How to Kill an Incubus: A Rae Erickson Story (32 page)

“What is your point?”

“That you fed yesterday.”

“I have a voracious appetite,
ma petite
,” she coyly retorted, eyes roaming my body, “And today, I feel like doing the fucking.”

I pushed myself to my feet, and in the process, got a glimpse of my friends locked in an embrace in thigh-high water. I turned back to Selene. “What do you mean ‘do’ the fucking?”

She smirked, leaning forward. “Today, I will be a man and fill another woman’s hot, wet cunt with my cock,” she said, her voice husky. She ran her tongue along her lower lip. “I will have her suck me and I will fuck her mouth. Only when I have come and come and come will I be satisfied… for today.”

I swallowed, recognizing the arousal in her eyes. “Don’t kill anyone.”

“That remains to be seen,
chérie
. Tell me, has my lord ever been with you as a woman?” She tilted her head to one side, the bangs that completed her bob falling on her face. “By the look on your face, I would say he has not.”

“You’re disgusting.” 

Laughing, Selene sashayed off, in search of her next victim.

My first kickboxing instructor was in the gym when I got there, and my initial impulse was to avoid him. I was about to slip past him on all fours when he looked up from his post at the front desk, where he was clicking away on a computer. It was too late.

“Rainelle?” Jared’s deep voice registered surprise. He stepped around the curved desk and approached me, arms outstretched.

Inside, I was groaning as he pulled me into a hug, my gym bag between us as a barrier. I’d expected him to smell of sweat and too much Axe but the sweet scent of soap filled my nostrils instead. He probably just finished up with a class and showered before coming out front.

“Jared,” I said as I pulled away, “long time.”

He hadn’t changed much over the years, save for getting a bit beefier. He still had his dark hair close-cropped, still had the same tattoos spiraling up his arms and disappearing into a vest, and still wore contacts that ensured there was no masking his long-lashed grey eyes.

“Indeed,” he said quietly, looking down at me. “I mean, I hear things about you coming back now and then, but I’ve never gotten the chance to…”

“I haven’t been to the gym—heck, any gym—in a little while,” I interjected. It was vital to cut off what would be a dangerous conversation. How could I have forgotten that Jared worked at the Witness Fitness?

It doesn’t matter
, I thought fiercely.
I have a membership here and I’ll be damned if I let something that happened years ago get in the way of getting my ass firm.

“You look great,” Jared asserted, giving me a small smile. “Listen, Rae, I…”

“I’m on a tight schedule, Jared. Talk later?”

I didn’t wait for his answer before I turned to slink away like the coward I was. Oh, how easy it was sometimes to just pretend that my life in Sallow Bay was limited only to my family home and best friend—that my whole past here was nonexistent.

Annoyed, I decided to punish myself with a three-mile run on the treadmill. I already stretched at home, so ignoring the few people on machines around mine, I popped the earbuds of my MP3 player to my ears. Once the sound of Sick Puppies was all I could hear, I hopped on.

Once upon a time, geeky, awkward Jared Holland had been like a big brother to me. That was back when a good time for him had consisted of video games and R.L. Stine books. And then he turned eighteen and joined the army, leaving me alone. Well, as alone as a person can be with someone like Renée Marino for a best friend.  

The first time he returned home, I fucked him. He was my first. Later on, just before Lorenzo came into the picture and we were reminiscing, Ren had said that Jared was proof that geeks could grow up to be gods, so she was waiting for Zuckerberg to mature properly.

For me, it wasn’t just about his looks – although he was fucking edible – it was about how he’d always been a constant. He felt… right. Yeah, I wasn’t all about the orgasms when I was younger. Back then I was a completely delusional idiot.

It was in the backyard of the Holland house—after a very grueling one-on-one Muay Thai 101 with Jared—that I said something I instantly wished I hadn’t. Things had been awkward after we slept together, and of course, we could never go back to the brother-sister thing we had. But I made everything worse by telling Jared I loved him. And as nicely as he possibly could, he apologized for taking my virginity and told me that he loved me, too… as a sister.

“I’ve realized that you feel more like a sister to me, so I’m awfully sorry for popping your cherry. Now can you show me that jab again?”

Okay, I’m paraphrasing.

Either way, it wasn’t my finest moment and when I went away to college, I cut him out my life. He eventually left the army and I eventually came back for a little while. And I had no idea how it happened, but we ended up sleeping together… again. For me, it was just convenient. He was around and I could stand to look at him. For Jared… Well, I still have no clue why he wanted to have sex with me again. And again.

Then years later, I ended up leaving and forgetting him completely. I hadn’t seen him in almost two years. Now that I had, I knew that I never truly loved him, or wanted him. Never ached for him.  Never yearned to feel his hands trace every inch of my skin, with his fingers, with his tongue. Never felt his absence like a disease and his presence like a cure.

Not the way I do with Andrei, whom I loved.

I was done running, both literally and figuratively. I hopped off the treadmill and grabbed a towel. My vest and yoga pants clung to my body, soaking with sweat. Wrinkling my nose, I headed for the showers, quickly shedding my clothes in the locker room. None of the stalls were occupied and I heaved a sigh of relief as I claimed one. I needed to be alone with my thoughts.

But of course, nothing ever goes according to plan for me.

“So tell me,” a smooth voice said from the other side of the curtain, “would you like me to kill Mr. Holland quickly, or slowly? Or should I finish him quickly, and save the slow and painful death for Mr. Lawless?”

“Andrei?” I sputtered, pulling the curtain aside and staring at him incredulously. Even though I was shocked, it didn’t lessen my response to seeing him, especially when he was all in black. “You can’t be in here! These aren’t communal showers.”

“Ask me if I give a fuck. Tell me why Selene felt the need to call me.”

“I have… no idea,” I said breathlessly, the slam of the hot water against my back paling next to the flood of heat between my thighs. Steam swirled around us, its grey fingers curling and flexing. “Wait a minute. Is Selene in the gym?”

“But of course,” said another male voice.

I hissed out a curse when I recognized the blond lanky guy stepping beside Andrei. He had Selene’s blue eyes and was wearing a simple white tee and black running shorts.

“It’s only Selene,” Andrei muttered when I cowered behind the curtain again.

“Steven, my lord,” the guy corrected.

“Whatever.”

God, this was weird. I poked my head around the curtain, staring at Selene, Steven, as if I’d never seen a blond guy before.

“Thank you, Selene. You may leave us,” Andrei continued, and Selene instantly disappeared. It was a good thing, too. If any woman came in to shower, they’d think I was some kind of whore, entertaining two men in a public place. This was my gym.

“Well?” Andrei’s voice could’ve cut through diamonds.

I let the curtain fall away. “Well, what?”

“Did I not tell you not to see that hunter?”

“He came to see me, Andrei,” I said quickly. “And Selene actually knew who he was? What a fucking snitch. It was nothing. I chased him away and…”

“You’re hoping I fuck you in this shower, aren’t you?”

I was all screwed up in the head. One minute he was mad about Daniel and Jared, and the next, he was teasing me with filthy words. His hard, menacing tone was making my sensitive nub throb, my belly growing taut in anticipation. When he was mad, his eyes took on a stormy color. Or they flickered a strange red. They were dark and stormy right then.

“Won’t they call you a slut?” He folded his arms across his broad chest, regarding my naked body with hunger in his eyes. “When you’re pushed up against the wall with my cock fucking you, won’t they call you a slut?”

“Probably,” I whimpered, my breathing erratic.

“You’re not getting my cock,” he spat, stepping even closer to me. The ceramic floor of the shower stall was elevated from the ground but I was still nowhere near his height. Towering over me, he reached out and turned the water off. “I can smell your pussy. Why are you so wet when you’re not getting my cock?”

Desire thrummed in my veins. My pulse raced. I desperately needed to be joined with him.

“Andrei,” I whispered.

“Touch yourself.”

“But…”

“Close your eyes,” he said sharply, “and touch yourself. Or I will kill Mr. Holland. Decapitate him, perhaps.” The hardness in his eyes said that he was serious. “Or turn him into a eunuch.”

Instead of fighting him, I shut my eyes and cupped my breasts. They ached. The tips felt like hard pebbles and I pulled them, pulling them with trembling fingers.

I heard Andrei’s heavy breathing and knew that I wasn’t the only one turned on. The sound made every inch of my body hum with desire. My touch became more frantic. Could I honestly climax just by tugging my nipples? Was I that sensitive?

“Slower,” Andrei grunted.

This was ridiculous. Anyone could stroll into the showers after sweating it off in the gym. They could find me fondling my breasts for a man. And the image only made me wetter.

I trailed a hand down my belly, traced my navel. I reached lower, and circled my clitoris with my thumb, wanting to prolong the torture. Instead, I went for a home run and cupped my mound.

I shuddered as I stuck my forefinger inside the wet heat and pressed down on my clit.

“Ah,” I sighed, dipping another finger inside me. My eyes squeezed tighter as my inner muscles clamped around my fingers. “Oh, Andrei.”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Fuck yourself for me.”

The knot in my belly grew tighter as I came closer and closer to tipping over the edge. The squelching sound my fingers made as they thrust into my pussy seemed to echo in the empty shower room. I was panting, gasping for air that seemed pungent with the scent of my wet, inflamed sex.

“Come for me, baby.”

Maybe it was the way Andrei’s voice grew soft, reverent, as if he was in awe of what I was doing. Maybe it was the final rub of my swollen clit. Maybe it was the way he rasped the endearment I found so sexy on his tongue. Or maybe it was the combination of all three. Because before I knew it, I came with a scream, eyes still closed as I surrendered to the intense sensation I was creating.

I leaned against the wall, catching my breath and opening my eyes.

“Disgusting,” someone rebuked. “I’ll shower at home.”

Through heavy-lidded eyes, I realized that that someone was Mrs. Simon. She was turning to leave, silver grey head bowed as she quickly scuttled out the otherwise empty room.

I was absolutely mortified that my fourth-grade teacher just caught me masturbating.

So that was my cruel and unusual punishment.