Demons of Desire (Half-Breed Series Book 1)(8)

By: Debra Dunbar

Darci grimaced. “Okay, so having sex with crazies and criminals wouldn’t be my choice either, but how about those hot guys who treat women like a nameless piece of ass? They’re fun to bang. You don’t care about seeing them afterward, and it would be a karmic kind of revenge. Yeah, you’d be like Batman for all us jilted women.”

I might be half demon, but at times like this, I truly wondered about Darci’s parentage.

“You’re really hung up on this vigilante–with–license–to–fuck thing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a decent idea, but it would take me forever to research my ‘victims’. I wouldn’t want to nail some blameless guy just because a bitter ex–girlfriend made up an ugly story.”

“True.” She pursed her lips, tapping the edge of her glass with a finger. “Okay, let’s forget about the whole crime–fighting succubus thing. How about guys who like one–night stands? Cute, non–criminal ones.”

That gave me pause. There were plenty of men out there who didn’t want a relationship, who would relish a fleeting moment of passion. Maybe I just needed to narrow down my candidate pool to those who were looking for what I was best suited to give.

“And don’t think I’m not connecting the dots between this revelation of yours and that sexy ‘life coach’ you’re running away from. Spill it, girl.”

Damn Darci. Nothing got past her. I took a long swig of the beverage and rubbed my temple — a combination of the cold drink and topic change giving me a sudden headache.

“He’s a full sex demon sent from Hel to help me better control my ‘urges’. I’m not willing to turn into the amoral succubus he wants me to be. He’s pissed that I won’t go all Mata Hari on every guy I see, so we’re at a bit of an impasse.”

“And you want him,” Darci prompted, her dark eyes gleaming with vicarious excitement.

I rested the cold glass against my suddenly feverish forehead. “You should see him. Zac Efron would look fugly next to him. Damn … he’s just… .”

“Pics? Why have I not seen this sexy demon on Instagram yet?”

I grimaced. “He’s got an ego the size of a house. I’m not going to let him catch me snapping his picture with my phone, or include him in a selfie. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Darci leaned closer. “Okay then, describe him. If you’re this worked up about a guy, he’s got to be a god.”

He was. Everything any woman or man ever wanted. Either the way he looked now, or otherwise. A flash of light and he could be anything — man, woman, blond, dark, tall, thin, muscular. Dream, and he would oblige. This was the magic of a sex demon — an ultimate fantasy in the flesh.

“Demons can change form like an outfit, but for me he’s always appeared to be a Mediterranean playboy — high cheekbones, sharp jaw and chin, with olive skin. His eyes are very light brown — like a tiger’s–eye gemstone, and he’s got the darkest brown hair. It’s so soft — like silk, like mink. I just want to bury my face in it, to fist it in my hands all night long.”

That was a huge admission. I was on a roll, pouring my entire obsession across our table, knowing that Darci would sympathize. She was like my confessor — a voyeuristic confessor.

“Oh. My. God.”

I couldn’t stop. “We fight, and when he’s angry with me, he’s even sexier. It’s all I can do to keep from jumping him. His eyes glow like molten gold, and his lips — oh, his lips. So full and soft. To lick them, to bite them, would be a little bit of heaven.”

My imagination ran wild envisioning kissing Irix. He’d taste of rum and bitter–sweet chocolate, and the skin across his chest and down would have a tang of salt and sun. A trail of soft, light hair would lead the way toward his hips. My hands on his ass would feel the solid tightness of his muscles. He’d be rock against me, urging—


Darci’s voice was raw, full of need, and I looked up to realize I’d been releasing my pheromones in a tide across the room. Most of the occupants of the restaurant were looking my way with intent, and my own friend was seriously turned on. Shit. How could I do this without even intending to? I had only to think of Irix and I was halfway to orgasm.

I ratcheted it down a few notches and grimaced. “Sorry.”

My friend shook her head, and the look in her eyes made me feel like everything would be okay — not just today, but for the rest of my life.

“Good Lord, girl. Anybody that does that to you isn’t somebody you should be running away from. Take this week to get your head on straight then go back home, or to hell or wherever, and reel that man in like a fish on a line.”