Strum: virgin captive of the billionaire demon rock star monster (The Squirm Files) (3 page)

Mr. T. Rex made her sit at the front, in a special row of seats.

“Stay there.” He leaned in from behind and murmured beside her ear. “You move and my guys have orders to hold you for the cops under charges of stealing. Trust me. We can prove it.”

Her indignant gasp didn’t impact on him at all and she watched him move away into the crowd.

Dayum
.
Just because he was top of the food chain.

She was off to the left of the stage but three yards from a bank of speakers high enough to tempt King Kong
to climb it with a virgin in his grasp.

The next song began with a strident chord from
Zagan’s golden Stratocaster that made her brain spring a leak through her ears. His wide-legged, pelvic strutting routine was classic Zagan. His
Sneering Donkeys Spunk Rock
T-shirt, plastered with an image of guitar-playing purple donkeys with nuclear explosions coming out their asses, was classic Purgatory wear.

Why had she not recognized
him? It was
He.
Him. The guy at the party. Only this time his eyes were bare of sunglasses, revealing his burning flames contact lenses. As he slashed his hand across the strings and led the band into the heart of the song, his eyes focused on her.

Her breath stopped. Her heart stood still then took off like a
cat at a meeting of violin enthusiasts.

With
the beat turning the rest of her brains to jelly, she recalled how the floor had crackled toward her. For a moment the stage seemed to shimmy and bow up at the sides as if stretching into a circle with him at the center.

Kinky.
Nervously she checked the nearest load-bearing beams. Maybe she should have brought an architect with her?

Psst
. Need oxygen
.

She breathe
d and things were sort of okay again. Spiders on the drum kit? Normal for Purgatory. The evil clown, she was reserving judgment on.

The hall turned into a battlefield of ripples and flashes of light, a war of music where the casualties were the audience. Men
screamed and swayed in time. A mosh pit formed to the side. Women leaped up and down and danced from the waist up while sitting on their boyfriends’ shoulders. Some fainted. Several had their heads spin in circles and their panties burst into flame.

Though
boyfriends threw themselves atop the women to smother the flames, from the writhing bodies and the squeals of
ohmigod
and
oooh
, it rarely seemed to work.

Concerned security guards roamed vigilantly
with fire extinguishers to put out the fires. A few girls exploded entirely and had to be scraped off the walls.

Mortalities
were to be expected at a Purgatory concert.

The show must have taken hours but not once did she take her eyes off
Zagan, nor his off hers. They were riveted together like a pair of electrically welded joints on a table. It made for a lot of tripping over power cables onstage, and Zagan almost lost an eye on a mic stand but neither of them seemed able to resist the other.

At the end, when peopl
e around her were filing out or screaming for more, she stayed where she was until the place was empty. The band left. Security still watched her and had told her to stay put despite her glares. Then he returned.

Zagan
vaulted down to where she sat and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

How could she resist?
Not only did his irises seem on fire when seen this close, his groin throbbed alarmingly like something in there was desperate to get out. Her mouth dropped open but she resisted drooling.

Must not drool.
In the low light, there was a distinct red glow too. The crotch of his black pants glowed? Did he have a glow stick shoved down there? A torch? Would it fit? She tilted her head.

“Come. With me,” he repeated, sounding only slightly exasperated at her being fixated on his cock.

Her well-trained schlong detector said unreadable.

A mystery?
Hmm. She hated those. The itch to discover what lurked within nibbled at her. She so needed to get this man’s pants off. For clinical reasons, of course.

“Sure.”
She reached for his hand and raised her eyes to meet his.

Boom.
Some vital essence of hers recognized his as being the matching element her heart and body needed for life to go on. Butterflies took flight inside her stomach, followed by a herd of antelope and a few flying unicorns in a full-on romantic stampede. Rainbows made their way from pyloric valve to esophagus. Her spleen fainted. It was getting messy in there. She put her palm on her gurgling belly.

Love.
Insta-love. She had it bad.

Wasn’t there some injection for that?

Tomorrow she should see a doctor.

Virginia
inhaled and completed the movement she’d begun what seemed like hours ago. She put her hand in his.

A
spark travelled between them.
Zzzap.
Excruciating pain sizzled up her arm. She snatched back her hand and screamed. The lights dimmed. High above, huge purple sparks crackled from ceiling strut to ceiling strut. Some creature let out a startled meow then a hiss.

“What the damn fuck. Shit!” She shook her
fingers trying to get the pain to lessen. “Fuck. Was that some crazy static electricity thing, man? Are you wearing velvet or something?”

He was shaking his fingers too. “No, I do not wear velvet.
I’m a rock star! Denim. See?” He plucked at his jeans.

When he went to take her hand
again, she gingerly accepted.
Phew. Nothing.

They walked past
cleaners shoving piles of litter with brooms. A cat stalked by and shot an accusatory glare at them. Tendrils of smoke rose from its fur. She slowed. Should she get the SPCA to look at the poor kitty? She looked about. Where was the pervert who’d set its fur on fire?

Zagan
dragged her onward.

In his dressing room the legendary golden Stratocaster rested against the wall. She eyed it but
nothing more. Rumor said it was really gold and that no one except Zagan could pick it up without getting a hernia.

He poured them both a glass of
scotch then pulled up a leather lounge chair and sat opposite the sofa she reclined on. From under his brow, through the pale strands of his hair, he looked out.

Such wonderful evil eyes.
She shivered.

A caged man,
swirling the liquid in the glass, which made his biceps push deliciously at the sleeves of his shirt. His ragged and mostly short, white hair seemed to beg her to run her fingers through it.

His manner suggested a man on the verge of admitting himself to a psychiatric hospital or organizing a worldwide charity
for starving orphans, and he stared at the floor so much that she hitched forward to peer at it, to make sure nothing was happening down there.

Zagan
Grimm. He was dark. Apart from his white hair. He was brooding. He was a rock star with a guitar and tonsils of gold, and she wanted him so much.

No.
Mustn’t. Be a good almost-virgin.
Not only had she promised Dangerous Bob that she’d behave, she’d promised herself. If she’d been going to marry Karl whatsit, she must have liked him, a lot.

But...instincts were instinct
s. He was hot and she was female.

With her legs bent and drawn up onto the sofa, she could squeeze her thighs together without making a fuss, and not look like she was desperate to
orgasm. She whimpered quietly.

Sexy man.
Fuuuuuuck.
Her alphabet allowance was depleted. She needed more
U’
s to spell that fuck. Her diamond-hard perky nipples were sawing holes in the front of her T-shirt.

The flames in his eyes flickered and embers fell slowly through the air into the glass, hissing
as they hit the golden liquid.

“Wow.”
To distract herself from the throbbing between her legs, she nodded at the glass. “That’s some magic trick.”

“It’s not one.
Did you know the octopus on your tights is eating your pussy?”

His deep voice rumbled like a train bearing down on her, and she was tied to the tracks, unable to escape, waiting for him to run her over.

Do it, baby. Choo, chooo.

“No shit.” She smiled,
controlling her breathing and trying not to faint. What an intelligent, wonderful man.

“
I’m going to lay it all out. I can see you want me. I’m a demon. You’re a mortal. You’ll die if I fuck you too much. I’m too much for a sweet girl like you. So...” He heaved in a breath. “Now that that’s out of the way, you’re going to tell me why you’re here and then when we settle that, you’ll run away before I drag you onto the floor and ravish you.”

Dayum
. Be still my beating heart.

Her voice went squeaky.
“You’d drag me to the floor and ravish me?”

“If yo
u stay too long, yes.” Those eyes turned up the heat by a few thousand degrees.

Amnesia, remember? She had a
fiancée. Whatsisface.

I must be good. I must be strong and resist.
Besides, there was some small detail about him being a demon and her dying.

She gulped.
“I’m engaged.”

“I know. I was there. I left early because of you.
Once I saw how it was between us. The desire.” He set down his glass then took her hand and kissed the palm. “The passion. I also know Karl has left this world. That party was an accident waiting to happen. So why are you here?”

He kissed her wrist
and she gave a tiny squeak and felt her womb clenching...which was odd. She was pretty sure it only did that if you were giving birth.

“Good point.
He has. Left.” Think. What did Dangerous Bob say to do? “I’m here because we need your help to bring him back. Dangerous Bob believes you are the only person capable of finding us, or making us, a new portal.”

Pulling her forward,
Zagan licked up her wrist all the way to the inside of her elbow. His voice was thick with lust. “You are irresistible.” Then he bit.

Eek
. Fire swept into her and after torching her mind turned around and scorched southward to her pussy. She was a blazing maelstrom in need of one of those fire extinguishers. Virginia wriggled and attempted to retrieve her elbow from his lips but nothing gave.

“I like this arm
where it is.” Zagan smiled, showing a row of strong white teeth. “Go on.”

She wrestled her breathing into submission.

“He also said to tell you that a special book called the Necrosexi-texmexicon came through the portal into this world just before the portal closed.”

“I see
.” His quiet growl seemed to threaten. ‘That’s important. Before you can bring back Karl, you will need to have this book. It must return to its world when he returns to this one. Balance is required. But it is an evil book. It contains everything that one can possibly know about sex. Every position. Every toy. Every sexual orientation from trans-Jehovah’s Witness to Martian hermaphrodite. Every detail you can imagine, it’s in there.”

“Sex is evil?”

“No, Virginia, the book is. There’s a difference. One more thing. To find the book, are you prepared to sacrifice yourself? Just the once.” His grip on her arm tightened.

Ulp
.
“Why?”

“Because I’m a reject demon, cut loose from Hell. To sense the book, I need power, and I get power by fucking women.
It’s why they threw me out. I made love too much.”

“You sinned?
A demon can sin?”

“No. Y
ou have it wrong. Sex isn’t sin; it’s pure goodness. I gooded too much.”

Made sense.

If
sacrifice herself
meant what she thought... “I thought it was too dangerous?”

He flipped
his hand. “A blow job will do. Better for you, if you don’t swallow.”

A moment
ago, he was too dangerous for her. She mustn’t, she mustn’t. But the lure of what was behind those glowing pants was slowly unravelling her thoughts.

“You want to,” he murmured.
“You have to.”

He pulled her further until she fell to her knees on the
floor. With his gaze pinning her there, despite her resistance, he drew her hand to his zip.

She moaned, anticipating.
“I can’t! I promised Bob.”

“
Why can’t you? This may save Karl.”

The push and pull of conscience and lust was about to tear her apart. Where was her helpful inner voice when she needed
guidance?