all the worry of the last six months dropped away, and something warm surged up inside me.

Then I tightened around him. He began to move, slowly at first, then increasing speed until we were in a frenzy of fractured rhythm. I clutched his shoulder, nails digging into skin. Irix’s strength and the double-pane glass door all that was keeping me upright. Pleasure built like a wave approaching the shore, rising until it crashed through me. With a shudder, I came and he followed.

We panted, slick with sweat as we clung together. Slowly Irix eased us down, and I laughed when my back squawked against the glass.

“The maid is going to wonder about the ass prints on the door.” I gasped, still breathless.

He chuckled. “And the guests in the pool are going to wonder whose lovely ass they were watching.”

Shit. Hopefully they didn’t connect that naked rear end to me, or I was in for an embarrassing vacation. And no, the irony didn’t escape me — an exhibitionist ten minutes ago to hoping no one recognized me from my little peep show now.

Irix stood and offered me a hand. We grabbed our drinks and curled up on the bed, snuggling together amid half-a-dozen pillows and fluffy comforters. It felt so wonderful to be in his arms again. I breathed deep, feeling his warm skin against my cheek and his fingers as he pulled them gently through my hair.

“So, how’s school?”

It seemed awkward, this ‘what have you been doing since I’ve seen you last’ talk, but there was a lot to catch up on before we could ease into our old familiarity.

“Only a few more months.” I traced the muscles on his chest, needing to reassure myself he was truly there. “I’m still writing my thesis — brought it with me, in fact, although I’m hoping I’m too busy to work on it.” I told him about my various classes, about how Darci and our friends in New Orleans were doing. And then I asked him about Hel.

He hesitated, and I knew he was weighing whether to keep me blissfully ignorant of the situation or not. “It’s not good, Amber. I know the Ha-Satan is your friend, but she’s got to do something about those damned elves.”

I winced, knowing those ‘damned elves’ would want me dead once they realized I was alive.

“Do you think they know about me?” My brief foray into Hel last August hadn’t been brief enough to hide me from an elven scout — one who’d escaped us, clearly knowing what I was.

Irix sighed. “Yes. There’s a contract out on you. They haven’t quite figured out how to sniff you out among the billions of humans here, but they’re working on it.”

I shivered and nestled closer to Irix, pretending for a moment that his strength could fend off every threat. “What do I do?”

“Grow stronger. Be wary and hone your skills.” He bent his head to kiss the top of mine, his hands moving lower, his caresses becoming purposeful. “Stay here, in bed with me for all eternity.”

I heard the smile in his voice, but I also heard the unspoken words — don’t live my life in fear, letting every waking moment be consumed by thoughts of demon hit men that could be after me. He’d glossed over his life in Hel, but I’d heard enough about it to know how demons lived. It was a violent, kill-or-be-killed life, but somehow they still managed to do the things that brought them joy. In spite of what he’d probably been through in his two-thousand years, Irix hadn’t turned into a hardened monster. He was tough, capable, and there was no one I’d rather have by my side if the shit hit the fan, but he wasn’t a monster.

And his fingers below my waist were making any further rational thought impossible. I sank deeper into the pillows and let myself drift away to a place where every sense came alive. We communicated in this raw, primal fashion. And this time when we came, more than just a physical orgasm rushed through me.

I murmured in protest as I felt the flow of Irix’s energy through my body, saturating every cell and tingling along my nerves. I’d been diligent about keeping myself sustained and taking care of my succubus needs, but what Irix shared was like a glass of the finest port. As wonderful as this intimate gift felt, I didn’t want him to think he
needed
to do this. I’d done a lot of growing up in the last six months and was determined to stand on my own — no matter how distasteful I occasionally found my endless hunger.

“You’ve not been taking care of yourself.”

His whispered recrimination was gentle, but it still stung. I
had
been taking care of myself. “I’m in college, facing finals and my senior thesis, along with applications for summer internships. I go out every weekend and have sex. Two or three per week is the best I can do right now. Give me a few more months and I’ll step up the pace.”

He sighed, and his lips traced a line from my mouth to my jaw. “It’s not the quantity I’m upset about, Amber, it’s the quality. Must you fill yourself with the equivalent of greasy cheeseburgers and diet soda?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. “The selection isn’t exactly great in a college town. And I’ve got some criteria I need to live by.”

Sex fueled me, but at the cost of my partner. I could take a quick hit, like a sugar rush to my system, or a longer, more sustaining approach. That last one tied the human male to me for the rest of his life. Each sexual experience he had gave me a trickle of energy; each partner he had was a desperate search to replicate his time with me. I only tied assholes, those player horndogs who never wanted more than a one-night stand and refused to commit. I wasn’t hurting them. And the others were just a shot of sugar — one time and I was only a happy memory.

Besides all that, I had to be careful. My succubus side, pheromones or not, inspired rash decisions in men. And those had resulted in several very angry girlfriends at my door. Married men I stayed away from, and those who hid their wedding ring with the intention to cheat weren’t the problem. It was impossible for me to tell if the hot guy with lust in his eyes had a serious girlfriend or not. So try as I might, I’d become that tramp, the slut who would steal some other girl’s man. Tying them to me meant they left their girlfriend. Not tying meant they had a whole lot of guilt and explanations the next morning. I, on the other hand, usually wound up with a black eye. Fighting evidently wasn’t a skill my demon sire had considered necessary when she’d formed me.

“Mmm.” Irix eyed me with skepticism. “I won’t be putting up with that excuse here in Maui or once you’re out of college. You need to choose better partners.”

Sheesh he was bossy. I gave him my best ‘whatever’ shrug. “Yep. No problem.”