Demons Prefer Blondes (Demons Unleashed #1)(52)

Would he ever give himself some slack? “It’s war. There’s bound to be deaths. And since Napoleon was defeated, I’m guessing you sent some demons packing.”

“I suppose.” Rafe’s jaw twitched.

Pulling into her mom’s driveway, she craned her head to meet Rafe’s gaze. Maybe she could soften him up another way.

With boldness she didn’t know she possessed, she reached across the seat and traced her finger along his jaw—slowly, tenderly. Heat crackled between her finger and his skin, a heavy inferno racing between them.

He sucked in a breath. “Lucy…”

“Shh,” she whispered, drawing her fingertips down further and lingering over the thrumming pulse at the base of his neck. “You are a hero.”

The silver in his eyes swirled and sparked like sensuous waves of a turbulent sea. She didn’t care much for waxing poetic, but it was worth a sonnet or two. With more brazen wanton, she leaned across the seat.

“What do I have to do?” she asked, her tone seductive, or what she hoped was seductive. She was new to all this sexpot stuff and didn’t know what the hell she was doing. She fumbled with the zipper of his jacket, her mouth curving into a wry grin.

“For what?” Rafe asked on a choked breath.

She angled her gaze upward and brought her pinkie to her mouth. Nothing like a little teasing to lighten the mood. She reached back over and rubbed Rafe’s shoulder.

“To block Kalli’s and Lilith’s mind breach, of course.”

A frown curved his lips. The silver oceans of his eyes became placid ponds. “It’s easier to instruct you in a more comfortable environment.”

“How about a tiny clue?” she asked with a little pout.

“Close your eyes,” he said, his tone firm yet gentle.

She obeyed him like an obedient puppy. A cute fluffy puppy, nonetheless. “And?”

“Hmm,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “Turn your head to face me.”

Without reservations, Lucy angled her head to face his. “Okay?”

“Stay still.”

“I’m trying,” she replied, her grin wide.

“Don’t try to tempt me, Lucy.” His breath, hot and heavy, inched along her cheek and to her ear. Shivers of excitement jolted through her body. “You might not like what you get.”

Like hell she wouldn’t. Her breath hitched. The energy crackling through her body must’ve jumbled all thought and speech processes. “I doubt that,” she managed with a squeak. Ugh, not that stupid squeak again.

“I love that squeak,” Rafe said. “Especially when I first stepped into your shop.” He shook his head, doubt clouding his eyes. “You’ve entranced me beyond words.”

She couldn’t control herself any longer. Without hesitation, she opened her eyes, wrapped her arms around Rafe’s neck and laced her fingers through his hair. They were going to kiss again. Outside her mom’s house, nonetheless. In broad daylight. She trained her gaze toward the garage. Her mom’s snow-white, gas-guzzling Cadillac Escalade sat big and proud in the driveway, glinting in the afternoon sun.

Ooh! Mom was home! Talk about living dangerously.

What would the neighbors think?

Screw the neighbors, her inner sexy self whispered. She was beginning to like this inner demon.

She grabbed on to his hair, her grip tight, and pulled his face to hers. “The feeling is mutual,” she said, grinding her lips against his. Pure molten fire coursed through her veins, the energy erupting inside like a volcano. Swirling her tongue hungrily against his firm lips, she prodded them open.

She’d never felt such intensity with any man ever in her almost thirty years. Her heart hammered in her chest. And that taste! Peppermint and musky spices exploded in her mouth as his tongue swirled against hers.

“Mmm,” she murmured against his lips. With wanton daring, she took his lower lip into her mouth and sucked. That wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Nibbling gently, she crushed herself against him. Her nipples hard enough to bust through her bra, she rubbed her breasts against his leather clad chest. How she wished they were in her bedroom, in her bed, and of course naked.

Windows fogged up around us. Like Titanic. She was Rose and he was Jack. All that was missing was her handprint on the window. Oh, and they weren’t in that Model T, either. Too bad she wasn’t born twenty years earlier. She would’ve been all for doing Rafe in the back seat of an antique car.

Then again, maybe Titanic wasn’t the best analogy. After all, didn’t Jack die in the end?

Rafe jerked away from her and turned to gaze out the passenger side window. With the swipe of his hand, he straightened his hair. Wiping off the condensation from the window, he grumbled. “What in the bloody hell?”

“W-what is it?” she asked, still breathless. She swiped her palm across the window, clearing the evidence of their late-afternoon tryst, if it could even be called a tryst. A movement near the side of her mom’s house caught her eye.

“Not it again,” she mumbled.

Hovering above her mom’s snow topped bushes, the hooded apparition from Macintosh’s, black flowing robes, hood, and all, floated along the house. Despite the darkness of its fa?ade, she didn’t get that dark vibe from it at all. Then again, she didn’t get that vibe from the Arca Inferorum either, and look where that led her. Hell on Earth.