Dangerous Ties

6

Groaning under his breath, Jackson rolled off Nikki. “Damn, that was—”

Relieved of his massive weight, Nikki sat up, combing her fingers though tangles of long blond hair. Cascading around her bare shoulders, it reached almost to the middle of her back. The stuff was definitely out of control.

“Fucking fabulous,” she finished, delightfully sated and still panting a little. Deep inside she still trembled from the incredible orgasm they’d shared. His blood stained the tips of her fingers. Looking at her hands, she believed it was the most sensually erotic sight in the world, as if she’d taken communion of his flesh even as his seed filled her womb.

One corner of his mouth quirking into a sexy smile, Jackson reached for his cigarettes on the bedside table. He selected one.

“Fucking fabulous,” he agreed, giving her an artful wink. The tip flared with a brief flame. The scent of dark, rich tobacco filled the air around them with its heady, enticing scent.

Yawning and stretching, Nikki cuddled up against him, laying her head between his flat male nipples and curling a posses sive leg over both his. His flaccid penis snuggled in its thatch, its hungers momentarily sated. Her mouth watered at the sight of it. His sweat-musk scent teased her senses, arousing her all over again.

Nikki thought about leaning down and sucking him back to erection, then decided not to. It felt so good just being beside him. Their bodies had fit together so well that it felt like they’d been created for each other. She’d never before met a man who made her shiver and moan the way Jackson Sullivan did.

He was definitely worth going to hell for. She almost found it impossible to believe such a gorgeous piece of hunk was a demon. That boggled the mind. Everything she knew about demons—very little, actually—painted them as ugly, twisted little creatures with glowing red eyes, mouthfuls of sharp fangs, and misshapen bodies. There was definitely nothing misshapen about Jackson. His whole physique had clearly been sculpted by the hands of a loving creator.

As for the postcoital smoke, well, she could use a puff herself. Lifting her hand, she made that gesture so familiar to other smokers.

Taking a final drag, Jackson handed it over.

Nikki positioned the tip between her lips, inhaled, and said, “So if this is hell where’d the cigarettes come from?”

Jackson released a long stream of white smoke through his nostrils. “Contraband from good old earth,” he said. “We’ve got a good supply of booze, and enough drugs to keep us senseless for centuries. We do appreciate mankind and their ability to create all these self-destructive devices.”

Nikki took another drag. “Sounds like you’ve got a perpetual party going on here,” she commented dryly. Hell was starting to sound like a pretty good place to ride out eternity. A good-looking man, drugs, and booze. Shit, better than being alive. She supposed that as one of the dead she wouldn’t have to worry too much about hangovers or overdoses.

He licked his fine lips. “This is hell, babe. Here we embrace and revel in the forbidden.”

“Sex, drugs, and rock and roll sounds pretty fucking okay to me.” She pumped her fist into the air. The ashes flicked from her cigarette vanished midair. You couldn’t beat the maid service in this place. No doubt the bed would replenish itself with fresh linen if left to its own devices.

She sighed happily. “Are you sure this isn’t heaven, Jackson? If I’d known this was waiting for me, I’d have made arrangements to get here sooner.”

“I can assure you this is hell.” As he spoke, the chiming of what sounded like mission bells rang in the distance. They rang on, twelve strikes echoing through the chamber.

Jackson slipped off the bed before the last chime had faded, moving with an inborn predatory grace. Sinew and muscle rippled across his shoulders and down his back. Aside from drying flecks of blood, no sign of the vicious scratches she’d raked into his pale skin during lovemaking remained. He’d healed completely. Not even a scar remained.

Hardly surprising. He wasn’t human.

“What’s that?” Nikki asked.

Eyes narrowing, his copper-green gaze slipped on a sinister glint. “We have company, darling Nikki.” A single muscle twitched in his jaw. His smile chilled. “It’s time for you to meet the rest of your eternal companions.”

Eternal companions?

A bitter shimmy went down her spine as the same time a gut-level sense of terror began its spread through her bowels. In the span of seconds, something about Jackson had changed, bringing a sense of revulsion that made her skin crawl and the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise. The air around him shifted and momentarily thickened. The cloying smell of sulfur singed her nostrils.

Nikki struggled to swallow past the lump forming in her throat. This was a surprise. She hadn’t expected—or suspected—that there might be other demons lurking in the midst. The blood in her veins turned to icy water.

Demons that might also be wanting to stake a claim on a nice piece of her ass.

This news did not bode well.

At all.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a minute. Damned if she’d be afraid. “So you’re not the only one?” Her voice nevertheless sounded a little thin and strained, hardly recognizable to her own ears.

Still smiling that hellishly icy smile, Jackson shook his head. “Oh, no. Our numbers are infinite. There are a lot of very horny men in the parlor waiting to take a turn with you.”

Nikki wavered. The shit was slowly seeping past her neck. Soon she’d be in over her head, for sure. “Infinite?” she parroted. Having sex with Jackson was acceptable. Adding two or three or even four? No sweat. She’d participated in a few gangbangs, had gotten off on the thrill of having more than one man at a time to satisfy that lust-laced hunger constantly burning in her core. She couldn’t claim she hadn’t enjoyed it either. She’d been stone-cold sober and more than willing every time.

He bent over, catching a handful of her silky hair and letting it sift through his fingers. “You’re a special one, Nikki Malone. I haven’t had a soul like yours through here in ages. It’s been a pleasure abusing you.” His fingers slid along her cheek, under her chin, tipping back her head. “And it’s going to last until the end of time.”

Nikki thought a moment. “Guess there’s no way I can repent for my sins before this little group sex party gets started?” She eyed his naked body. “Keep this between you and me, you know?”

Jackson snorted. “Oh, don’t worry, my dear. I’ll have you again. And again.” He lifted a single brow. Lust flashed in the depths of his eyes. “We’ve only just begun our own little affair.”

That promise didn’t sound very reassuring at the moment.

So what am I supposed to do now?

The answer arrived with crystal clarity.

There was nothing she could do.

Nikki sighed and tossed her hands into the air. “What the fuck?” she said. “Let’s get going.”

Pure unadulterated surprise colored Jackson’s features. She could have knocked him over with a feather. “That’s it?”

Prickling like a cactus, Nikki shot him a look that would have had the punch to knock him dead—if he’d been alive to begin with. “What do you want me to do, Jackson? Cry because someone’s going to get a little bit of tail? Shit. It’s not like a few dicks will wear me out.” She shot him a saccharine smile. “Right now I have a feeling I’ve got the tightest goddamned cunt in hell. And she who holds the pussy has the power.”

Jackson’s burst of laughter was unexpected, but welcome. “If no one else,” he chuckled, “you do belong here, Nikki.”

Trying to appear relaxed, Nikki bunched her fingers into the sheets around her. “So when do I meet the others?”

“We should go now,” he said. “They’re waiting.”

She cocked a brow toward him. “Naked?”

Jackson looked down at himself. “Ah.” He made a brief gesture with one hand. Barely had a blink passed and there he stood, fully dressed in a formal black tuxedo, complete with vest and bowtie.

Nikki’s brows rose. She’d almost, just almost, detected the moment when the change occurred. Slick. And very convenient. She’d like to learn that little trick herself. What woman wouldn’t want to be able to snap her fingers and appear fully dressed, with perfect hair and makeup done like a movie star.

Jackson looked like he’d just stepped out of a cover shoot for GQ. The tux fit his perfect body like a glove. “It’s a formal orgy, I assume?”

“Of course. We’re not savages here.” He winked. “Just a group of nondenominational pagans on a quest to have a little fun.”

“There’s a song in there,” she commented as an aside. “Who would have thought that demons were fashion conscious?”

“We keep up with everything going on in the modern world,” Jackson said.

“I didn’t know hell had a direct link with planet Earth.”

“Satellite, actually,” Jackson explained.

“You’re kidding, right?”

He sighed. “Hell isn’t all parties all the time. Some days it’s absolutely boring. There’s already so much that’s wrong in the world that no one needs us to throw a little angst into their lives. Humankind seems bent on reaching the end of days as soon as possible. Pity when there’s so many forbidden pleasures to be savored.”

She shrugged. “Good point.”

He held out a hand. “Everyone is waiting. Shall we go?”

Nikki cleared her throat, indicating her own obvious nakedness. “If you seriously think I am walking in a room full of demons naked…” She shivered. “You have another thought coming.”

Jackson lifted his brows with wicked intent. “I could always carry you in.”

Nikki challenged his warm gaze with a cool one of her own. “Kicking and screaming wouldn’t make a good presentation at all,” she countered, able to level her tone this time. “No one wants to fuck a hysterical woman.”

Brows lifting, Jackson rocked back on his heels, contemplating her. “I thought I already did,” he countered cheekily.

Nikki frowned. “I wasn’t hysterical. I was just having a moment.”

Jackson rubbed his mouth in the place she’d smacked. “And I enjoyed every moment of your moment.”

“Don’t be a smartass, please. Just get me some fucking clothes.”

He considered. “Hmm. Fucking clothes. I think I can manage that just fine. Stand up, if you would.”

Nikki slid off the bed. She squelched the urge to cover her breasts and privates. Jackson had already and thoroughly ravaged every inch and then some. Her rear still hurt from the invasion of his massive cock.

He snapped his fingers. “Allow me.”

Nikki glanced down. “Shit.” She speared him with a glare. “Is this a joke, Jackson?”

He’d dressed her, all right. In a hot-pink halter-style baby-doll gown, all see-through lace. The confection included a teeny-tiny lace thong and lacy pink thigh-high hose. Her feet were crammed into lace-up stiletto sandals with a heel at least 6 inches high.

Nikki scrunched up her face. Frills definitely weren’t her style. “Oh, shit,” she groused. “It looks like someone puked pink spiders all over me.” She wobbled on the tiny sticklike heels. Her feet threatened to rebel. Whoever had created these devious devices of torture clearly hated women. High heels definitely had to be a demon’s twisted creation. The only good thing about them was they made her legs look twice as long, muscular, and very shapely.