Seduced by Pain (4 page)

Cupid is a knavish lad,


Thus to make poor females mad.

—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

IT HAD NEVER
mattered to me before, whether in human form or demon, if a woman was drawn to me because of my seductive nature, or because they genuinely appreciated my inner qualities.

With Rose, it mattered.

I knew her lust was an artificial reaction to the chemicals I secreted as an incubus, and for the first time, that bothered me. But I couldn't turn off that part of myself, so I had to make her fall in love with the real me, without actually telling her who the real me was.

This line of frustrating thought led to Jasmine sneaking up on me unaware while I soaked in the hot tub.

She slipped into the steaming water, and I turned in time to catch a glimpse of long legs and a skimpy purple bikini that matched her short hair.

My kind didn't have arbitrary rules about age. Puberty was puberty.

But while human, I had to abide by the laws of humans, which meant she was off limits for another two years.

And though that was all true, that wasn't the real reason I resisted the scent of her freshly scrubbed body as she moved closer to me.

Rose stole my attention.

She occupied prime real estate in my mind and heart, even in her continued rejection of my advances.

I hoped the last gift would show her that I truly cared about her. I'd scanned through hundreds of pictures looking for the perfect one of Sandy that would fit the white gold, antique locket. The quote I'd written myself, as an effigy for her departed friend.

Rest in the heart of those whose love you shared.

I knew how hard it had been for her to say goodbye and clear her house out of Sandy's belongings. Having a keepsake would help ease the grief and facilitate healing, or so I'd hoped.

Jasmine's hand slid around my waist, over the muscles of my abs. "You have an incredible body, Blake. I can't believe I never noticed before."

My cock stiffened, and my body reached for her, desperate for the food only a willing woman could provide, but my heart forced me back. "I can't, Jasmine. You're too young."

She flicked her hair. "A technicality." Biting her lower lip, she moved closer, pinning me to the side of the tub.

I couldn't remember a time I'd ever turned away a willing meal. I caught her wrists in my hands and pushed her back, slipping to the side to avoid her body. "We can't."

With a pout on her lips borne of teenage hormones, she stepped back. "Is there someone else?"

I paused too long.

"I knew it. You're still into Rose, aren't you?" She pushed her breasts up as she crossed her arms. "She doesn't even like you. God, she's such a bitch. She gets everything, even the things she doesn't want."

Her anger reached deeper into pain and insecurity. I'd become an expert at reading humans, mostly so I could manipulate them. I'd never tried to use these abilities to help one out of selflessness. "I know it feels like that, and I can't imagine what it's been like for you to live in the shadow of your mother and Rose. But Jasmine, you are young, beautiful and bright. These feelings aren't permanent. High school isn't forever."

Normally, I'd reach out and use contact to give weight to my words, but I didn't want to send her the wrong message, so I kept my hands to myself. "What do you love doing most?"

The question must have surprised her, because she forgot to scowl for a moment. When her face relaxed, she looked more her age. More innocent.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I like music, I guess."

"Do you sing? Play an instrument?"

"Both, kind of. I taught myself piano and guitar, but I've never had lessons. My friends at school say I sing pretty good, and I'm in the choir even though it's lame and full of losers."

She tried so hard to project a badass rebel image, but I could tell she wanted to embrace her talents. "Pour yourself into that. Forget about your sister or your mother, or even about being popular. Give your music time and attention and it will open doors for you no one else can. You'll also be a lot happier."

"What if I suck?" She bit on her thumb's nail, no longer trying to be the seducer.

"Sing something for me."

She backed up, dropping her hand to her side. "What? No way. I'd be embarrassed."

"No one else is here. I won't tell anyone. Just sing. Close your eyes and pretend you're alone in your room."

I saw the struggle on her face. She craved validation and approval to pursue her dreams, but dreaded making a fool of herself in front of a guy.

Finally, the singer in her won out. She closed her eyes and began to sing. Her voice warbled at the first few notes, nerves getting in the way, but then confidence came and she belted out the lyrics to a popular song.

When she finished, she opened her eyes, waiting.

This time I did reach out to her, touching her hand. "You have an amazing voice. I'm not exaggerating, or telling you what you want to hear. Practice more. Stay in choir. Do whatever it takes to learn more instruments and take lessons. You'll go far."

Her face lit up when she smiled from real pleasure, when she showed her true self. "Really?"

"Really!"

Ocean rounded the corner and saw us, her face an unreadable mask.

I pushed myself out of the tub, legs hanging in. "Hey, Ocean, want to hop in? I was about to leave, but Jasmine would probably enjoy the company."

Lust swelled in Ocean, and my desire reciprocated. I could take her. She was of age, willing, beautiful. But she wasn't Rose.

Damn that woman and the hold she had over this body.

I blamed Blake, the man who mooned over her ineffectually for so many years. The man who blew his shot with her too many times to count.

I wanted him to be the reason I couldn't get her out of my mind,
needed
him to be the reason, but she hadn't just snared the man whose body I wore. She'd stolen the heart of the demon beneath.

With a nod of gratitude to Ocean, I left a happier Jasmine and sought solace in my own room, alone with my thoughts and worries.

I didn't have time to woo Rose. Soon, I'd be forced back to my prison if I didn't accomplish my mission here, but doing what I must to stay meant partnering with the woman ruining Rose's life.

Night and silence.—Who is here?

—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

THE SILVER LOCKET
hung from my neck in a constant reminder that something between Blake and me had changed. I considered not wearing it, or returning it, but he'd put so much thought into this gift, and I loved it.

It had been the perfect way to honor the memory of Sandy. The horror of her and her puppies all dying was in no way diminished, but now she didn't feel so discarded or forgotten. She still had a place in the tapestry of my memories. This, and the knowledge that at least one of her puppies had been sold before the rest were slaughtered, gave me some peace that Sandy would live on.

But, despite all of his generous gifts, and the undeniable and strangely compelling new attraction I felt for Blake, my heart still belonged to another.

I reached for my phone, but Ocean's voice stopped me. "You're not calling him again, are you?"

"What of it?"

"Move on, Rose. If he wants you, he needs to win you back. He's being a dick." She sat with a makeup bag full of cosmetics as she prepped for her date that night.

"I'm the enemy in this scenario, not him. I don't blame him for how he feels."

She puckered her shiny red lips and kissed a napkin to even out the lipstick she'd just applied. "I do. He knows you were acting in self-defense. He needs to grow a pair and forgive you, or he doesn't deserve you. You don't have to grovel anymore, Rose. You apologized. You didn't have all the information at the time. Not your fault."

I changed the subject, tired of this already. "Who's the lucky guy tonight?"

"Joe. But it's a group thing. We're going to a show in Seattle, want to come?"

"Nah, too kinky for me."

"Ha! Not that kind of group thing, though that could be fun, too. You should come. It'll be good for you to get out and have some fun."

The thought of performing for a group of strangers all night sounded exhausting. Making small talk. Pretending to be happy. No thanks. "I'm good here." I held up my book and my glass of red wine. "All set. You go have fun. And be safe."

She kissed my check. "Always. Oh, you weren't here when I got back, but something weird happened today."

"Weird how?" Ocean had some very lax ideas of weird, so if it hit her radar, then I was worried.

"You're not the only one with a newfound lust for our faithful handyman. Your sister threw herself at him in the hot tub."

A pang of jealousy, so very unwanted, stirred in me. "He was in the hot tub with her?"

She shook her head, red curls bouncing to the motion. "No. It looked like she joined him without invitation and tried to seduce him. He didn't touch her and was clearly trying to get away when I arrived. He used me as an out, which I allowed, and then he took off. But man, you could practically smell the sexual desire. What the hell is up with him? Is he using some kind of new cologne that's chemically engineered to drive women crazy?"

My heart slowed back to normal, relieved that I didn't have to kill Blake for messing with my underage sister. "I hope so, actually. It would make me feel better to know that something outside of me is making me feel this way. The alternative is that I'm just a fickle slut who wants every guy who looks her way."

Ocean cocked her hip, hand resting on the small of her waist. "First, even if that were true, do you really think that makes you a slut?"

"Well, doesn't it?"

"Between the two of us, who gets more action?" she asked.

I felt this going in a bad direction, but played along. "You, obviously."

"Do you think I'm a slut?"

"Of course I don't, Ocean. You're just… " I flipped up my hands in frustration, looking for the right word. "…you!"

"Exactly. I'm me. I enjoy my sexuality in a safe and responsible way with consenting adults. Would it be so bad for you to do the same?"

Yes. "Derek—"

"—is an idiot. He has no claim on you." She swung her purse over her shoulder and slipped into her two-inch heels, giving her the look of a ballerina on toe shoes. "I say, get with Blake. See how far you can go. He's known you your whole life, so if he's comfortable being a guinea pig while you get your powers under control, let him. It'll be good for you."

I stared at the phone still clutched in my hand and wondered what I should do.

Ocean frowned. "Want me to cancel tonight and stay in with you?"

"No. I'm not going to spoil your fun. Just drive safe; the weather doesn't look good."

"Will do. Call me if you need me, okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Ocean."

She left and I sat alone in our cottage, willing my phone to ring, or beep, or do anything to indicate that Derek hadn't forgotten all about me.

When it didn't, I broke down and called again. If I was going to even think about trying to move on, I needed to give Derek once last chance to talk me out of it.

The phone rang and rang, and I nearly hung up, resigned to another voicemail message, when it clicked.

"Hello?" His voice, so deep and sexy and raw, shook me to my core, even through the phone. It made my desire for Blake seem a sham, when with his voice alone, Derek could send heat and ice pouring through my body.

"Derek, hi. It's Rose. Can we talk?"