“Tattooed homicidal maniacs are always more fascinating than slim, blond surgeons,” I muttered.
And why was that?
I forced myself back to the book. One good thing, it made me sleepy. Just after midnight I gave up and went to bed.
All the excitement had revved me up, and now I was crashing hard. Everything went black not more than an instant after my head hit the pillow.
I had a doozy of a dream.
The French doors opened. A breeze fluttered the curtains. The quilt waved like wind across water as it slithered off my bed. The sheets soon followed.
My body was hot, almost feverish. I yanked off my sweat suit and lay naked to the night.
A shadow slid from the balcony and into my room; like a spreading stain the gray darkness crept across the carpet, up the side of the bed, and spilled over me.
I was no longer hot, but pleasantly cool, the rapidly chilling sweat causing goose bumps to rise on my skin.
My sigh was arousal, desperation, need. Writhing, I cried out, and the shadow took the shape of a man. No more than a shade really, impossible to see who he was, or even if he was.
The wind was a whisper all around me, a language I didn’t understand, yet words that encouraged me nonetheless. The air touched me everywhere, a caress that I welcomed.
I’d been waiting for this all of my life. Did I mention that I was a virgin?
The feather-light stroke of lips to the pulse at my throat, a tongue trailing over one breast, then the other, teeth grazing my nipple, then my stomach, then my thigh. Heated breath brushed the curls between my legs as a clever tongue did things that made me both limp and tense, tantalized and tortured.
I came awake, panting and gasping, my dream orgasm still rocketing through my body. I glanced around my room and stifled a scream.
The balcony doors were open, and a man stood on the other side.
4
I fumbled for the phone, knowing it was too late for 911, but I had to try. Unfortunately, at the first press of a button, the first tiny beep, the man on the balcony walked into my room.
I dropped the phone.
“You!”
Chavez bent and picked up the bedspread from the floor, then calmly flipped it around my shoulders and turned away. I hadn’t gone to bed naked, but I was now. How much of that dream had been real?
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought—”
“We’ve been over this. There aren’t any demons, Chavez. Go away.”
“I couldn’t just let him come back and murder you.”
I nearly dropped the bedspread. “Murder me? Since when does he want to murder me?”
“What part of incubus didn’t you understand?”
“The part where he kills me.”
“He feeds off of sex.”
“Still not hearing death anywhere in that explanation.”
“After he’s through with the women he’s chosen, they…” He paused, stuck his fingers into his pockets, and shrugged. “They’re sucked dry.”
“Which means?”
“He has sex with them until they turn to dust.”
Chavez had an answer to everything. I still wasn’t buying any of it.
“Thanks for the info,” I said, “but you don’t need to stay. I’ll be extra careful. Besides, I’ve got great locks and an even better security system.”
“I got in.”
That stopped me.
“How?”
“Breaking and entering. The demon will have an even easier time.”
“Because…?”
“They can teleport.”
“That’s it!” I pointed to the door. “I’m sick of your fairy tales.”
“Fairies aren’t my department.”
“Out!” I shouted.
Chavez was unimpressed with my theatrics. His gaze wandered over the room, over me. I pulled the bedspread tighter across my breasts.
“I wanted to watch for a while, just in case he was nearby. Then I saw someone moving around in your apartment.”
“You mean someone like me?”
His dark, serious eyes met mine. “Definitely not you.”
Despite my brave words, I glanced toward the bedroom door.
Chavez laid a hand on my arm. “I searched the place. No one’s here.”
His touch, in my bedroom, in the night, with me wearing nothing but a blanket, should have been unnerving. Instead I found it comforting. My reactions to men tonight were nothing short of bizarre.
“No one except you,” I muttered.
The room was dark, his figure shadowy. I was reminded of the dream, and my skin suddenly felt too small for my body. I shifted, and he stepped back quickly, as if he didn’t want to get too close to me, almost as if he were afraid.
I glanced up, and his eyes glittered in the small amount of light from the half moon that spilled through the open French doors. What time was it? How long had I been asleep?