How to Kill an Incubus: A Rae Erickson Story (16 page)

“I don’t remember loaning it to you.” I let out a sigh of defeat, leaned against the sink, and glared at him. “Anyway, why are you here?”

He popped the can open and took a swig before declaring, “Got some info you may or may not be interested in. JP-type of info.”

“Temp, stop dicking around. What is it?”

“All right, all right,” he said, holding one hand up. “Isn’t sex supposed to relax people?”

“Temp!”

“OK! You know those girls his sister mentioned?”

I nodded.

“Well, I casually asked him if he was into ménages à trois,” he paused to wink at me, “Because a friend of mine knew he’d brought a group of chicks to his apartment and wanted in on the action.” He chugged down more Coke, winking again. “Guess I was wrong, Baby Phat. He says he’s a one-woman pony.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, and that the girls are part of an exclusive virgins-only club at some university. Could be a sorority, I don’t know. Do the French get into that Kappa-Alpha-Delta bull? JP wouldn’t go into detail, but said there were six of them. All babes.”

“Why would he be hanging out with a bunch of hot nuns?” I fretted.

Temp shrugged. “I don’t know but if I ever got myself into that sorority house… Well, let’s just say ‘Hymen! Bye, men.’”

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Ugh. Have you no shame?”

“I don’t, actually. Shame is for the unfulfilled.” He arched a brow. “Still ashamed of sleeping with a demon? Or having a demon brother?”

I sucked in a deep breath, meeting his eye. “No, not really.”

Temp’s face broke into a smile. “There’s hope for you yet, Baby Phat.” He inclined his head toward the doorway. “Let’s go. I think it’s time you were acquainted with JP.”

Chapter 10

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore,” I grumbled, followed Temp into the elevator of JP’s high-rise complex, and sighed heavily.

Temp was eyeing me as the doors closed. “Because you love a mystery just as much as the next person. We’re like Fred and Daphne. Minus the sexual tension, of course.”

Then Temp pressed the button that would take us to the penthouse. I rolled my eyes.

“I doubt there’s any mystery, aside from the fact that JP is clearly taking advantage of a choir of virgins. Besides, you’re so not Fred. He looked classier with that little scarf of his.”

“The only person that’s being taken advantage of is yours truly. I could be out getting laid right now.”

I shot him a glare. “I didn’t ask you to play Tag-Along Timmy.”

“No, what you asked for was info. But all you do is drool over the guy and hope you’ll catch him in the act of murdering someone.” He snorted. “Quite frankly, I think his sister’s trying to hook you two up over some fake conspiracy.”

“I don’t drool over him. Plus he’s not even my type.”

At this, Temp sent me a dazzling grin. “True. We both know you prefer your men to be hung like a horse with egos to match.”

I glared at him. “So what’s our cover story? I can’t exactly start with a
Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but what’s up with all those virgins, baby
?”

Temp laughed obnoxiously. “One, don’t ever sing that again. Ever! And two, just let me do all the talking. He’ll spill.”

I playfully slapped his arm just as the doors opened. And beyond them, who else but none other than JP himself was blinking at us expectantly, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. It was nearly midday and he was still in his boxers—silk, as expected, red silk. I had no idea why that was unsurprising to me. It just was.

“Temp,” he greeted, “I thought you were alone.” He didn’t even bother to mask the interest in his voice as he gave me a look that was customary between lions and prey out in the wild.

“I know three’s a crowd,” Temp said genially, stepping into JP’s sunlit apartment and dragging me behind him, “but this is my sister, Rae,” he pronounced, introducing me to the man I’d been stalking from afar.

I wanted to punch Temp right then.
What happened to discretion?!

“By sister, he means non-related. We’re just tight like that,” I put in quickly, aware of how lame I sounded.

JP didn’t bat an eyelash as he came over, bent slightly, and air-kissed both my cheeks, the smell of whiskey on him washing over me. “Gorgeous. Too bad I’m in a committed relationship, otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?” Temp prodded curiously, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulders.

JP looked me over again, his slate-grey eyes practically undressing me. “We would be fucking.” His eyes swiveled back to Temp. “Is that why you brought her? To tempt me away from Ava?”

“I’m right here,” I fumed. “And you’re not my type.” I didn’t appreciate being discussed like a prostitute.

JP laughed and Temp joined him. “Come. We can talk about your type on the balcony.” Without preamble, he took my hand in his and tugged me into step beside him. “Quite the spitfire, aren’t you?”

“I find your tone both condescending and irritating, especially when we’ve just met,” I retorted, trying to pry my fingers out of his iron grasp to no avail.

“Really? And I find it quite pleasing that the woman that has been following me around for over a month now is as beautiful up close as she is from afar.” He stopped before the glass sliding door that led to the balcony, pausing to slide it open before dragging me out with him.

Choosing my words carefully, I said huskily, “Just because you’re not my type, doesn’t mean you’re not fun to look at.”
Ick!

The tiled balcony was empty, save for a wicker chair and a small, round table cluttered with empty liquor bottles.

JP threw his head back and laughed, leaning against the granite balustrade lining the perimeter of the balcony. “
Mais
oui
, that does make sense.” He regarded me over the rim of his whiskey glass as he took a small sip. For someone who was clearly an early morning drinker, he was astonishingly lucid.

I noticed that Temp, despite his I’ll-do-the-talking speech, was taking his sweet time to come outside and I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable under JP’s probing gaze. And another thing was bothering me: His unmistakable hard-on. I was no prude, but his blatant sexuality was a little too much for me. His boxers were tented at the front, obviously unable to contain what was definitely an impressive serpent.

And now I’m using animals to describe cocks
, I thought self-deprecatingly.

“So, to what do I owe this visit,
chérie
?”

“I, uh, wanted to meet all of Temp’s friends.”
Real smooth.

JP raised a questioning brow. “So you thought following me around was the best way to do that?”

I turned beet red, unable to answer that without sounding like a total idiot. I really needed pointers from Daniel. I was clearly getting rusty. But on the flip side, this wasn’t what I usually do. Taking a bunch of pictures of husbands with their pants down was way easier than playing Sherlock in clubs.

“OK, this has gone on long enough.” Temp’s bored voice came from inside. He sauntered onto the balcony and positioned himself between JP and me, his back to me. Running a hand through his already unkempt hair, he muttered, “Jean-Philippe? Come here.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, puzzled.

“Rae, shut up for a second. I mean it. Don’t say a single word,” he hissed.

“Huh,” I huffed, watching as JP approached Temp, towering over him by at least a foot.

“You want to please me, don’t you… baby?” Temp said huskily, reaching up to stroke JP’s cheek.

“I do,” JP replied, sounding like an eager bitch.

“What the…?” I murmured under my breath, stepping aside so I could get a good look at the unbelievable scene before me.

“That’s good, baby,” Temp said gently, running a finger across JP’s lips. “Tell me why you’re recruiting virgins.”

To my astonishment, JP was stroking himself through the thin fabric of his boxers, his erection curved and straining to escape. “Recruiting virgins?”

“Yeah. You told me there were six of them. Remember.”

“Yes,” he groaned in response, still gripping himself, a small patch of wetness the evidence of his pre-ejaculation. “Damien. The girls are for Damien.”

“What for? Sex?”

JP groaned, his fist clenching so tightly around his length that his knuckles whitened. “No, vessels.”

“Drug mules?” I spoke up, and Temp turned to glare at me before returning his gaze to JP.

“Bodies,” the Frenchman whispered, and sank to his knees, his hands flailing to the front of Temp’s jeans. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Let me please you.”

“Fuck, no!” Temp snapped, leaping back as if JP had the plague. “Stay. Don’t touch me.”

JP stayed and stopped touching him.

Temp cleared his throat and asked, “Is that all you know?”

“Yes. Bodies for Damien’s friends. All I know.”

“Good boy.” Temp cocked his head to one side. “Now JP, you’re starting to feel the effects of all this Jack you’ve been drinking. It has caused a hallucination.”

“Yes.”

“Close your eyes and surrender to the fatigue, Jean-Philippe,” Temp commanded, his voice soft yet authoritative.

JP lay down and curled up, his eyes shutting. It was quite pathetic to watch.

“You used your… your demon mojo on him!” I squeaked in incredulity, marveling at how JP was already breathing—the even breathing of someone in a deep sleep.

“What of it?” Temp snapped defensively, and I laughed.

“I had no idea you could, you know, use it on guys.” But it made sense. Men and women, it didn’t matter, as long as they were humans… as long as they had souls… and as long as they had libidos.

To my surprise, Temp reddened. “I swear, Rae, if you ever mention this to anyone…”

“Relax. I won’t tell a soul. You were helping me.” I led the way back inside JP’s apartment. “I just don’t understand what he meant. Bodies? Does that equal prostitution?”

“You really are ignorant,” Temp muttered, his tone compelling me to look back at him. “Damien’s ‘friends’ are demons, which means those virgins are now possessed.”

This time, I was absolutely positive that it was a dream fashioned by my sexually depraved and masochistic brain.

Lying in bed with a mountain of pillows propped under my head, I could feel that I was completely naked beneath my ‘one thousand thread count Egyptian cotton’ sheets. Oh, and Andrei and Daniel were, too—naked, I mean. They stood side by side—completely ridiculous because I had no doubt that Andrei would rip the slightly smaller man to shreds if they so much as breathed the same air—waiting to do my bidding like a pair of sexy, muscular blow-up dolls. There was no doubt in my mind that this was going to be a sex dream because that was all my subconscious mind was into these days. Well, if this was what Inner Rae wanted, who was I to argue with her? This was her dream, after all.

“Hi,” I said to the two men, my voice a few octaves lower than my natural one. Dream Rainelle had the sultry voice of a siren, whereas Real Rainelle was an uncultured cursing hussy. And Dream Rae wanted a little guy-on-guy action to get the party started. “Why don’t you, um, kiss each other?”

This would be the real test. Both men were straight as arrows and I couldn’t even imagine either of them being with anyone of the same sex—especially Andrei, who had made it no secret that swimming in my pussy was one of his favorite pastimes.

Argh!
Now I was getting wet.

Andrei’s hair was just how I liked it—wild and undone, cascading in long, thick rivulets. It fell past his broad shoulders, brushing just beneath his ribcage. From there, the only hair present was the dark smattering of his happy trail beneath his navel that showed the way to the V of his pelvis and the jut of his spectacular hard-on nestled in wispy dark curls. Daniel was just the opposite, his dark chestnut hair perfectly coiffed and his pubic area absolutely bare. I had no idea why Dream Rae thought he’d be bare down there, she just did. She also assumed that he’d be circumcised.

“Oh, and make it a wet kiss, m’kay? I want to see some tongue action,” I added as an afterthought, licking my lips in anticipation as they looked each other over. Typical males, contemplating who would be the submissive and the dominant.

Finally, Andrei snagged Daniel’s smaller form to his bigger one and pressed his lips against Daniel’s. It was, quite possibly, one of the sexiest things I’d ever witnessed—right next to Andrei playing with himself, of course. Then, Daniel’s hands came up around Andrei’s waist as the kiss morphed into something wetter and more animalistic. Their cocks—as hard and curved as they were—ground against each other, the sight enough to make me want to wedge myself between them.

“OK, enough,” I panted when it became too much, and they instantly broke apart. I kicked the covers off; they were only in the way. “I want the both of you inside me. Now!”

“Sure you’ll be able to handle that?” Andrei asked lazily, his hand caressing his erection.

I knew from experience that he loved it when I traced each and every pulsing vein along his shaft with the tip of my tongue. I ached to do that.

“Oh, she’ll handle it, all right,” Daniel put in, approaching the right side of the bed.

I crawled to the edge and hoisted myself up onto my knees, reaching out to pull him into a kiss. His breath was hot and minty, and all the hairs on my body instantly stood up when I felt his tongue trace the seam of my lips. I felt pressure on the mattress behind me, and suddenly, Andrei’s hands were planted on my hips. Leaning back into him without releasing Daniel from our lip-lock, I rubbed my ass against Andrei’s cock, reveling in the moisture I felt there.