Adamant Spirits, page 154
Not that Ethan was irresponsible. Not in the least. High marks all through high school and college, captain of the lacrosse team, champion swimmer, Volunteer of the Year twice in a row, he knew what hard work and commitment meant. He lived by the motto. The job he started a week from Monday was the culmination of six years of solid work. Four for his Bachelors, and two for his Masters. He came from a family with enough funds to buy his diplomas, but Ethan had earned them in his own right. He didn’t want charity from his parents.
Which was why he’d insisted on starting at the bottom of the company. He was going to be somebody’s assistant something or another, to someone else’s assistant ad nauseam. His mother and stepfather were thrilled he was finally stepping into his role at the company, but neither had expected him to start in an entry-level position. It was the one stipulation he refused to concede—if he worked at the company, he would prove himself on his own terms.
But first, he had a week of drinking, dancing, fucking, and the Gods knew what else to get through. As hard as Ethan worked, he played equally hard. Even so, he knew he should stay home and finish reading the bios of everyone at the company, but he’d promised the guys and besides, who was he to turn down a promise of debauchery? After all, he was Ethan Stone. He’d perfected the surfer-playboy persona—the one girls loved, and his friends secretly envied. The one he was growing weary of, but how was he supposed to give up something he created?
They kicked the ball back and forth through the surf, ribbing each other about the night. He’d have to keep an eye on Finn. Cupid had a bizarre fascination with the wolf shifter. Probably because Finn refused to sleep with him. Hell, they’d all refused Cupid at one time or another, but Finn’s denial seemed to enrage Cupid for reasons only the cherub knew.
“It’ll be fine, seriously.” Finn grinned at Ethan’s scowl. “Cupid’s supposed to be in Europe this year. Besides, you don’t want to disappoint the guys, do you?”
Ethan nudged Finn’s shoulder with his own. “With all the moaning they do, you’d think they’d be happy for me to skip a night—especially tonight.”
“They’re just jealous. You barely blink and women line up to have sex with you. They’d kill to be an incubus.”
“Not you, though. You’ve never once skimmed from me, and I’ve always respected that. Thank you.”
Finn chuckled and shoved him toward an incoming wave. “I’ve never needed your scraps. Or wanted them, to be honest. Look, I know we kind of forced this week on you, if you’re not feeling it, just say so.”
That was a surprise. “You’re joking, right? I mean, all I’ve heard about for a month straight is how epic this week is going to be. Are you having second thoughts?”
Finn’s expression became serious. “Dude. I’m up for the challenge, but I know you’re worried about doing well at the new job. I know how important it is to you, and I don’t want to jeopardize that in any way. Do you want to cancel?”
“Hell no. I’m looking forward to every moment of this week. Starting with tonight. Let’s hit up the Shoogly Dragon and see if we can get these losers laid.”
Finn’s narrowed eyes said he didn’t quite believe Ethan. Neighbors since they both wore diapers, they grew up together and were closer than brothers. Sure, he was a little worried about the job, but not enough to cancel their fun. Whatever else Finn might think was all conjecture on his part. Ethan definitely wasn’t distracted by the beautiful woman, or daunted by the prospect of going out on Cupid’s night when his incubus was straining to understand the woman’s effect on him. Definitely, decidedly, not. He was Ethan Fucking Stone. He didn’t turn down an invitation to revel and romp. What sort of an incubus would he be if he did?
The answer whispered through his mind and he shut it down before his lips said the traitorous words aloud. Love was for mortals. Love was for people who weren’t Ethan. Love was terrifying as all hell.
“I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?” Finn clasped Ethan’s fist and pulled him in for a bro hug.
A wave crashed against their thighs and they jostled to gain footing.
“Are you gonna make out or are we heading for lunch?” Hans called from the shore, and both Ethan and Finn groaned.
“He’s such a dick.”
“Totally. If Cupid shows up, make sure you put in a good word for Hans.” Ethan grumbled as they trudged out of the water. “That might shut him up for the rest of the week.”
“We could always set him up with a bridge troll.”
They laughed in tandem at the memory of their threesome with a hearty lass they’d met in Ireland.
“He couldn’t handle it. He needs someone gentler, like a faerie.”
Finn snorted. “Have you met many fae? They’re all sweetness and light until you get them naked. Then it’s carnage. Absolute carnage.”
Ethan tossed the ball to Hans and reached for his towel. Maybe the woman he’d met earlier was fae. There was something not quite human about her. He’d have to ponder it over a beer and carne asada burrito. “Maybe you haven’t met the right faerie.”
“And maybe you need to shut the hell up.” Finn’s harsh tone belied the grin he wore.
Ethan chuckled and gathered his belongings. The four of them trudged across the sand to the parking lot where Ethan’s Jeep sat unobtrusively among more expensive automobiles. Hans and Karl argued about where they should eat while Ethan tucked his towel and the soccer ball beneath the back seats before climbing into the driver’s seat. Hans scrambled into the back with Karl and Finn rode shotgun.
“Dude, you drive the shittiest car. You could afford a Maserati and you choose to drive this pile of crap.” Karl fastened his seat belt with a huff.
“If you’re going to be rude to Pedro, you can walk.” Ethan patted the Jeep’s dash. “Don’t listen to him, buddy. You’re an awesome car.”
Finn twisted in his seat to face Ethan. “How many times do I have to tell you, he’s not going to answer you?”
“Story of my life with the ladies.” Karl snorted. “Don’t hog them all for yourself tonight, Ethan.”
Ethan turned onto the busy Pacific Coast Highway and gritted his teeth. Not for the amount of traffic, but for the vision that popped into his mind. There was only one woman he’d like for the night, but she’d disappeared in a grey sedan. A tiny flutter started in his belly and a worm of anxiety dug into his psyche. Even if he did see her again, he’d pretend they’d never met. That little tickle in his gut meant she was trouble. And on Cupid’s night, that was the last thing he needed.
Three
On the drive home, Carly alternated between cursing and congratulating herself. A hot guy had shown interest in her, which meant she wasn’t the hag she’d told herself she was, but she’d allowed herself to lose control, even momentarily, and that couldn’t happen. But a guy she didn’t know talked to her! Maybe she wasn’t a lost cause. Ever since she’d found her evil ex Jeremy balls deep in another woman, she hadn’t trusted men—or herself.
Certainly, the handsome stranger promised delight, not destruction. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just her loneliness that had made her burn. Nope, she told herself. It didn’t matter. Even a promise of delight held the threat of destruction. She might find pleasure, but for how long? One night? One month? She couldn’t risk it. Never again. Not after her epic failure with Jeremy.
Everyone had told her Jeremy was a catch. A good guy. And she’d believed them. They’d dated for four years, the perfect couple, but it was all a lie. Jeremy had been sleeping with at least two other women the entire time they were together. A complete prick, not to mention a lying, cheating, scumbag.
How many times had he accused her of being frigid? Ha! If he only knew. She craved love like everyone else, and hell, she’d be thrilled if she could be wild in bed, but she had to lock down her emotions—it was the only way to keep those she loved safe. She wasn’t frigid, just afraid. There was a darkness to her desires that she could never, ever let loose. It wasn’t a curse, but sure as hell felt like one.
All through her childhood she’d heard the whispered tales of family members who’d been ostracized because they weren’t pure human, but one especially had terrified Carly. Poor Aunt Hilly, they always said with a sigh, the demon. Of course, her family never actually said that word, instead they whispered something worse—succubus.
She’d never understood what it meant until her own powers manifested, and she spent a miserable summer doing everything she could to hide her internal affliction. If her mother and father knew what she was, would they still love her? She couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk becoming an anecdote for her family to gossip about. It was more than that. She refused to bring shame to her family. Story of her damn life.
From the moment she realized what she was, she learned to adapt and kept her emotions tightly controlled. Last year, after she discovered Jeremy’s betrayal, she promised herself she’d never be hurt again. Love was something for other people. Normal people. Not for her. She hid away more than her inner demon, she buried her heart and hid from life. Work became her refuge.
In her self-imposed exile, she ignored invites from friends, dismissed “good advice” from family, and concentrated on the only thing she was good at—her job. After months of tackling pile after pile of tasks that needed immediate attention, organizing spreadsheets, and doing whatever her boss threw her way, she was rewarded with a nice promotion, but all of that came with a price. It hadn’t been easy to admit to herself, but she realized she was close to burnout and needed a break.
Today was supposed to give her that break, but instead it had unbalanced her carefully guarded emotions.
In all her life, she’d never allowed anyone to light even the tiniest of sparks in her. And this guy, a total stranger, had her thinking and feeling things she’d tried to hide forever. She let herself into her apartment and tossed her phone on the counter, ignoring the missed calls and messages she’d received while at the beach. Whatever it was could wait. She was still on her daycation and the rest of the world could shove it. At least until she was showered.
A large grey beastie wove his way through her living room, meowing at her for pets.
“Hello Romeo. Did I disturb your beauty sleep? Hmm? You’re not used to having me home during the day, are you? Well, don’t let me keep you from another nap.” She snuggled his face against hers, grateful at least one male in this universe would never break her heart.
In the shower, hot water sprayed over her still sensitive skin and she welcomed the prickling heat. The need that had started at the beach persisted with annoying permanence. Stupid hot guy and his stupid abs. The pulsing need between her legs intensified until she was squirming. Her belly tightened and her nipples puckered to hard little nubs. This was bad. So bad. And the need wouldn’t go away with a battery-operated orgasm.
What she needed was a one-night stand. Someone she didn’t know, with no attachments, just sex. A night she could control.
The idea thrilled and terrified her. Where did attractive, non-sociopathic, available for one-night of mind-blowing sex, guys hang out? The beach? She almost laughed. Been there, bought the T-shirt, went home alone. The problem was, Los Angeles was huge, and she had no idea where the trendy clubs and bars were.
Stars, she was boring. No wonder Jeremy cheated on her. She never went out, barely socialized with anyone outside of work or family, and she couldn’t name three hobbies that didn’t include forwarding her career. Hell, she’d cheat on herself.
It was a good bet the guy from the beach would know where to party. He probably had several girlfriends lined up—one for each day of the week. She scrubbed shampoo into her hair and rinsed, letting the idea percolate. Maybe multiple guys wasn’t such a bad thing. If she had several men in rotation, she wouldn’t have to worry about concealing her emotions. Nothing long term, no messy entanglements, just a constant stream of boy toys to keep her satiated and entertained. Wasn’t that one of the perks of being a succubus? Sex, sex, and more sex. Ahhh, yes, please.
She ran a hand over her tingling skin and flicked her clit. A jolt of desire zipped through her blood. Yes, this plan might work. She leaned against the tiled wall and rubbed herself harder. Images of sun-bleached curls and sea-green eyes danced in her mind. His lips, lush and full, and promising torturous delight, descended on hers and she arched into the fantasy.
The spray of water pummeled against her taut nipples and she begged her fantasy lover to nip them with his teeth. She pinched the flesh between two fingers and pulled hard until she gasped. Yes, this. More, please. She slipped her middle and ring fingers into her channel and curled them toward her G-spot. She imagined his tongue lashing against her clit and moaned.
What would it feel like if she could be as free with a man as she was at that moment? To let him lick and kiss and suck her until she was shuddering beneath his touch? What truly would happen if she let loose of her control?
Her inner demon purred with delight as she cried out, her breath jagged and heart beating triple time. She shuddered beneath the stream of hot water and let her fingers slip from her warmth. Rather than slaking her need, the orgasm left her wanting more. More of the damned hottie from the beach. She was hopeless. She might dream of having a stable of men, but it would never happen. She was Carly the Responsible, and that stupid burden didn’t include her own happiness.
Tears spilled over her cheeks, only to be washed away. A sob shook her shoulders, and she pressed her forehead against the wall. She was a fool to think she could ever escape her responsibilities. Her family would disown her if they knew. Another sob caught in her throat and she coughed against it, sputtering water.
Need tightened her belly and she groaned, accepting that nothing would alleviate the ache except a real, honest to god, cock. She slapped the tiles and swore. Fine. If that’s what it would take to make the ache and pain and loneliness go away, she’d give herself one night and after that, she’d triple her efforts to keep her succubus desires contained. One night to fuck with abandon, that was all.
By noon she was dressed and sitting on her small balcony with Romeo, enjoying a cup of tea and the peaceful canyon her complex overlooked. Several crows chased a hawk, their cries piercing the quiet day. Romeo’s ears flicked, but at almost fourteen years and twenty-two pounds, he was far past his hunting days. Despite the calm surroundings, anxiety rippled through her veins. Thoughts of the handsome stranger’s lips, and what they might feel like against her skin, crept into her mind, distracting her from relaxing. Even when he wasn’t around, he annoyed her.
Her phone vibrated across the table, and she reflexively reached for it. The screen showed her best friend’s name, and she answered, despite her embargo on phone calls.
“Girl, what is wrong with you? I’ve never known you to call out sick, so you must be hacking up a lung or something,” Mara said in a rush, not letting Carly say hello.
“I needed a day off.”
“You’re faking? Ohmygawd, that’s awesome. What are you doing? Something fun, I hope. You better not be sitting at home staring at that fucking canyon.”
Carly turned away from the pretty view, a slice of guilt slithered down her spine. “Of course not. I went to the beach.”
An astonished gasp filled Carly’s ear. “Which one? Don’t say Malibu. It was Malibu, wasn’t it? Doesn’t matter. I’m proud of you, girl. Get out there. Live a little. What’s next? Parachuting?” Mara’s bubbly giddiness slid through the call to infect Carly.
“Never. I’m terrified of heights. I was thinking maybe dinner with my best friend.”
“Oh, like a Galentine’s date. I love it!”
“A what?”
“Galentine’s. You know, because today is Valentine’s Day, but instead of going on a date with your boyfriend, you go out with gal pals. Galentine’s!”
Valentine’s Day. Really? When had that happened? She rubbed her temple and recalled seeing hearts in shop windows, but they were as blurry as the memory of Christmas decorations and Halloween pumpkins adorning porches. She’d lived an entire year in a haze.
“Yeah, that sounds good. I was thinking maybe we could go clubbing too?” Silence stretched across the line, and Carly checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “Mara? Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, but who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
An awkward giggle escaped Carly. This might be too much for Mara to take in all at once. Hell, it was too much for her to take in. “I know it’s sudden, but maybe it’s time I get out there. You know, meet people. Maybe date.”
“Um, duh. That’s what I’ve been saying ever since you found that two-timing douche naked, in your bed, with that bitch’s legs wrapped around his back. Where should we go? Are you looking to dance, listen to music, drink? Or all three?”
The bitterness in Mara’s memory equaled her own anger at Jeremy, but Carly refused to let him deny her happiness ever again. Still, she couldn’t tell Mara what she really wanted—one wicked night with the hot guy from the beach. Just one. One night of letting herself feel. If Mara knew, she’d make sure any guy Carly showed interest in was properly outfitted with a condom, didn’t have a criminal record, and would most likely insist on seeing health records to prove he was clean. To say Mara worried about Carly was a gross understatement.
Best friends since high school, she and Mara were family. They’d laughed together, cried on each other’s shoulders, and shared all of their secrets. Mara was the only soul who knew what Carly truly was. Yet, even though she respected Carly’s privacy, she didn’t understand. Being half fae herself, Mara flouted her heritage like a badge of honor. Which, to be fair, if Carly were born with fae blood instead of demon, she sure as hell wouldn’t hide. But a succubus? Who in their right mind wanted to be that kind of paranormal?
