Read Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series Online

Authors: Robyn Peterman

Tags: #Paranormal Romance, #Romantic Comedy

Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series (7 page)

BOOK: Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series
4.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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"Yes… well, I'm, ummm… sorry about that," I mumbled and almost laughed at the puzzled look of shock on Raquel's face.

 

"Why am I here?" Raquel studiously avoided my intense scrutiny of her. She was dressed casually in yoga pants and a t-shirt that hugged her breasts to perfection.

 

"Because… " Astrid started uncertainly.

 

"Because we decided that after I train Jean Paul for a bit, you and I could show Samuel some more intricate moves," I explained, pulling the first thing I could think of out of my very sore ass.

 

Astrid's covert nod of approval made my tense body relax.

 

Raquel's eyes narrowed slightly but she shrugged and took a seat next to the mat. "Fine. It's your funeral," she mumbled with a charming smile.

 

"That it is," I shot back with a grin of my own. I also prayed my libido stayed in check while we sparred. I didn't really need to explain erections to Sammy. "You ready, Jean Paul?"

 

"I am," he said as he bowed formally to me. "Weapons or hand-to-hand?"

 

"Hand-to-hand," I replied as I returned his bow. "Center of the mat. Relax and blindfold yourself."

 

"Blindfold, sir?"

 

"Yep. It's all about feeling the energy. If you want to be the best, you need to be able to feel your enemy, not just see them," I said as I handed him a blindfold and put one on myself.

 

There were two reasons I did this. One—I would be more focused if I couldn't see Raquel. Two—if I couldn't see her, the potential problem in my pants was more likely to stay calm.

 

Win—win.

 

"Begin," I instructed quietly.

 

Jean Paul was less sure of himself without his sight and became aggressive and sloppy. His punches were strong, but it was easy to take him down.

 

"Feel me," I commanded. "Don't punch air. Don't waste one single movement."

 

I demonstrated my instruction with a jab to his head that left him disoriented and on the floor.

 

"This is foreign to me," he grunted. I felt him stand back up and take a defensive position. "I need to see."

 

"No," I admonished him. “You don't. Trust your senses and find me. There is power in stillness. Stop flailing about."

 

He stood quietly and centered himself. To an average observer, it would seem as if nothing was happening. However, they would be very wrong. Jean Paul had found his inner sight and the power that welled from him was impressive. Not enough to make me shudder, but I was the very best. Very few stood a chance against me. Not ego—just fact.

 

"Take me down," I taunted. "If you can do it, I’ll give you a favor of your choosing."

 

"A rare gift." Jean Paul chuckled and his body tensed. "And if I fail?"

 

"You'll owe me a favor."

 

I felt him consider the offer. Then he struck. And it was glorious.

 

Violent and balletic, we fought with aggression and purpose. With each punch and roundhouse kick, I felt him grow stronger. I back flipped out of the way as a vicious right hook came at my face. I came right back with a scissor kick to his head that brought him down.

 

Pinning him to the floor, he struggled and tried to regain the upper hand, but it was over.

 

"A fine try, but not good enough," I hissed in his ear.

 

"I want to go again," he grunted as I let up on his throat.

 

"No… no more today. Wear the blindfold when you aren't on guard and find your center while you're without sight. If you can't… you're worthless."

 

"I am not worthless," he spat as he removed the material from his eyes.

 

"We shall see," I countered with a grin.

 

He was correct, but telling him would be counterproductive. The over protective Frenchman had balls, and training him would be a good distraction. Plus, it would ensure some time to grill him for information—he owed me a favor. Again… win—win. "You're excused, Jean Paul. Go shower and think about what I've said. Tomorrow at eleven again?"

 

"I will be here, sir. Thank you." He bowed to me and then checked in with his Princess. With a few quietly exchanged words and a quick nod, he left the training room.

 

Raquel stood and watched me. Her eyes strayed from my face to my body. Color suffused her cheeks and I could scent her desire. Suddenly Astrid's shirtless directive seemed like a brilliant idea—not that I would ever admit that to my cousin. She'd become a bossy monster.

 

"Are you ready?" I inquired, meaning so much more than the simple question.

 

"I'm always ready," she said calmly. "P.S.—I like my arm. You remove it again and you lose your head."

 

"Noted." I grinned and bowed to her. "I'm not guaranteeing that I won't go for your overactive middle finger."

 

"This one?" she asked as she flipped me off with a grin on her face.

 

I chuckled and willed my dick to stay asleep. "Yep, that's the one."

 

"Oh shit," Astrid shouted.

 

"Shit," Samuel yelled with joy.

 

"Sammy," Astrid reprimanded him. "Shit is a filthy fucking word. We don't say shitty words like that. You got it?"

 

"Yep, Mommy. Me got it."

 

"It's the Baby Demons teaching him that crap," she muttered as she stood up and headed for the door.

 

"Crap," Sammy shouted and lifted his middle finger to me and Raquel.

 

"Oh Hell no," Raquel whispered in horror as she watched him wave his chunky little birdie finger all over the place.

 

"Where are you going?" I called after Astrid as she hightailed it out of the gym.

 

"I forgot I had a meeting with the motherfucking wedding planner at noon. I'll be back when I can. Don't you two do anything I wouldn't do," she shouted as she left the room.

 

Well, that certainly didn't leave much.

 

"Motherfucking," Sammy squealed as they exited the facility.

 

We stared at each other in silence. Her beauty humbled me. I wanted her to stay. I wanted to throw her to the floor and kiss her senseless. However, that was not the gentlemanly thing to do.

 

Fuck. What would Astrid do? Grinning at the absurd thought of taking advice from my insane cousin, I decided to stick to the plan already made.

 

“You still want to fight?" I asked Raquel.

 

"Sure. I would love to kick your ass," she purred.

 

"I'd love to bite yours," I shot back.

 

"If you win, I'll let you… but if I win you have to do my bidding for a day."

 

Holy Hell—either way I won. "That works for me, Princess.”

 

“Excellent, my bathroom is filthy,” she purred with an evil smile.

 

I chuckled and shrugged. She was full of it. The cleaning staff at the compound was outstanding. Her effort to rile me was moot.

 

“Show me what you got."

 

"My pleasure," she said as she centered herself and took a defensive stance on the mat.

 

"No. Trust me—the pleasure is mine."

 

All mine.

 

Chapter 6

 

I was inclined to go easy on her. My mistake.

 

"After last night I thought I wouldn't see much of you anymore," she said as she violently kicked my legs out from beneath me and tried to pin me.

 

"You thought wrong," I shot back as I flipped her to her back and held her immobile.

 

Her body beneath mine was a temptation almost impossible to ignore. However, her need to best me or tear a limb from my body made me push all thoughts of stripping and fucking her to the back of my brain.

 

"Can we use magic?" she asked as she twisted and attempted to pull free.

 

"Nope."

 

Her hips were in line with mine and I could have sworn she was grinding herself against me. Son of a bitch.

 

"Are you cheating?" I whispered in her ear. Her breasts were smashed against my bare chest and the evidence of my arousal was impossible to miss.

 

"Possibly," she whispered back with a soft giggle. "Is it working?"

 

Pressing my erection against her stomach and nipping at her earlobe was my answer. Her groan almost set me on fire. Next move was hers. My fangs had descended from my gums and I knew my eyes blazed green. I studied her lovely face and was delighted to see that her eyes and fangs matched mine. We were both in need.

 

Leaning into her, I traced her full lips with my tongue. She tasted like Heaven and sin and woman. She opened her lips and invited me in. My head spun and I lost sight of the fact we were in a public place. Actually, I didn't give a damn.

 

Her eyes fluttered shut and it took everything I had to explore gently. Every instinct I had was to make her mine for eternity, but she needed to be with me on that one. I would wait until she wanted the same thing. I knew in my gut she wanted it—had known for hundreds of years she wanted it, but something stopped her. This time I would find out.

 

I wanted her body, her heart and her soul. I was going to win. I always won my battles. I'd just never fought one this long.

 

The burning desire to be buried deep inside of her was all-consuming, but sex was a bad idea. God damn it, wait… Why was it a bad idea? Her body writhing beneath mine had my brain spinning out of control. Yet I knew I had to stop. I would win the skirmish but lose the war if I banged her on the gym floor. Fuck.

 

"Can't play hide the salami today," I muttered as I disengaged myself. "Can't do it."

 

"What did you just say?" she asked. Her cheeks were flushed and she was grinning. "Did you just refer to your equipment as a salami?"

 

"Of course not," I mumbled. Then I groaned as I rolled off her and ran my hands through my hair in frustration. "All right, I did, but it's entirely Astrid's fault. We're not supposed to bump uglies or do the horizontal hula anymore."

 

"Ummm… okay," she said as she tried not to laugh. "Can I ask why?"

 

"No."

 

We both stared at the ceiling for a while. What was my next move here?

 

"Are we done fighting?" she asked.

 

There were several ways to answer that one. "Literally or figuratively?"

 

"That's kind of loaded, don't you think?" she replied.

 

I glanced over at her on the floor beside me. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled. She had never been more beautiful and I'd never been more at a loss as to what to do.

 

"Astrid bet me that we couldn't be friends," I lied.
Fuck, where did that come from?

 

"What did you bet?" She sat up as her eyes grew wide with excitement.

 

Lying was never the best policy, but knowing Raquel was a sucker for a bet or a dare spurred me on. "My fleet of cars," I answered, compounding the lie tremendously. I figured I should just phone Satan and reserve a suite, but she giggled and I couldn't stop myself. "My
entire
fleet of cars," I added as I hoped God and Astrid would forgive me.

 

"Holy shit," she muttered. She knew my car collection. "What do you get from her if you win?"

 

"She has to pole dance with Mother Nature at the next formal gathering," I said as I imagined my cousin ripping me from limb to limb. Astrid was going to kill me dead.

 

"Piece of cake," she said as she laughed. "You will win and Astrid will dance."

 

"Really?" Could it be this easy? Did lying work? "You'll be my friend?"

 

"What exactly does being your friend entail?"

 

"Well, we would talk and be civil instead of trying to kill each other," I said slowly, wondering how much I could get away with. I was headed to Hell anyway, might as well make it worth it.

 

"I could probably make that work," she said as she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her slim thighs.

 

"We would hang out and get to know each other better," I added and waited for her to belt me.

 

"How much?" she asked suspiciously.

 

"Probably a lot in the beginning. How long are you here?"

 

"Not sure yet," she said as she rested her chin on her knees. "So no sex?"

 

"No, no sex," I croaked as we both stared at my raging erection. "Well, maybe if we talked the entire time and got to know each other while we fucked."

 

"You mean like in between each thrust, you ask me my favorite color or favorite board game?" she inquired with a raised brow and a smirk.

 

"That sounds somewhat complicated," I said.

 

"And mood killing," she added.

 

"How about after each orgasm we ask three questions?" I bargained.

 

"I get two and you get one?"

 

"No, we each get three." I shook my head and grinned.

 

"Two," she negotiated.

 

I pretended to consider her counter, but I would have said yes to one question after every tenth orgasm. The deal was pretty damn good.

 

"I can work with that."

BOOK: Fashionably Hotter Than Hell: Book Six, The Hot Damned Series
4.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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