Lucifer's Daughter (6 page)

“Who told you to stay away?” he asked. “Bambi?”

I shook my head. “It doesn"t matter who. I make my own choices.”

“Sure you do; that"s why you were ignoring me and we sneaked out the side door like a dirty secret.”

“Oh, please,” I said breezily. “That was all part of the plan.”

“Plan? I"m probably going to regret asking this, but what plan?”

I froze for a second, my mind whirling. Did I divulge my devious plan to ignore him so he"d be intrigued and chase me? After all, it had worked. But if I told him, would he get pissed?

I decided on a half-truth. “I like a man to make the first move.”

My answer seemed to satisfy him, and we resumed walking, his thumb lazily stroking my hand.

This simple act had my libido in a heightened state of awareness, something I kept trying to tamp down.

“Not the talkative type, are you?” I said after we"d walked another block in silence. “I don"t suppose you"d like to tell me where we"re going?”

“Shh,” he said, putting a calloused finger against my lip.

I thought about biting his finger–and then licking it. A plan that I abstained from, when I saw him watching the dark around us intently. Had I been so distracted, that I"d forgotten safety rule number one? Always be aware of your surroundings. I"d had enough attempts on my life to know better than to let my guard down. Not to mention there still existed the possibility that one of Dad"s minions had caught our trail and followed us. That"s all I needed, Dad barging in on a romantic dinner. At least, I assumed Auric meant for this to be romantic. He hadn"t really explained why he wanted dinner with me. But back to the reality at hand. Possible danger.

I tuned my enhanced senses to the night around us and detected ... nothing. So I gave in to impulse and licked the finger that still rested against my lips.

Vivid green eyes turned to face me, and I grinned impishly before nipping his finger.

“Ow!” Auric pulled his offended digit away and scowled at me.

I smiled wider. “Don"t ever shush me,” I said.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was doing it for your own safety?”

“And did ever occur to you that I"m a big girl who can take care of herself?” The irony of it all, though, was I loved it when a guy got all medieval and protective. I just wished my feminist side would allow me to enjoy it.

“We"re here,” he said, in a change of subject.

I looked at the warehouse-type building in front of us with nary a sign of a restaurant to be seen.

“Is it a secret restaurant?” I asked.

“No, it"s called my kitchen,” he said, unlocking a heavy-duty, steel door.

“You cook?” I asked, as I followed him through the door and up a wide set of stairs.

“Very well, actually,” he said over his shoulder.

At this point, I shut up and tried to enjoy the view--or I would have, if his damn leather duster hadn"t been in the way. I wondered if he"d object to taking it off before walking up the rest of the stairs. Deciding this would be too forward even for me, I pondered instead the fact that he"d invited me to dinner in his apartment. Now, most girls would be thinking, “Wait a second, I barely know this guy. He could be a psycho,” but I"m not most girls. And I had a sneaky feeling Auric wasn"t most guys.

Besides, Dad would have a kitten if he knew I was here.

Three flights of stairs later, which left neither of us breathing hard–so he wasn"t just pretty muscle--he unlocked another riveted steel door and we entered his lair.

As man caves went, his ended up being rather disappointing. No red velvet. No chains hanging from the ceiling. No dim lighting or soft music playing. Instead, I walked into a cavernous space.

Being a converted warehouse, the ceiling stretched way above me, and had iron beams and piping running throughout, along with lighting suspended on steel wires. Tinted windows made up one wall, with a half-decent view of the city.

In one corner, he had some heavy-duty exercise equipment: punching bag, treadmill, weights, and various other contraptions of torture. The center of the room seemed to be a living-slash-dining area with an L-shaped leather couch facing a big screen television, and behind the couch area, a rather boring wooden kitchen table and four chairs.

The back wall had his kitchen area, with gleaming black cabinets and a granite countertop along with some serious stainless steel appliances, complete with an island and stools. Turned out he might have been serious when he said he could cook.

Glancing away from his kitchen, I looked over the rest of his place. The back end of his loft had been partially closed in and had two doors. More than likely a bathroom and storage.

And in the final corner of his abode, and this is where I perked up, he had one massive, I mean we"re talking gi-normous, bed. A four poster, wooden beast, piled high with pillows. Now there was a bed made for sinning.

“We can test it later, if you"d like,” he whispered in my ear, his hot breath making my knees go weak and my panties wet.

But I"d been propositioned before. “Sorry, but I"m holding out for love,” I said, before plopping my ass on one his stools.

Dead silence. Why was it, whenever I mentioned the L-word, men got tongue-tied?

“Wait a second,” Auric said, twirling the stool around so I face him. “Are you trying to tell me you"re still a virgin?”

I could tell by the look on his face, he found this hard to believe.

“One hundred percent virgin. Intact cherry and all the rest. Mind you, I"ve kissed and petted a bit before. Even made it to second base once.”

For a second his eyes went funny, and he opened his mouth twice as if to speak, but he swallowed hard instead. Saying nothing still, he moved away from me to stand behind the island and open the fridge to pull out stuff.

His lack of comment intrigued me. In the past, whenever I announced my untouched state, I then became inundated with impassioned speeches of how they were
the one
. A few even made false declarations of love. Unfortunately for them, my father didn"t raise a fool. In the end, I dumped them all. I wasn"t quite sure what love would look or feel like, but I somehow figured I"d know it when it finally hit me.

Watching Auric as he sliced, diced and sautéed his way around the kitchen, my heart fluttered–

and my pussy ached–and I think, in that moment, I realized I might have found
the one.

That revelation made me decide to put Auric to the test. I needed to find out now, before I got any more involved, if it would work. This meant a lot of honesty on my part, and I hoped his.

“Who taught you to cook?” I asked.

“I taught myself. It was that or starve. And you?”

“I"m better at cooking trouble,” I retorted, an answer which he rewarded with a chuckle. A sound that sent a shiver through my body and made my nipples take notice. Not one to waste an opportunity, I shrugged off my jacket and let my beamers do their trick.

It took him a second to notice, but when he did, and cut himself, I inwardly grinned. I might not be a succubus, but I knew how to get a man"s attention.

We chatted about inane things while he cooked–and I behaved. When the smells became mouthwatering, he finally scooped his masterpiece onto plates and carried them over to his scarred wooden table. I dug in and groaned in pleasure.

Sautéed chicken, mushrooms, onions, some veggies, and angel hair pasta. The man was a god of the kitchen.

“Oh, I hope you"re a chef in real life, because you"d be wasted doing anything else,” I said when I"d finished my plateful and leaned back to sip at the wine he"d served us.

“Cooking is my hobby.”

“So what do you do for work?” I asked, leaning forward.

“This and that,” he answered vaguely.

I frowned at him. “That"s not an answer.”

“I"m not at liberty to say, or I would.” He shrugged. “Besides, I"m more interested in you.”

I admit, while I found his air of mystery exciting, it also bothered me. Did he have something to hide, or did he mean what he said about wanting to know more about me? “Let me ask you something first. Is this a date?”

Auric"s brows lifted. “What else would it be? We"re in my apartment, eating a home-cooked meal with dim lighting. I"m a man, you"re a gorgeous woman.” He smiled at me wickedly.

“Where I come from, we call that a date.”

I almost blushed. How hilarious, and unlike me. “Oh, in that case then, what do you want to know about me?”

“You"re not one to mince words are you?”

“Nope.”

Auric chuckled. “Just who are you, Muriel, virgin and hellhound banisher?”

Having made the decision to test him, I gave him a quick and honest run down. “I"m twenty-three and a Libra. I have a ton of brothers and sisters.” Now there was an understatement. “I live alone. No pets. I like to read corny romances. Watch adventure movies. Love fast food and pizza, hate seafood. Hmm, what else? Oh, my favorite color is pink and my father is Satan.” I knew it was probably too soon to tell him that part, but considering how he made me feel and judging by his lack of panic at the appearance of hellhounds, I figured he should know. After all, if Dad ever found out about our little
tȇte à tȇte,
it wasn"t inconceivable that he might pay Auric a visit.

Auric choked on his wine. “I"m sorry,” he said laughing. “I think I misunderstood the last part.”

“What, that my favorite color is pink?” I said being deliberately obtuse.

“No, the part after that.”

“Oh, I"m Satan"s daughter.” I declared this proudly. I usually hid my identity for safety reasons, not out of shame.

“You"re not serious, are you?” he said his brows drawing together almost close enough to touch.

“Yes, serious. My name is Satana Muriel Baphomet. My dad is Lucifer, and as for my other half, I have no idea; but from what I"ve gleaned over the years, she wasn"t a hundred-percent mortal.

Is this going to be a problem?” I held my breath as I waited. His answer here would make or break this fragile relationship we"d forged. I could change a lot of things about myself, except my family; they were forever.

“I don"t believe this,” he muttered. “You can"t be a princess of Hell.”

“Listen, you can believe me or not. I don"t really care, truth be told, but I thought I should tell you the truth before this went any further.” And it looked like it had been a good idea to get this out in the open now, instead of later. He had reacted like I feared he would.

“And just where do you think this is going, Muriel, daughter of Satan?”

I didn"t like his tone. “You know, I was beginning to think you might be
the one
. It"s why I agreed to come to dinner with you. I should have known better.” Annoyed at his reaction to a parentage I had no control over, I got up and put on my jacket. I was headed for the door when an iron grip grabbed my arm and stopped me.

“You can"t just drop a bomb like that and walk away,” he said, sliding his hands from my arms to settle loosely on my waist.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to tell people who I am?” I hated the tears that pooled in my eyes. I didn"t want his pity. “As soon as I tell people who my dad is, suddenly they can"t run away fast enough, or out come the crosses and knives.”

“I haven"t run,” he said softly.

“Yet,” I replied, refusing to allow myself to hope.

“I won"t kill you.”

“I"ve heard that one before, too,” I whispered dropping my head.

“I"m sorry you"ve been hurt.” He lifted a hand and brushed at the wet tears that clung to my lower lashes. I wanted to turn my cheek into that hand, but pride–and fear--stayed me.

“Pain has always been a part of my life. It comes with being who I am,” I said softly. I wanted to run before I saw the pity on his face. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. But most of all, I just wanted to be accepted. So I stood trembling in front of him, waiting for him to join the ranks of those who"d hurt me in the past. I"d survived their rejection and I would survive his–

eventually.

“I like you, Muriel,” he said, tilting my face up to look into his.

“And I like you,” I said looking him in the eye. I also thought I was falling in love with him, not that those words would cross my lips.

“Am I allowed to do this, then?” He whispered against my lips, drawing me closer to him.

I didn"t answer. I closed my eyes and waited. He brushed his lips across mine. Feather soft, but enough that an electric shock ran through me and then centered in my pelvis, causing erotic havoc. Strong arms came around me and I reveled in his solid strength. My body brushed up against the hardness of his, and my hormones screamed in joy. I rejoiced even more that he hadn"t pushed me away.

He tugged at my full lower lip, and I parted my mouth slightly to be rewarded with the feel of his tongue against my lips and teeth.

Testing my French knowledge, I opened my mouth wider and let my tongue come out to play, touching the tip of his with mine. A burning jolt of desire ignited my body. I now understood the term „instant fireworks." I wanted to shove him up against a wall and maul his body. Having a little restraint though, I contented myself with feeling him up through his shirt, and enjoying the feel of his firm muscles all over. I melted against his broad chest, a move rewarded with his arms wrapping tight around me, cocooning me in his strength. I let my hands travel down his back, and daringly rested my palms on his tight ass.

If it hadn"t been for the sound of crashing glass, I might have even let him return the groping favor; however, I doubted the sound of breaking glass on the third floor was the sign of a good thing. I knew this from experience, and no, I preferred not to go into details. The timing sucked, though. Would I ever get to kiss him properly, without interruption?

Breaking off the kiss mutually, we both turned to face the gaping hole his apartment had suddenly acquired–him in a battle stance, me, an annoyed one.

At first I didn"t see anything, and I briefly wondered if someone had just gotten lucky with a rock. Then I heard the sound of leather, sliding over the hardwood floor. A familiar sound, a really bad one for mortals at least, and I still hadn"t figured out just what Auric was yet.