Soul Stripper (12 page)

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Authors: Katana Collins

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BOOK: Soul Stripper
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Even though you are mortal, your succubus instincts still control your body. You have nothing to be sorry for.
I nodded, though I didn’t entirely believe him. I sure felt like I had a lot to be sorry for. “Could you do me a favor?”
“I suppose that depends.” His stance became rigid once again, fearing the worst.
“Don’t eavesdrop on
everything
I think. Leave me some privacy, please.”
He nodded, just one sharp movement. “Very well. I will do my best to leave as many of your thoughts alone as I can.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, and swayed to bump his arm with my elbow.
He shot me a crooked smirk and bumped me back.
As Julian and I were stealing playful glances, the double doors swung open and there stood Drew. I took in his look—well-fitted jeans, a button-down plaid shirt with opaque buttons, and slightly scuffed brown leather shoes. His eyes grew wide as he realized it was me standing before him, and a giant smile spread across that glorious face of his.
“Monica? You made it!” He ran over and picked me up in a giant hug.
It happened so quickly, but I managed to rest my cheek momentarily on the soft cotton on his shoulder, breathing in his cologne mixed with the smell of coffee that consistently permeates his clothing. My feet lowered back down to the floor, and when I opened my eyes, I saw the two men staring at each other. Julian’s body language was still rigid and his eyes were unmoving, assessing Drew. Drew shot me a sideways glance, unsure of how to react to this scrutiny.
“Hi.” Drew stuck out his hand ceremoniously. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No. We haven’t.” Julian raised a hand to Drew’s, eyes not leaving his face.
Drew looked over at me, his forehead crinkling with concern, no doubt curious about where Wills was.
I screamed out Julian’s name in my head—hoping if I thought forcefully enough, he’d be able to hear me.
You’re creeping him out, Jules!
Julian grunted—whether it was aimed at Drew or in response to my thoughts, I wasn’t sure.
On an exhale, Julian finally let his mouth twitch into a smile. “Julian,” he said quietly.
Drew shot an unsure glance back at me. “Julian, pleased to meet you. I’m Drew, Monica’s boss. Are you two—uh, together?”
“Does it
look
like we’re together?” Julian smirked, taking my hand and wrapping it around his elbow as if I were a debutante about to be presented to society. “We arrived together.”
I rolled my eyes, pulling my arm away from his. “We are not
together
together. Though, yes, we did come here together.” I scowled quickly at Julian before returning my gaze back to Drew. “We’ve known each other for, like, centuries. I just wanted to have the comfort of a
friend
”—I glanced again at Julian, whose mouth was turned upward into a serene smile—“here tonight.”
Drew looked relieved. “Oh, phew! I was afraid I had offended you, man, when I hugged our girl, here.”
Julian puffed a laugh. “Of course not. I’m happy to see Monica has friends who influence her for the better.” He looked over at me, a bemused smile on his face. “You should come to more of Drew’s church functions, Monica.”
I put my arm around Julian’s back, pinching him as hard as I could. “Yes, well—we all know my work schedule makes evening functions a bit difficult.” I spoke through gritted teeth hoping Julian was reading my angry thoughts at that moment.
“Right, right. I’m sure both Julian and I have heard all your excuses, Mon.” He winked at Julian, his smile creating creases that framed his mouth. “I’m just glad you could come tonight.” Drew extended his hands toward the rec room and mocked a bow. “There is food and drink inside. Please help yourself to anything.” He looked directly at me. “And have fun.”
My stomach growled again at the mention of food. This whole eating thing really gets in the way of your day, doesn’t it?
13
T
he room was decorated rather plainly. There was a bar area serving beer and wine as well as some nonalcoholic beverages, and a small buffet had a variety of potluck items that people from the church had no doubt whipped up themselves. Several tables had long tablecloths that had seen better days. The lighting was low, and candles sat clumped on every table and in every corner. Must have been Drew’s attempt at romantic lighting.
I went to town on the buffet, loading a plate with mac and cheese, potato salad, little mini cheeseburgers, and every other homemade goody sitting atop the dollar store serving platters. When I looked to my right, Julian stood there, staring.
“Slow down, Monica. Gluttony is a sin, you know.”
“Yeah, well, so is jealousy, mister.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes looked hot as he turned to face me.
Between chewing, I answered him. I wasn’t about to put down my food for this conversation. “You don’t fool me. You usually regard people so warmly—particularly churchgoers. But with Drew, you held back. Jealousy.” I emphasized the word by poking his chest.
Julian shoved two hands into his black flat-front pants. “I was
not
jealous.”
“Well, what would you call that little display, then?” I didn’t tear my eyes away from the potato salad. Man, what did those little church ladies cook these in? Holy water? I’d never tasted anything so delicious in my life.
“I’m protective of you. That is not a sin.”
“So there was no jealousy whatsoever?”
“None.”
I lowered my eyes at him.
He stared right back at me, his eyes softening. “I promise you, Monica. I was just getting a read on Drew. And I have to admit—I like him. He’s a good person to be in your life. I can see why you don’t want to pursue him. His soul is pure.”
I sighed and dug into the mac and cheese. No arguing that.
“Julian!” Drew’s voice boomed as he walked toward us. Next to him stood a curvy, brunette girl. She looked about twenty-five and was wearing a black skirt, cardigan buttoned up to the middle of her throat, and pantyhose.
Pantyhose.
In the middle of Vegas in spring. Crazy bitch.
Drew approached us, and the girl looked shyly at the floor. “Julian, this is Annie. She’s been part of our parish for a couple years now. I thought the two of you might have a lot in common.”
Sheesh, he was right about that. She looks wholesome enough to be an angel on Earth.
Jules smiled at the girl with the warmth and exuberance he normally showed in a first meeting.
“Hello.” Julian took Annie’s hand. “You Make Me Feel So Young” started playing on the iPod speakers. “Would you like to dance?” Julian didn’t wait for a response. He swept her into his arms and fox-trotted her off onto the dance floor in one fluid motion. Damn, that angel was smooth.
I heard that.
His voice rang in my brain.
Well, shit,
I thought back.
Drew looked over at me. “You look beautiful tonight.” His eyes flicked down to my feet, taking in my entire look. Obviously, I was dressed the same as earlier, but with the fixed hair I’m sure I looked a hundred times better.
I flushed. “Thank you.”
“I’d ask you to dance, but I’m sort of on duty here tonight.”
Julian’s voice entered my head again.
He’s lying to you. He doesn’t want to dance because he
can’t
dance.
“Shut
up,
” I said, clenching my jaw.
Drew looked shocked. “Excuse me?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
“Not you! My phone . . . it won’t stop buzzing.”
Drew nodded. “Ah. Probably Wills. Don’t you two have a date tonight?”
Double shit.
“Yep, it’s probably him checking up on me. Be right back.”
I grabbed my phone and headed outside into the vestibule area to dial Wills’s number.
“Hello, Pocket,” he said, ever so cheery. Clearly he did not know of the Hell that was my day.
“Hey back at ya,” I said, trying desperately to match his tone.
“I’m going to see you tonight, right? Not backing out on me again.”
“Nope, I can’t wait.” I was smiling. It was the truth, even if I did keep forgetting about him. Things were so easy with Wills. Of course, I knew that Lucien or Kayce would be a step behind us monitoring me. They’d just have to deal with it. I needed the human touch—or demon touch . . . whatever. And I was getting it tonight. Despite whoever would be listening. “I just wanted to check in and say hello.”
“Your
hello
s are always welcome.”
At that moment, a familiar high-pitched, high-maintenance voice echoed in the rafters as the front door swung open. “What in the world is this about, Damien?”
“Wills, I gotta go!” I spoke in a hoarse whisper and snapped my phone shut. I looked for an escape, a place to hide, but it was too late. Damien entered with a blindfolded Adrienne. He flipped the blindfold off her eyes, and I was seen before I had even hung up my phone.
“What are
you
doing here?” Adrienne put her hands on her hips, her acrylic nails digging into her cheap jersey knit dress.
“I met your lover earlier today. I told him this was a swingers’ party. It seemed right up your alley.”
Damien stood behind her and stifled a laugh, just a slight quirk of his lips upward revealing his amusement.
“A what? A swingers’ party?” Adrienne put two fingers to each temple and rubbed in circles.
Her voice lowered, the squeaky girly tone to it completely disappearing. “Look—I’m not messing around here, Monica. What is going on here? Where are we?” Her collagen-injected lips were pressed into a straight line. Her hair had been recently bleached again and stood tall and teased. She looked ridiculous and slutty in her strapless dress.
“I’m kinkier than you think, Adrienne.”
Damien’s half smile turned into a whole smile. “I’d believe that.” His eyes glistened with lust, and I couldn’t help but smirk back at him.
Adrienne’s jaw just about fell out of its socket, and she glared at Damien, her eyes wide, exasperated. “Not
you,
too.” She rolled her eyes and took a step closer to me. “I see it constantly—every man falls all over himself to get to you. Back off.”
“All except one.” My voice was quiet.
“Don’t be so sure,” she whispered. She turned away, and her heels clacked toward the door. “I’m leaving. You’re coming, right?” She held open the door, gesturing to Damien.
At that moment, Drew poked his head out from the party area.
Triple shit,
I thought.
“What’s going on out here?” He looked around, first noticing Damien and me, and then he saw Adrienne at the front door.
She shut the door and turned as though she had just walked in. “Drew! Hi, baby!” She squealed and ran toward him on her toes. Guess it proved too difficult to run in her heels. Amateur. But there on her face—outside of the shock of seeing him—I saw happiness. And love. She nuzzled her nose into his neck, kissing him. She was actually happy to see him, even caught red-handed with her lover.
“Adrienne? What are you doing here?” Drew hugged her back, though looking absolutely confused. He looked over at me still standing there in front of Damien. “And who’s this?”
“This? Um, I don’t know . . . must be a friend of Monica’s.” Adrienne looked at me, her eyes pleading.
I looked at Drew, the poor schmuck. He planned this cute little event and here I was about to ruin the entire night for him. Julian was right—it was a terrible idea. Drew will learn that Adrienne’s wrong for him, eventually. I shouldn’t be the one to bring him to the conclusion—he needs to get there himself. “I’ve only just met him today.” I sighed. It wasn’t even a lie—Jules would be so proud.
Damien pulled me into his body in an embrace, and I pushed myself off his chest, trying to wrench myself from his grasp. “Damien, this is Drew. Drew, this is Damien.” Damien gave a crooked smile and held out a hand to Drew, not releasing my body in the process. Drew took his hand hesitantly.
“Nice to meet you,” Drew said, flashing a wary eye at me. “Mon, can I talk to you a second?”
I slipped out of Damien’s grasp and we stepped away from Adrienne and her boy toy. “Monica, I don’t know what is going on here, but you have a nice guy waiting to go on a date with you tonight. And if I’m not mistaken in reading Julian, I think you have another nice guy inside pining after you. I’m trying not to read too much into this third man you’ve invited here—”
I held up a hand to silence Drew. “I met him briefly. Julian was standing right near me when I invited Damien to this event. I didn’t invite him
with
me. He’s actually dating a—
friend
—of mine.” I said the word
friend
through gritted teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“Oh.” Drew nodded, but his eyes narrowed, still skeptical. “I just assumed by the way he was looking at you.” He glanced back over at Damien. “Just be careful—he looks like trouble.”
I nodded, and Damien was looking at us, his eyes glistening as though he could hear our every word. “He sure does, doesn’t he?”
14
London, 1939
 
W
ills showed up exactly on time. His pocket watch chain was draped from his suit vest. His initials were scrolled in ivory script at the end of the chain that clipped to his vest. He wore pinstripe pants and wing tips with a fedora perched on top of his head. I saw him enter when I was peeking out from behind the curtain. I could see his erection from where I waited behind the stage—he must have already been anticipating me, remembering the little preview I gave him in the park.
I sang a Gershwin tune that night, and he sat in the front row smiling from ear to ear. It was as though he barely noticed the fact that I was half undressed or shaking my body around as I sang, tassels flipping in the patron’s faces. He just smiled and clapped eagerly as I finished my number.
Afterward, we went to a late dinner. “Do your parents have any idea where you are or who you’re out with?” I asked as I took a bite of the meat pie.
He laughed. “Of course not. My parents only ever care about what I’m doing when they consider it wrong.”
I nodded. That was me, I thought. Wrong in every sense of the word. It made sense, I guess. A good boy betraying his parents’ wishes with me. “So, I’m a sort of rebellious phase, I guess?” I gave him a wink, though the disappointment at this realization weighed heavy in my voice.
Wills’s head tipped to the side, his eyes thoughtful. “Not exactly. I just—I like you.”
“You like how I make you feel.” I pushed around some carrots on my plate.
“Well, yes. But I also think you’re funny, smart, and talented—quite the canary. Not to mention beautiful.”
I smiled at that. “Smart, huh?” It was rare any man saw through to my mind.
His mouth quirked and he returned my smile. “Indeed. The girls my mum chooses for me are always proper. Educated, but not necessarily intelligent.”
He was a good soul. I could see that in him so clearly—even from our very first meeting. I still wasn’t sure if he was a virgin, but he was definitely of strong moral standing. Heaven-bound for sure. And he seemed to genuinely like me, not just for my body or my sexuality. Just one night, I told myself. I would allow myself pleasure with him for just one night. A night to enjoy sex for once. One night wouldn’t kill him. Maybe take a week off his life at most. What could one night hurt?
“Wanna get out of here?” I crossed my arms over the table after pushing my plate away.
“Go where?”
“Show me London—your London.” I knew only the seedier places of the city.
We didn’t get far, though. Within moments of exiting the bistro, his hands glided around my hips, which back then I used to shift slightly curvier to fit the times. I pulled him into an alley. A cat mewled from the garbage and ran as he pushed me against the brick siding of a building. His fingers slid down over the linen fabric of my skirt and cupped my ass, pulling me in for a kiss. He hesitated the moment before our lips touched.
My body itched for the fix. The ache pulled from inside of me. I knew from experience that my skin was flushing and that itch, that damn itch, was practically gnawing at me from inside.
He pulled back just slightly, his hands moving from my ass to cup my face. He stared at my eyes, his own flitting back and forth from my right eye to my left, and his eyebrows drew together. “This is going to sound ridiculous,” he said, “but I could swear that your eyes just got bluer. I thought they were more of a greenish blue, but now—now, they’re electric.”
I swallowed. The pull to devour his life force was shifting me. I grabbed his lapels and pulled him into my kiss. I could feel how good his soul was, and though I wasn’t stealing any of it yet, I imagined it filling up inside me. It would be stronger than anyone I’d had yet. It was that rush that kept me kissing him, deeper and longer, wrapping my tongue around his. I pulled away abruptly. The itch was still there, even stronger than before. To experience the force of his soul, he’d have to come. He’d have to come by my touch for me to feel any relief.
“Wow,” he said breathless. “Just, wow.” He picked me up and spun me around the street, running down the alley with me in his arms.
I threw my head back and laughed, holding my arms out, feeling the wind rushing past my face. I knew his adrenaline was just a side effect. An evolutionary effect that ensured our conquests wouldn’t tire on us before we acquired their souls. It would wear off in a minute. He was high on me. I enjoyed the energy, his excitement while I had it. Soon it—and he—would be gone. A man like Wills doesn’t stay with a woman like me for long. It made me feel better about this one night. There was no way he’d risk his reputation in a relationship with the likes of me. Just one night.
He lowered me, and we now stood deeper in the back of the alley. “Wills,” I said, “have you ever been with a woman before?” The question was out of my mouth before I had the good sense to stop it.
He cleared his throat and looked to the ground. “Is that something you really want to talk about this moment?”
I nodded and brushed my lips across his.
“Very well.” His voice took on a business-like tone. As if he were discussing a property he was looking to acquire. “Once before. At university.”
“I bet you two didn’t have a chance to get too . . . adventurous, did you?”
His brow furrowed, uncertainty washing over his sweet, boyish features. “Well, we weren’t in an alley, if that’s what you are suggesting.”
I closed my eyes, shifting away my panties from beneath my garter and thigh-high stockings. I lifted a knee and rested it on the wall behind him. “Run your hand up my leg. See what you find,” I purred into his neck.
His fingers were tentative, trembling as he traced the inner area of my thigh. Up he traveled, tantalizing, tickling. I wasn’t sure if he was taking his time on purpose to torture me or if it was newbie nerves. He pinched the garter and snapped it back against my skin, the sudden sting causing me to whimper. I pushed my pelvis against his, urging him to move faster.
When his touch finally reached the V between my legs, he gasped. “Monica,” he said on an exhale, “where are your knickers?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the innocence of the question. “Do you care?”
His head fell back against the brick, eyes closed. His fingers once again moved in circles over my sex. I was swollen and ready for him. With a free hand I opened his pants, grasping his hard length with a firm grip. He grunted and kissed me again, lips urgent. His kiss was perfect—a delicious mixture of gentle and rough with just the right amount of tongue trailing my lips and teeth.
He flipped us so that my back was now against the wall. Body heat radiated off of him, and his erection brushed against my moist folds. Both of his hands wrapped under my backside, and he lifted my feet from the ground with a naturalness that took my breath away.
I locked my legs around his waist just as he entered me. He was big enough to stretch me, mold me. I cried out, tugging on his hair to bring his lips once again to mine. He glided in and out in slow, controlled strokes, and using his thumb he rolled my clit. An orgasm waved through my body, and he held me closer until the tremors ended.
Beads of sweat formed along his face, and his lips pressed into a line. “C’mon, baby,” I said, bracing my arms on his shoulders. I was able to bounce on him in faster thrusts. “Let go. You’re so close, aren’t you?” The fact he had held out this long was noteworthy for a man with such little experience.
His thrusts grew harder, more frantic, with less of a rhythmic pulse and more of an animal lust. He groaned and fell onto my body, elbows around either side of my head. His member pulsed inside of me, and I felt warm liquid flow into my body. The itch immediately subsided, like aloe on a burn, and the tingling sensation chilled me to my fingertips. His life flipbooked before me, very similar to the vision I had seen the other night. A dull life; he would go to war, come home with an injury, and live his life working a dull job. His death was slightly different than the last vision, but he’d still live to be an old man.
He lowered my legs to the ground and stroked my face with gentle fingers. Handing me a handkerchief from his pocket, he muttered an embarrassed apology.
I pushed it back to him. “I don’t need that. I love the feel of you dripping between my legs.” With a finger, I gathered some of his juice from my inner thigh and licked it away.
His face turned pink and his mouth dropped. “Good heavens,” he said. “I think I’m ready again.” I put a hand on his member and sure enough, he was at attention once more.
With a smile, I took his hand. “Now, now, I wouldn’t want to tire you too much on the first night.”
“So there will be a second night?” His eyes were wide and hopeful as he followed me out of the alley, adjusting his pants.
A lump formed in my throat. Oh, how I wanted there to be a second night. He had plenty of years left. Wasn’t I entitled to some happiness in my existence? One more night couldn’t hurt, could it?

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