“Who else will be playing?” I inquired, happy the little powwow was going so well.
“I do believe Hemingway will be there and we may get lucky enough to be graced by Mother Teresa.”
“Mother Teresa lives in Hell?” Ethan couldn’t hide his shock.
“Sweet Nephew Jesus, no. None of my poker buddies reside in Hell. They just take the bus over once a week to have a little fun. It’s a bit stuffy at my brother’s house.”
“Interesting,” Ethan said.
“So are you in, my man?” Satan asked.
“What do you play for?” my mate asked warily. I didn’t Vampyre-marry no dummy.
“Why, favors of course. If I win you make a little deal with the Devil.”
“And if I win?” Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“You make a deal with me.”
“So technically either way it’s a deal with the Devil . . . ” Ethan grinned, sat back and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m in. It will be good to rub it in with Dante and to kick your ass.”
“We shall see.” Satan grinned back. “It’s formal attire.”
“Problem,” I said.
My Uncle snapped his fingers and boxes and hanging bags full of clothing from the world’s finest designers appeared before our eyes. “Problem solved. I will see you this evening.”
With that he vanished. We sat in silence. I pondered the thought of meeting Hemingway and Mother Teresa and I wondered if anyone had ever beaten the Devil at poker.
“Today’s Thursday?” I asked.
“Looks that way,” Ethan muttered, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. “Do you think he cheats?”
“Most definitely,” I said, eyeing the bags labeled Prada.
“Angel,” he said in a voice that stopped me and made my tummy flip. “I believe we have some unfinished business.”
“I believe we do.” I slowly eased my shirt over my head as his eyes went from golden to green. “Should we adjourn to the boudoir?” I giggled as I slipped out of my pants and panties.
“Nope. I’d like to christen the couch, armchair and kitchen table for starters.”
His arms muscles stretched as he removed his pants—corded and strong. He was Heaven and sin personified and he was mine.
“Sounds like a plan,” I choked out. My body ached with need and speech was difficult. “Do you want me to come over there?”
“I want you to come everywhere—over and over again.”
Oh my God, that was hot. My knees buckled and he was on me faster than I could blink. I moaned as he manhandled my ass and ground me into his very happy camper.
“I want you,” he hissed in my ear. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your name.”
“That works for me,” I gasped, grinding against him. “Why are you knocking on the wall?”
“What?”
“You’re knocking on the wall,” I said as I tried to pull him to the floor. “Stop. It’s weird.”
“I thought it was you.”
“Why would I be knocking on the wall?”
“We’re not by a wall.” He groaned and stared at the ceiling. “We’re in the middle of the fucking room.
He was correct. “Then what the hell . . . ?”
“Astrid?” Dixie called from outside the front porch door. “Are you in there? I just got out of therapy and Daddy told me you were back here.”
“Shitshitshit, who did I screw over to deserve this? I’m gonna have blue balls,” I snapped, grabbing my clothes and yanking them on. Pre-orgasm. Again.
“Who is that?” Ethan ground out, clearly suffering from a very real bout of blue balls.
“My cousin, Dixie. She’s the one I like. Can you wait a little longer?” I asked, half hoping he’d say no . . .
“Can you?”
I nodded my head even though I wanted to cry in frustration. Was this like that tantric sex shit I read about? If it was, it sucked.
“It’s against every instinct that I have, but I’ll wait. However, when I have you later, it won’t be pretty, gentle or nice.
I shuddered and almost tripped over my pants. “Promise?”
“Swear.”
“Be right there, Dixie,” I yelled. Making sure Ethan was as covered as he could be with his ripped pants, I pushed him down on the chair and slapped a throw pillow over his enormous erection. Giving him a wink and flashing him my boobs, I open the door.
“Astrid, are you okay?” Dixie burst in the room and checked me over from head to toe.
“I’m good.”
“Daddy told me you’d been to the waiting area and some trouble went down. Did someone hurt you or try to force you to a lower level? Tell me what they looked like and I’ll have them banished to the Basement. I’d like to destroy them if they hurt you, but you do look fine. Maybe a little flushed, but fine.”