Holy fuck in Heaven, there were as many rules here as there were in the Pit.
“And last thing,” she said as we got to the front door. “Tipouts. You want to treat the DJ and the bartender right. Don’t go any less than ten, unless you want to dance to Enya on stage and get completely snorkered when your men buy you drinks. Some girls tip the doormen and VIP host. Me, I recommend it. A girl can’t have too many friends.”
I knew a hint when I heard one. I opened my wallet and produced a ten, handing it to Momma. “Thanks for all the info.”
“See that?” she said, beaming proudly. “I knew you were a natural. You keep us happy here, and we’ll keep you happy in return. So what should we call you, honey?”
I grinned. “Jezebel.”
It had to be the rush of hormones. I would never have been that stupid if I were still a creature of the Abyss. Sure, I walked, talked, and smelled like a human. That didn’t mean I should all but advertise what I really was. But I was high on life, so I trusted Caitlin’s magic to keep me safe. I was Jezebel.
Pleased with all of my accomplishments so far, I opened up the door to room 217 and threw the shopping bags to the floor. I dropped my purse to the carpeted floor and kicked off my sandals. In my first day as a mortal, I had a body, a job, and a possible love interest. Not too shabby. Now all I needed was to find an apartment and a couple of pairs of killer shoes.
Humming the tune “Home” under my breath, I turned on the light as the door slowly swung shut behind me.
“Hello, Jezzie.”
My heart stopped as the voice hit me, and the melody died in my throat.
Fuck.
Swallowing, I turned to see one of the seven most powerful entities in all the planes seated in the large art-deco chair near the small table. Her eyes gleamed as they locked on mine.
I stared into the face of my best friend, the Fury Megaera.
Chapter 6
Then: A Client’s House/Periphery of Hell
The man rolled off of me, a look of extreme contentment on his face as he stretched his long, muscular body. “Darlin’, you’re the best lay I ever had. Some of what you did—man, you took my breath away.”
Way more than his breath, but why spoil his afterglow?
I touched my tongue to my upper lip, then gave him a huge smile. That had been his particular Hook: The smile. For some men, it was the eyes. For others, legs. Tits and ass were right up there too. But my current paramour was all about the smile. I had a particular talent for recognizing Hooks. Hot damn, I loved my job.
“Glad you enjoyed, sweetie.” I put a purr in my throat, just the way he liked it.
“Enjoyed? Darlin’, words can’t describe how I feel. That thing you did with your toes? No one’s ever done that to me.”
That’s probably because the act was illegal in his home state. My voice flirty as I wiggled my toes, I said, “So you could say that I was your first?”
“You bet. Ahhhhh.” That was in response to my fingers lightly tracing patterns just over his pubic hair. The abdomen is particularly sensitive after a climax, and I wanted him to sink into the last bit of pleasure from our short time together.
“That’s so sweet,” I said, sucking in his bliss. His emotional reaction was a physical delight for me, and I lapped up his ecstasy like a child slurping an ice-cream cone.
“Man, I’m spent.” He tried to chuckle, but he didn’t have the strength to do more than chuff out a weak laugh. “Feel like I could sleep for a year.”
“Actually,” I crooned, kissing his belly, the outline of his ribs, his nipples, “you won’t be getting any sleep in the foreseeable future.”
He was feeling the effects from our sex play, but even as his body started shutting down, his mind didn’t comprehend what was happening. That’s usually how it went, assuming my paramours didn’t simply fall asleep and wake up dead. He blinked sleepy eyes at me, an exhausted smile lingering on his face. “I’d love another go, but I just don’t have the energy.”
“I know you don’t, sweetie.” I kissed my way back down his torso, teasing his penis with my tongue. Even as the rest of his muscles slowly went limp, his shaft stood thick and long. Some succubi liked to leave their customers with a smile. My goal was to have them salute me on the way out. I murmured, “You taste delicious.”
In the barest whisper, he said, “Thanks…”
Ah, he was slipping away. Time to collect. I sat up, giving him the full view. An athletic man, he preferred his women to be strong, supple, and very toned. He also thought blondes were to die for, so my current form had mounds of flaxen hair that tumbled around my face like a waterfall, and my body was long and lean with dangerous curves. Giving his penis one more squeeze, I mounted him.
He let out a moan of pleasure and closed his eyes.
“Say my name,” I said, my voice husky as I rolled my hips.
“Juh.”
“Come on, lover,” I said, my pace quickening. “Say it.”
“Jezz…”
I felt him throbbing inside of me, his shaft swollen and quivering, moving with a will of its own. My nipples tightened as I sensed the buildup of semen in his testicles. I ran my hands over my breasts as my body pumped on top of his, ramming him into me again and again. “Say my name!”
“Jezebel…Ah!”
He ejaculated, and I shrieked with delicious joy as he came inside of me. Waves of rippling pleasure crashed across my body as I absorbed his seminal fluid and sperm. Succubi don’t have reproductive organs; everything inside of us is geared toward fuelling our own bodies, not creating new ones. Actually, demons couldn’t create, period. But we could destroy with the best of them.
And, in my case, I could seduce the soul away from a man. Given how nearly all of my lovers were used to charming the pants off of their female conquests, I considered it a perverse form of justice.
Still shivering from my orgasm, I smiled down at the man, whose body was already turning cold. “Wakey, wakey,” I whispered in his ear.
His eyes snapped open. “Huh. I must’ve fallen asleep.”
“Not exactly.” I planted a kiss on his head, then rolled off of him. “Come on, sweetie. It’s time to go.”
“Go? But—whoa!”
At my command, his soul lifted out of his body. From what I understand, the feeling is like slowly pulling an adhesive bandage off of one’s skin—sticky and uncomfortable, but not truly painful. His soul glistened like obsidian and cherries in the dim light of his bedroom.
Oh, my. Based on its color, in life this man had been a horrific person. Thievery, physical violence against women—and a lawyer. “Ooh. You’ve been a very naughty boy.”
He stared at the ethereal form of his hands. Mouth gaping, he touched his face…and pushed his hands through his head. “Ahhh! What did you do to me?”
“I fucked you to death.”
“Ahhh!”
“Oh, really now. Based on your soul, you’ve fucked over many people in your time.”
“AHHH!”
I crossed my arms. “Come on, now. So you’re dead. No use complaining about it.”
His mouth opened, closed,