An Angel's Justice
Danica Winters
Sarah was no angel. For the first time, and hopefully the last, she found herself holding white lace-covered wings, an ill-fitting saint mask, and wearing one crooked halo. She flipped down her mask and pulled the keys from her car's ignition. It was now or never-and there was no escaping her boss's attendance-required Halloween party.
She hated Halloween, and this year was no exception, the day just another excuse for her idiotic co-workers to get drunk and fondle each other. Maybe what upset her the most was the fact she didn't have anyone to fondle her. Regardless, her solo status was only made worse by being at her boss's house, which was filled with a bunch of drunken ass-grabbers wearing the only attire allowed-their company's line of Halloween themed lingerie.
She stepped out of her comfortable seat and slammed her car door shut. Her high heels clicked on the walkway as she tugged at the laced edges of the white satin corset that had ridden up her side. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heart as she readjusted her tilted halo.
The thumping noise of the party greeted her as she made her way up the concrete steps that led to her boss's front door.
A man leaned against the bricks of the arched entryway. "Are you alone, little angel?"
His face and body were the same shade of red as the front door of the house and he had black, cow-like horns that extended above his ears.
"Who's asking?"
"The Devil." He laughed wickedly. "Or, as I would prefer-your Devil."
She slid her arms into the holes of the lop-sided wings and stepped closer to the mysterious black-haired man.
"How ‘bout this, Devil … Let's stick together and make a pass around the idiot circuit, and then we can see where things take us?" She looped her arm around his and reached up to stroke his muscular chest.
She was acting like a tramp, but wearing the mask made her feel protected by the anonymity the thin plastic offered. She could say what she wanted, to whomever she wanted. The effect was exhilarating and unexpectedly empowering. Usually she was the quiet underling, but tonight she could be the fallen angel. And if he was lucky, she could be his fallen angel.
His eyes brightened.
"I like your plan." He gave her a quick swat on top of her satin panties. He leaned into her ear. "Great costume by the way."
He opened the door and she walked into the smoke-scented house.
"Thanks." She pointed to his form-fitting black leather pants. "It looks like you got out of wearing a G-string tonight."
He slapped the sleek black leather. "These aren't much better."
"I like them." She stepped back to take a look at his perfectly rounded ass. She sucked in a breath. "They're sexy."
The Devil smiled.
A blonde woman she recognized from Accounting walked up to the man at her side. Sarah could smell the pungent aroma of bourbon on the woman's breath.
"Hey, Mr. Devil … " The woman reached up to touch one of his horns.
He slapped her hand away. "Don't."
"What? Don't you want anybody to polish your horn?" She giggled.
He said nothing as he grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her away from the drunken woman and towards the roaring fireplace in the main room. The velvet-draped room looked like the set of a bad porn film, complete with dim lights, which created the feel of welcome hedonism.
At the far side of the room, Sarah recognized their masked sixty-something secretary. A wayward nipple protruded from her net body suit as if it wanted to escape. The woman should have known a mask wouldn't keep her identity a secret; it didn't cover her curly grey hair. From what Sarah could see, the woman's hair was greying everywhere.
"I can see what you mean about the idiot circuit." The Devil nudged her, gesturing in the direction of a man who leaned over the bar, obviously the worse for drink and wearing only a pair of assless chaps.
The man's naked ass wiggled as he reached for his almost-empty glass. His fingers bumped against the glass and he slowly circled his fingers around the drink. The man lurched as he stepped back from the bar.
"I think having an adult novelty company throw a lingerie-themed Halloween party was a bad idea," Sarah whispered, averting her eyes from the man's bare ass.
The Devil nodded. "I'm sure your fool of a boss has realized that by now."
"He's not a fool."
Her boss, Mike, was the only person in the office she could stand. When she found out he had gone along with the Halloween charade her co-workers had arranged she had been surprised.
She looked around the room, but Mike was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was trying to humiliate everyone by allowing them to dress like sluts and pimps, without having to be embarrassed himself. She couldn't help the feeling of foolishness that rose within her.
Had that been Mike's intention? To demean his underlings? She shook off the thoughts. That isn't like Mike. He isn't the kind to belittle his friends and employees.
For him to intentionally shame people seemed like the exact opposite of the sweet, caring man she knew-the man who knew her secret weakness for overly-sweetened coffee, two creams and three sugars, and who sent her emails of clichéd motivational posters every Friday.
He was probably just late to the party … Or maybe she just didn't know the man. Maybe he was nothing more than a closet sadomasochist who derived pleasure from making other people squirm.
"God, I can't believe I'm here." She pulled at the edge of her corset. She had never felt more ridiculous than she did now, standing in front of her co-workers half-naked.
Someone thrust a drink into her hand.
"Mentioning God right now seems like a bad idea." The Devil motioned around the room. "This place could burst into flames."
"Flames?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Aren't they part of your job description?"
"I could rain fire on this place," he joked. "But I wouldn't risk hurting you. If I did, then who would ‘polish my horn'?"
"You have high hopes if you think I'll be polishing anything of yours." Sarah tried to not notice the way all the women's gazes fluttered toward the man at her side. "If that's what you're looking for, there are plenty of other women at this party who would gladly help you. But I'm not one of them."
She pulled off the mask and dropped it on the floor. Taking a long swig from the drink, she let the straight vodka burn its way down.
His eyes sparkled as he looked her up and down. "It doesn't matter what they want. I only want you."
"How does it feel to want what you can't have?" She turned away.
"But you said─"
She looked over her shoulder, back at the red man. "I changed my mind."
He put his hand on the small of her back. His hot touch made the sudden heat between her thighs grow.
The party was getting a whole lot better.
"Maybe I can change your mind." He pushed her back into the corner closest to the fireplace.
He claimed her mouth with the strong force of his own. She submitted to his desires as he parted her lips with his searching tongue.
His hands slipped down the bones of her corset as he slid his fingers into her damp panties. He stroked her as his kiss deepened. His fingers spun faster and faster and she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her lips.
Sensing her need, he drove his fingers inside of her. Rubbing her from the inside, he pushed his thumb to her swollen nub in a synchronized motion, doubly moved to satisfy.
She closed her eyes and went limp from his incredible touch. She tried to remain standing, but her legs weakened. The man pushed her against the wall as he supported her weight with the strength of his body.
She opened lust-blinded eyes and, seeing none of the drunken idiots noticed, she drove her hips in unison with his touch. Her moan was deep and throaty, and at the sound, he ran his moist lips up her neck. The simple motion pushed her over the edge and as she cried out, but he captured the echoes with his open mouth.
"Next time I will satisfy you with all of me," he whispered, nibbling her ear.
She could say nothing as he held her orgasming body to the wall.
As her thighs quivered against the skin of his wrist, he gently bit her lip and pulled his wet fingers from her.
She wanted all of him. But as he took her glass of vodka and finished it, she realized she wasn't sure if she wanted to take their tryst any further. What would happen when the party was over? When she had to return to work and face the mystery man? What if he was married?
"Tell me who you are."
"I'm the Devil. I already told you."
"I have no doubt you are devilish, but who are you?"
"Sleep with me and I will tell you."
Her internal danger meter shot off the charts. Only a man with something major to hide would play such a deceptive game.
As luck had it for him, this was a game she was growing to like.
She took the empty glass from him and set it on the mantel. Grabbing his hand, she pulled his fingers into her mouth and licked her flavor from him. He tensed and she could see the bulge beneath his leather pants shift. Taking his whole finger in her mouth, she looked into his eyes and sucked.