Succubus Dreams Page 0,2

long enough. In my case, it didn't taken years of bickering. A too-long kiss would suffice. Such was the life of a succubus. I didn't make the rules, and I had no way to stop the involuntary energy theft that came from intimate physical contact. I could, however, control whether that physical contact happened in the first place, and I made sure it didn't. I ached for Seth, but I wouldn't steal his life as I had Bryce's.

I sat as well, ready to get up, but Seth must have been feeling bold this morning. He wrapped his arms around my waist and shifted me onto his lap, pressing himself against my back so that his lightly stubbled face buried itself in my neck and hair. I felt his body tremble with the intake of a heavy, deep breath. He exhaled it just as slowly, like he sought control of himself, and then strengthened his grip on me.

"Georgina," he breathed against my skin.

I closed my eyes, and the playfulness was gone. A dark intensity wrapped around us, one that burned with both desire and a fear of what might come.

"Georgina," he repeated. His voice was low, husky. I felt like melting again. "Do you know why they say succubi visit men in their sleep?"

"Why?" My own voice was small.

"Because I dream about you every night." In most circumstances, that would have sounded trite, but from him, it was powerful and hungry.

I squeezed my eyes tighter as a swirl of emotions danced within me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to make love to him. I wanted to scream. It was all too much sometimes. Too much emotion. Too much danger. Too much, too much.

Opening my eyes, I shifted so that I could see his face. We held each other's gazes, both of us wanting more and unable to give or take it. Breaking the look first, I slipped regretfully from his embrace. "Come on. Let's go eat."

Seth lived in Seattle's university district - the U-district to locals - and was within easy walking distance to assorted shops and restaurants that lay adjacent to the University of Washington's campus. We found breakfast at a small café, and omelets and conversation soon banished the earlier awkwardness. Afterward, we wandered idly up University Way, holding hands. I had errands to run, and he had writing to do, yet we were reluctant to part.

Seth suddenly stopped walking. "Georgina."

"Hmm?"

His eyebrows rose as he stared off at something across the street. "John Cusack is standing over there."

I followed his incredulous gaze to where a man very like Mr. Cusack did indeed stand, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against a building. I sighed.

"That's not John Cusack. That's Jerome."

"Seriously?"

"Yup. I told you he looked like John Cusack."

"Keyword: looked. That guy doesn't look like him. That guy is him."

"Believe me, he's not." Seeing Jerome's impatient expression, I let go of Seth's hand. "Be right back."

I crossed the street, and as the distance closed between my boss and me, Jerome's aura washed over my body. All immortals have a unique signature, and a demon like Jerome had an especially strong one. He felt like waves and waves of roiling heat - like when you open an oven and don't stand far enough back.

"Make it fast," I told him. "You're ruining my romantic interlude. Like usual."

Jerome dropped the cigarette and put it out with his black Kenneth Cole oxford. He glanced disdainfully around. "What, here? Come on, Georgie. This isn't romantic. This place isn't even a pit stop on the road to romance."

I put an angry hand on one hip. Whenever Jerome interrupted my personal life, it usually heralded a series of mishaps I'd never wanted to be involved in. Something told me this was no exception. "What do you want?"

"You."

I blinked. "What?"

"We've got a meeting tonight. An all staff meeting."

"When you say 'all staff', do you mean like all staff?"

The last time Seattle's supervising archdemon had gathered everyone in the area together, it had been to inform us that our local imp wasn't "meeting expectations." Jerome had let us all tell the imp good-bye and then banished the poor guy off to the fiery depths of Hell. It was kind of sad, but then my friend Hugh had replaced him, so I'd gotten over it. I hoped this meeting wouldn't have a similar purpose.

He gave me an annoyed look, one that said I was clearly wasting his time. "That's the definition of all staff, isn't it?"

"When is it?"

"Seven. At Peter