Page 8 of Demon’s Temptation

The rhythm of taking orders, making small talk, and delivering drinks made the time move quickly, keeping her mind off a certain infuriating incubus. The music was great and she found herself enjoying it like she usually did. Shaking her ass on the way to the bar, she did a little dance, laughing with some of the other girls. Either no one really noticed what happened earlier or they were too nice to mention it. Whichever it was, she was thankful for it.

On her way back toward her section of the club, she took in all the action going on around her. Unlike a lot of other clubs like this, most came to Toxic for one-night hookups. Still, some found lasting relationships.

One of their regulars, a Dom, sat with his now long-term sub. She kneeled at his side, a collar around her neck. He petted her, fingers running through her long hair. The female kept her eyes downcast, but their devotion to each other was unmistakable.

Could Chaya do that? Be like that female? She tried to imagine it, but for some reason she felt herself identifying more with her Dom.

Christ, what kind of a freak did that make her?

She didn’t want to think about it and quickly looked away, taking in the different couples, long-term and casual, and she felt that familiar ache behind her ribs…

Heat hit the back of her neck and coasted down her spine, making her shiver. Just like that she knew he was back on the floor and he was watching her. Did he do it on purpose? Was he trying to screw with her head? Because he’d made it clear tonight, despite the blatant desire he fired her way, nothing was going to happen between them.

She spun around and searched through the crowd. There. She met his stare and the bastard didn’t look away. She felt frozen to the spot, like she had earlier. Why was he tormenting her like this? She gritted her teeth and refused to look away first. No more.

To her surprise, he did, dropping his gaze, then he strode away.

She clenched her fists. She had to beat this craving for a man who refused to give her a chance, give her any damn thing but mixed signals and rejection.

She turned away and took another drink order, doing her fucking job like he’d told her to. She was weaving her way through the crowd, heading back toward the bar, when he stepped in front of her.

Goddammit.

“Chay, we need to talk.” His jaw was hard, but his eyes had softened, didn’t hold that edge she’d seen earlier.

Right then she wanted to do physical harm to the guy. No way did she want to have a damn chat with him. “Jesus, do you have a split personality or something? You told me to work. I’m working.”

She tried to step around him, but he grabbed her arms. The smell of sex washed over her. She jolted. She’d heard the talk, that Brent never usually fucked the people he took into that room. She’d definitely never smelled it on him like this before. Pain washed through her.

What was wrong with her that she wanted a man who said in every way but words that he wanted her then turned her away and fucked someone else? Sex demon or not. She had a damn screw loose.

She pulled her arm free. “It’ll have to wait. I have orders to fill.”

“I don’t give a shit about your orders.”

He stood in her way and motioned to his office.

Goddammit, was he was going to stand there all night if she didn’t do what he wanted? Jesus. She just wanted this over with. Storming past him, she strode to his office. When he followed her in, she spun on him. “What the hell is your problem?”

He shut the door and turned to face her. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You dragged me in here for that?”

“Chay—”

“Oh, no you don’t.” She shook her head and headed for the exit. She didn’t want to hear it. He was an expert at screwing with her head, her emotions. Her resolve was finally set. Nothing was going to happen between them, but again here he was confusing her, intentional or not, giving her hope where there was none.

His big hand slammed against the door, stopping her from escape. “Chay…wait.” He took her shoulders, turning her to face him. “I don’t want there to be this tension between us. You’re important to me. You know that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Can we…can we be friends again?”

Yeah, there was tension. Huge, pulsing amounts of sexual tension that he could try to deny all he liked, but it wasn’t going away, would never go away if she stayed there.

She stepped closer, crowding him, trying to force him to acknowledge it because, goddammit, she couldn’t help herself.

His throat worked. “Please, Chay.”

She held his wild stare, waiting for something, anything, but he did nothing. She shook her head. “I’m sick of the bullshit, Brent. I’m sick of you saying one thing then pulling shit like this. I don’t want to be your friend, and I’m…I’m sick of pretending.” She somehow found the courage she’d struggled to find earlier and forced the words past her lips. “You know what I want.”

He stilled, and her heart started hammering in her chest. His breath rushed through his lips, ruffling her hair, his surprise obvious. He clearly never thought she had the stones to say it, to acknowledge the thing that sparked between them and blazed so hot she felt like she was on fire whenever they were together.