Skin Deep (4 page)

When they stepped inside, Kiera felt as though she had walked into another world. Popular rap music thrummed loudly and multicolored lights flared in every direction. Everywhere people danced, drank, and smoked. Large metal cages were suspended over the dance floor, housing women wearing thickly feathered angel wings, their bodies covered in little to no clothing, writhing against the metal bars. There were tables near the entrance, but off to the left, down past a bar was a set of couches covered in people who were dancing and writhing on top of one another. It was utter chaos and, strangely enough, she loved it.

She’d never been to a club before. When she and Roth had been together, she hadn’t been old enough to go to such a place. Not that he would have let her go to begin with. A tremor of fear snaked across her body.
He’s dead, Kiera. He can’t come back.
She shook off the anxiety like a bad habit.
I won’t let him ruin this.

After showing her ID to the oddly pale bouncer with pointy ears, they found a table and ordered drinks. Kiera sipped her dirty martini and talked with her friends for a few minutes, staring in awe at the strangely beautiful people who packed the bar. Some of them wore the oddest costumes—tiny women dressed like fairies, fake wings glittering on their backs. A group of them stopped near their table.

“I told Vincent he made a mistake getting rid of the floating bar,” one said.

Floating bar?

“Yeah, but you know he wanted to make this place more hu—”

“Shhh!” several of them said at once.

“—man friendly.” The one talking glanced around until her gaze met Kiera’s. She frowned and rolled her eyes before the others shuffled her off. Kiera watched them until they disappeared into the throng of bodies on the dance floor. Their wings—unlike the feathered women in the cages—were wax-like, glistening in the multicolored light, like a butterfly’s would. Fragile and featherless.

“What were they talking about? A floating bar?” She glanced over at Maryline and Darla, who were both looking at her expectantly, as if they were ready for her to bolt out the door.

Before they could answer, a man passed by with pointy black horns on his head and red skin, like he had a sunburn from hell.
What is with this place? Halloween was last month.

“Why are people dressed up in costumes?” Kiera leaned across the table.

Darla and Maryline shared a look that confused her. “It’s a theme bar. People like to dress up for their favorite video games, comics, stuff like that.”

“A theme bar?” Kiera giggled and glanced around again, taking in the mind-blowing scene before her.
This place is just too cool.

Some of the most beautiful people passed their table. Women with gloriously long hair that shone brightly in the dim lighting, with ears that were pointed like those of a Christmas elf.
What game are they from, I wonder?

Her eyes lit on someone dressed as a vampire just before a large body blocked her view. Kiera looked up to find a handsome man with spiky jet-black hair. His gray eyes glittered in the florescent lighting.

“Excuse me, would you like to dance?” His deep voice carried a hint of an accent. Almost ten seconds passed before Kiera realized he was speaking to her.

“She would love to.” Maryline nudged Kiera out of her seat.

“You want to take off your coat?” the man asked her.

Kiera flushed with embarrassment. She’d forgotten she was wearing it. She shrugged it off and took his extended hand without glancing at him again.

Holy shit, what am I doing?
The thick air of the bar overwhelmed her skin, making her realize just how little she was wearing.
I’m not ready for this. I should’ve stayed home!
She could have been sitting on her couch holding her favorite Susan Bates crochet hook, working on her latest project: a pair of variegated blue house slippers.

They reached the packed dance floor all too soon. The song
Werk Me
by Hyper Crush played. A song she danced to in the privacy of her home. She would swing her hips and dance across her apartment, punching the air like she was some sort of kung-fu goddess. She would belt out the lyrics and gyrate her hips like a madwoman. She considered the reaction she would get if she did the same thing here, in the middle of the overly packed club, and almost burst out laughing. Even these strangely dressed people weren’t ready for that.

The man moved behind her, pressing his body into hers. He wore slacks. The smooth material slipped against her skin. Kiera’s body was stiff. She kept awkwardly bumping into him, but quickly fell into the moment, letting her body dissolve into the lights that swirled and darted around her. The blue-and-pink hues were almost as intoxicating as the top-shelf vodka she’d left on the table. She started singing along. He pressed himself harder against her, placing his hand on her hip. A slither of unease wrapped around her at his touch.
Don’t do this now, not when you’re finally starting to let loose.
As if to prove her point, she pressed against him.

She giggled when his body shuddered against her.
See, not so bad.
Never in a million years would she have expected to be there, on a thickly packed dance floor, pressing her body against a stranger … willingly.

Cain took a deep breath as he entered Lucky Zipper. He’d spent the day sleeping and now he was more than ready for some play. He lit a cigarette and made his way to his typical table, pushing through the throng of Immortals blocking his way. Sparrc was sitting there nursing a beer, his short blue hair in stylish disarray.

“Hey, man,” Sparrc greeted him as he approached.

“Where’s Blaise?” Cain asked, not really caring.

“He’s on the dance floor with some hottie human. I’m jealous as fuck, but damn it to hell, he saw her first.”

Cain rolled his eyes and sat down. Sure, women could be pretty. The ones he took to bed every night always were, regardless of the species, but they were all run-of-the-mill, just your typical piece of ass. Blaise and Sparrc always howled over the women he took to bed, calling them some of the finest pieces of ass in all the realms. Cain just didn’t see it, though he did thoroughly enjoy fucking them.

“I’m serious, man. This chick is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She walked in and the whole fucking bar had it hard up for her.”

Cain coughed on the exhale of his cigarette. “Now I know you’re fucking with me.”

“Look and see for yourself.”

Cain turned his head to see this woman and found himself completely dumbfounded. Her body faced him, though she was some distance away on the dance floor. The black dress she wore fit tightly on her slim body. Her skin was a beautiful golden brown and her hair was the richest red he had ever seen. Just the sight of her brought his body to life with desire, making the beast inside him stir.

“Cain, what the fuck are you doing?” Sparrc’s voice sounded alarmed. Cain realized he had stood, ground his cig with his foot, and moved toward the dance floor. “Cain, my man, you know the rules.”

Yes, he did know the agreement the three of them had made. No cock-blocking for your own pleasure. Until they were completely done with the women, they were off-limits.

“The rules have changed.”

Kiera was lost in the deep thrum of the music. Never had she felt so alive.

Only when another man stepped in front of her did she jolt back to reality. Standing before her was hands-down the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was tall, far taller than the black-haired man dancing behind her. She was certain he pushed seven feet. He looked younger, too, perhaps in his early twenties.

His hair was a startling white-blond, cut short in the back and left long in the front, where she was sure he would flick his head from time to time to keep the hair from falling in his eyes. His eyes were bright green. His skin was a warm brown color. He wore a tight black shirt that gave a glorious view of the rippling muscles concealed beneath it. A black tribal tattoo snaked up his arm and disappeared beneath his shirtsleeve. Low-slung designer jeans fit like a dream across his sinewy waist. His feet were covered in black lace-less Vans.

Kiera stopped dancing to stare at this stranger. This man was the rugged surfer boy of her wildest fantasies and here he was standing before her. In a swift movement his hand was out, palm up, inviting her to take it. She stared at it blankly for a moment before she heard a growl from behind her. She looked back. The man she’d been dancing with flashed the beautiful stranger a killing look.

Her gaze returned to the handsome man. His eyes seemed to be a darker green than they had a moment before. She shook her head. That just couldn’t be.

“Come.” He didn’t speak loudly, but in spite of the pounding music Kiera heard him perfectly. He had an accent, though she couldn’t place it. She found her hand lifting up to meet his. It was almost as if she were helpless to stop herself, especially once her skin met the warmth of his. His rough, calloused palm sent a delicious tingling sensation through her body.

As she walked with this new, erotically handsome dream, she realized she couldn’t remember what the other man’s hand had felt like against her own.

Cain could hardly think or focus on anything except the beautiful woman whose hand sent shockwaves of heat through his body. Sparrc was right. She was unlike any woman he had ever seen in his life—and that was saying something.

Her beauty was exotic, rare, one of kind. When Cain saw something he wanted, there was nothing that could stop him. Even a death look from Blaise meant nothing.
He can have her when I’m finished.

He passed the lounge area, where others were getting hot and heavy, and led her into the back hallway of the bar near a back exit. It was always deserted. The door clicked behind them. He pushed her, perhaps more roughly than he’d intended, against the black wall and pressed his body against hers.
Gods, she is fucking beautiful.
Her sparkling yellow eyes entranced him. Her scent reminded him of the ocean, sweet and tropical.

“Who are you?” The whispered, lust-filled words came from her pink pouty lips.
I’m the man who’s about to fuck the shit out of you.
Cain bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers, running his tongue along the seam. He groaned when she parted her lips and kissed him back. He slid into her mouth and tasted her sweetness.

Her delicate tongue darted in time with his own and he became desperate for more.
Fucking desperate
? He was never desperate, but there was no denying it. He wanted this woman more than he’d wanted another in a long time. Sure, he fucked at least one woman a night, but which woman it was didn’t matter. In this moment he couldn’t imagine any other in this one’s place. His body ran hot for
her
, not just for the act they were about to participate in.

He slid his hand on the inside of her thigh, up past the short material of her dress. His fingers found soft silken panties. Sperm rushed to the tip of his cock, almost spilling inside of his pants, like some sort of first-timer.
I want to feel the soft flesh between her thighs. Will she be wet for me?

He slid past the thin silk barrier and rubbed his fingers against the bare lips of her pussy. She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, making him wild with lust. He pushed his finger deeper. The slickness behind those hot lips surrounded his finger. She dripped with wetness, ready for him.

He made a slow caress against her swollen labia. Her arousal filled the air, intensifying her tropical scent until it was all he could sense. She bit down on the lip she had been sucking. He bucked against her, damning his clothes for the barrier.
Holy fuck. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna come in my damn pants.

He managed to hold back and continued to stroke his fingers against her clit as he unbuttoned his pants. His rock-hard cock sprung from his fly, throbbing for her. “You’re so fucking wet.” A feathery soft hand ran down his body, caressing the thick muscles of his concealed chest until she reached the center of his need.

Her hand was tentative as she ran her fingers across the already-damp head of his dick. “You’re so big.” The heat of her seared him, igniting a need within him like a flame. She cupped her hand and stroked his entire length. It was his undoing. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside her
now.

In one swift movement he lifted her body off the floor and pinned her against the wall with his own. “Your feet aren’t going to touch the ground until that sweet little pussy has come apart on my dick … more than once.” His voice sounded foreign in his ears. He shoved the fabric of her dress up, revealing the silken panties. They were thin and black, leaving nothing to the imagination. He growled at the sight of them before yanking them to the side, prepared to shove his length into her tightness.

Her fist made contact with his cheek. It didn’t hurt by any means, but it did surprise him. He stumbled back in shock, releasing her. She crumbled from the wall, though he regained himself and steadied her before she hit the floor.

“No!” Her hands came up and pushed against him. It didn’t move him in the slightest, but he did release her. She shot him a death glare, all previous signs of passion gone, before she ran back into the bar.

The heavy door slammed shut behind her. Cain breathed hard. Sweat dripped down his face and his cock hung out of his pants, throbbing with need. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to understand what had just happened.

In his thousand years of life, this was Cain’s first taste of rejection.

Kiera rushed from the deserted hallway, even though every aspect of her body begged for her to return to the unnamed man.
What in the world am I thinking? I almost had sex with a complete stranger. A beautiful stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. What kind of floosy am I?
The first day I get into the body I’ve always dreamed of and I practically beg the first man who comes along to fuck me?
How pathetic.

She found her way to the bathroom. It was empty.
Thank goodness
. Leaning over the sink, she took a deep breath before looking at herself in the mirror. Her new body surprised her again, though she supposed it always would and that’s how she was going to keep it.
Always.

Before Bettina had performed the spell she had made it clear there was a rule to keeping the spell intact. Only one.

Sex.

She couldn’t have it. If she did, her body would return to how it was before,
never
to be returned to this thin form. Even Bettina couldn’t do the spell again after that. It was a one-time-only kind of thing.

She’d originally laughed at the thought of even being tempted to have sex. Now she panted on the edge of lust, clinging to a dingy black countertop, trying to keep herself from going back out into the bar, where she could search for the sexy stranger and finish what they’d started.

“Do you like that, you fat bitch? Huh? You like it?”
The memory of her last sexual encounter washed over her brain. A cold rush ran through her body, effectively dampening her former arousal and overwhelming her stomach with an intense feeling of nausea.
Why am I even here?

She ran a shaking hand over her face, trying to bury the memory.
Don’t do this. Not now.
She righted herself back to what she considered to be normal and returned to the table where Maryline and Darla still sat.

“What’s wrong?” Worry laced Darla’s voice. Kiera put on a smile.

“Nothing. Would you mind taking me home? I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a party pooper. I’m just really tired and—”

“Did that asshole make a move on you? I’ll kill him!” Darla stood, knocking over her drink, which shattered on the floor. Maryline was impulsive and a little overwhelming at times. Darla was completely the opposite—until she got mad. That’s when she became what some people would call
psycho
. Kiera had only seen it once, when the shop had been robbed. Darla had gone nuts, running her hands all over everything, even pressing her nose against things that had been moved, as if she could smell the perpetrator.

She pressed her nose to Kiera’s neck, startling her. “He did touch you.” Her eyes darkened. “Where is the motherfucker?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I’m just ready to go home.”

Darla narrowed her eyes.

“Let it be. She wants to go home.” Maryline interlaced her fingers with Darla’s and gave Kiera a knowing look. “Don’t do this, Darla. If Kiera says she’s okay, then we trust her.”

Darla sucked in a deep breath, her gaze darting across the club. “Fine.”

Kiera let out a sigh of relief and followed the two women out of the bar. The further she could get from this place and the handsome surfer boy, the better.