1 Dicey Grenor (6 page)

“Not tonight. In
fact, I think it was a mistake inviting you in. I wasn’t planning to have sex
with you.”

“Oh.” He looked
downtrodden. “I still don’t want to leave, Willow. We can go get breakfast or
walk down the bayou. Anything you want. Just don’t make me leave.”

He was too
beautiful for words. All six feet two inches of his perfectly lean-muscled
build screamed s-e-x. Long black curls hanging in his face, olive skin in a
black v-neck t-shirt, wide black leather wristbands… While his heart rate was
returning to normal, if I had one, mine would’ve beat faster. He was so
visually stunning, my body was responding to him, and it had nothing to do with
fangs.

I couldn’t very
well tell him to stop and that I wasn’t having sex with him then turn around
and come on to him. Not his fault I was too conflicted tonight to send clear
signals.

“Willow? Can we go
eat after your shower?”

I’d just been
staring, thinking.
Lusting.

“Yeah.
Sure.” I wasn’t going to actually eat anything, but I suddenly wanted to spend
more time with him.

Now I remembered
why I hadn’t had visitors. And seeing him for the first time outside Hades was
making us both react weirdly. What was that about? After the wonderful climax
and meal with Punch earlier, I had hoped my hungers were satiated.
For a long while.
But here I was thinking about what
Remi
would look like naked. I’d only seen his plentiful
erection, now I wanted to see the whole package. What could it hurt?

After all, a year
was a heck of a long time for foreplay.

“
Remi
…” I began.

Chapter 6

“I’ll step outside
for a smoke until you’re finished,” he said as he opened and shut the door
behind himself.

I stood dumfounded…then
relieved.

Whew. That was a
close one. If I would have lost control and ripped open an artery while doing
him, I would never have forgiven myself. Creepy as he was, he had been there
when I needed him. That deserved some loyalty.
And if Max
would have popped in while I was screwing
Remi
…
I shuddered.

Remi
would have been down for whatever. He wouldn’t have
known his limit because he would have enjoyed dying or nearly dying too much. I
hadn’t been worried about Punch, on the other hand. Knew he was capable of
protecting himself. Or maybe I’d been too famished to care at the time.

I quickly cleaned
myself up, dabbed on a little lipstick, brushed my hair out and sprayed on
perfume since it sort of felt like a first date. It wasn’t intentional, but
Remi
and I matched now that I’d put on a black backless
sweater, jeans and calf-high black boots. After he looked me over with
appreciative eyes, we were ready.

He didn’t say much
on the way, just asked if I was cool with Katz’s Deli & Bar then drove in
silence. It gave me time to peruse his CD selection, which was surprisingly
mixed with hip-hop, jazz, classical, heavy metal, and country. Since he was
blasting “Party Up” by DMX, I wondered if he was upset I didn’t sleep with him.
Y’all
gon
’ make me lose my mind up in here, up in
here…

I shouldn’t have
agreed to this.

When it came time
to order, I remembered why going on a date with a human was a bad idea. Food
would make me sick. Did I order something and not eat it? Or did I order
nothing and sit like an idiot while he ate?

I decided to
order. I was already an idiot for coming in the first place.

“You’re not
eating, Willow. Aren’t you hungry?” he asked while digging into his fifth
pancake like it was an enemy.

My aunt, who’d
been in her forties and had been my best friend, had passed on more to me than
her old-school idioms. She’d also schooled me about men. For instance, she’d
said you could tell how a man made love by watching him eat. If that was so,
Remi
believed in tearing some shit up. Good to know. I was
more of the slow and sexy type, and damn if Max didn’t have that shit down, but
sometimes a girl wanted it rough. Not
Valentina
rough, just a little less than gentle.

I thought back to
our kiss in my room. He’d devoured my tongue like it was something to keep as a
souvenir. But he was teachable. And what he lacked in technique he more than
made up for in looks.

Which was why I
was here in the first place, wasn’t it.

“Not really. I’ll
just box it up and take it with me.”
And throw it in the motherfucking
trashcan.

He went back to
his plate, his brows dipped for deep concentration. Okay this was awkward.

“So…did you enjoy
my show tonight?” I asked.

“You know I did,”
he said without looking up.
“Your best one yet.
Almost got myself banned from the club.”
He laughed and I
felt less tense.

“Must’ve
had a change of clothes in your ride.
I don’t see any of my blood on
you,” I smirked. He’d think I meant fake blood.

Suddenly, he
looked up. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Willow.
Your eyes,
your smile, your brown skin.
The way your ass moves when you walk. The
way your tits just…” He looked from one to the other, licked his bottom lip and
looked at me intensely.

I swallowed.
“Uh.
Thanks. So are you.”

I’d been tripping
earlier from a lack of blood and sex. What was his issue? Maybe I should have
gone ahead and fucked him and worried about the aftermath later. If a lack of
sex made him this crazy, he didn’t need to miss it. Then again, he’d been on
edge since he first entered Hades tonight. Even his usually smooth chin had
thick stubble. Something else was up.

“I can take care
of you,” he whispered.

“What?” Now I
realized why he’d been so quiet. He’d been getting up the nerve to bring
something up.

He cleared his
throat and spoke up. “Let me take care of you. Of course, you can still perform
at Hades…or not, it’s up to you but you don’t have to work—”

“I love my job.”

“—as long as you’re
with me. We can work it out. Just let me—”

“Where is this
coming from?”

“—take care of
you, Willow. Move in with me.”

We both froze.
This was worse than the
L
bomb he usually dropped on me. He’d been
saying he loved me since we first met at Hades so I didn’t take it seriously.
Asking me to live with him was totally surprising.

The gravity of
what all this had been about started weighing on me. I was touched, really I
was, but it was never happening.

“I can’t do that,”
I said.

“Can’t or won’t?”
He put his fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Both. You don’t
know me,
Remi
.”

“Doesn’t
matter.
I know enough. I want you to live with me.” He dragged a hand
through the long, black loose curls at the front of his head. He’d let his hair
grow out since I said how much I loved it. “I have a nice condo and money to
share,” he said.

“Your tips have
been nice, very generous.” I wondered for the first time what the hell he did
for a living. “But I don’t need you to take care of me. I can take care of
myself.”
Besides, if you have any windows at your place, I’d be toast by
morning.

“You live in a
motel
.
You don’t have to do that. You can even stay in my guestroom if you’d feel more
comfortable, although I was hoping—”

“No.”

“—you’d want to
share my bed. You get me, I get you. It’ll be perfect. I just
gotta
tell you something about me first but…”

Putting my hand
over his, I looked him straight in his beautiful metallic blues, the color of
his skin making them pop like jewels. We were having two different discussions
at this point and needed to get on the same page.

“I can’t and won’t
live with you,
Remi
. End of story.” Harsh, I know,
but how else could I have put it? He was deliberately not listening.

He licked his lips
then held his bottom lip between his teeth and stared. I removed my hand. Oh,
no…this creep was about to lose it. Protecting
myself
meant I’d be exposed in front of surrounding diners. Not good.

“Why
not?” he said.

I rubbed my index
finger across both eyebrows. This was too intense. “I need my privacy. I like
being alone.”

“I thought you
liked me. Am I too weird?”

Yes
.
“No, of course not.
I have narcolepsy. Now
that’s
weird. Why would you be too weird?”

“Because I get off
on the fact you pass out cold. Because I loved rubbing whatever you used as
blood all over my face tonight.
Because I fantasize about
killing you.”

Whoa. Hold the
phone.

“You just said you
wanted to take care of me now you’re saying you want to kill me?” I said.

“I wouldn’t really
do it. Not to you. I love you. I’m just answering your question about why I’m
too weird for you…because the idea of fucking your corpse turns me on. You may
perform that shit onstage, but you aren’t into it like I am.”

True.

Never would have
dreamt people enjoyed mixing sex and death. I stumbled upon my niche at Hades
when a failed attempt at captivating Franco for dinner turned to him offering
me a job. I auditioned to perform at Hades as a necrophilia specialist since I
was technically dead, though animated by magic. I loved performing before an
audience and my narcolepsy fit in perfectly.

But yes. It was
weird.

“Please don’t look
at me like that, Willow. I don’t have anybody but you.”

Shit, who was I to
judge? I was far from normal. “Don’t you have family?” I said.

I started feeling
cool, like a gentle breeze was ruffling the hair on my neck. It was too cold
out for air conditioning, but I was definitely feeling a breeze. I looked
around. Nope. I was nowhere near a vent.

“No, my father
said ‘Here’s your trust fund, Aaron. Now fuck off’,” he said.

Well, that
explained his bankroll. It also posed the question of why his father wanted
nothing to do with him. Why was I the only one he had?

And I didn’t know
his nickname was Aaron. But hell, I really didn’t know much about him anyway.
Now did I? Lots of folks used aliases in Hades. No big deal. At least I didn’t
have to worry about him trying to take me home to meet the parents over some
Saturday afternoon cookout.

Cool air tickled
my arms, hardened my nipples. Sure hoped I was imagining things.

“Where’s your
mother?” I asked.

“Dead…and no, I
don’t have siblings.”

“I’m sorry. What
about a girlfriend? You’re every girl’s dream. Our waitress can’t wait on other
tables because of you.” I looked in the waitress’s direction to emphasize my
point. She smiled and went back to cleaning the table across from us for the
one hundredth time.

“Oh,
sure.
Girls love lying still, pretending they’re dead so their boyfriend
can get off. Or holding a loaded gun to his temple while he comes…or visiting
morgues and cemeteries on dates.”

I erupted in
laughter because of his sarcasm and the images that came to mind. He’d painted
an ugly picture of what it would be like to date him. “No, I guess that doesn’t
go over too well with many girls.
Poor Remington.”

“Most girls I’ve
dated have called the cops. I’m damaged goods.” He
laughed,
his face lighting up like he was sent straight from heaven. “What about
your
family?”

The wind on my
neck had picked up, but my hair wasn’t blowing at all. Uh oh…

“They live in
Meyerland
. My dad’s the pastor of
Meyerland
Baptist Church.”

He chuckled. “I
didn’t know you were a preacher’s kid. That figures.” He laughed again, but I
paid him no mind. I was too distracted by the tickling sensation crawling up my
arms and legs. Goosebumps covered my skin. Once I smelled sweet vanilla, I knew
it was too late to make a graceful exit.

Hey, beautiful.
I’ve missed you,
a soft, male voice whispered in my ear.

Oh, God. Not here.
“Go away,” I unintentionally said aloud.

“What?”
Remi
asked. He was frowning, focusing bewildered eyes on
me.

“Nothing.”

Willow, who the
hell is
this
? Are you on a date, beautiful?

“Yes. Now please
don’t do this here,” I whispered.

“Willow, is
everything okay?”
Remi
said.

Carrying on two
different conversations was a bitch, especially when I was the only one hearing
one of the voices.

I shifted in my
seat. The chill and tickling had leveled off, but now I felt the heavy weight
of a palm between my legs.
Couldn’t tell if it was being
communicated through my brain psychically or if Max was really here in his mist
form paying me an unwanted visit.

The palm squeezed.
I moaned and squirmed involuntarily.
Embarrassingly.
The pressure increased as he spoke again.
You are mine, Willow. I told you,
you will never be rid of me. I will claim you whenever, wherever I want. Now
tell that human to disappear while I’m still in a forgiving mood.

Remi
pulled a cigarette from his pocket and put it in his
mouth.

“Please don’t,” I
said to Max.

Remi
mistook it as a request directed at him and put the
cig back in his pocket. “If my smoking bothers you, I’ll quit,” he said. “I’ll
do anything you want, whatever it takes.”