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"Alright. Well, I am going to go slip into something to make all the seats wet," Red said, smirking at us before sashaying out of the room.
"The kids are home," Ace said, sighing.
"They do half the work for us," I said, shrugging. "Remember when we all had to go to the rallies nonstop?"
"Don't remind me," Ace said, grimacing.
He made a terrible biker. He was a little too well-spoken, a little too into his books. He'd never fit in with the outwardly rough-and-tumble biker sort.
That said, the human bikers would shit themselves if they knew the real Ace, and if they knew the evil, twisted shit he liked to do. If we ever got back to hell, countless of those bastards would see first-hand what frauds they were, and how legit he was.
"Sounds like they're arriving," Drex said, nodding toward the driveway where a couple people were rolling up on bikes.
Anticipation sizzled across my skin as the house started to fill up, as liquor started to pour, and music pounded.
Within an hour of the first person arriving, the place was packed. Women gyrated, skinny-dipped, flashed their tits to anyone who asked.
Men fought, drank, and watched the women.
As for us?
Well, we did what we did best.
We brought out their wicked.
We whispered in their ears, we supplied their drinks and drugs.
It wasn't until nearly two hours into the party that I remembered the witch upstairs.
"Shit," I hissed, looking up at the sky, hoping she wasn't already getting all fucking weepy. I rushed up the stairs, opening the door, and finding her standing facing the windows, munching on some fucking apple slices.
"Can I come down now?" she asked.
"Yeah. But remember the rules. No talking. Stay unseen."
"You have a lot of friends," she said as we made our way down the stairs.
"I don't know any of them. This is a night for work. Alright. Go," I demanded, waving a hand out, seeing Minos coming around the corner, not wanting him to see me with the witch, to draw conclusions.
"You're kinda hot," a warm voice whispered in my ear as I watched two bikers staring off at each other over a game of cards. They just needed the smallest of urges to come to blows, to start a war between their MCs. It would be short and easy work.
"Yeah?" I asked, turning to her, finding what I expected. The women here were always the same. Pretty in a forgettable way, their tits on full display, jeans so tight you could see their fucking pussies through them.
All these years on the earthly plane, one thing that didn't really get old was sex.
All it usually took was a smile like this chick was giving me, one full of scandalous promise, to get me hard and aching for it.
Any other party, I would have pushed her onto her knees in front of me, pulled out my cock, and let her suck me off right then and there.
No one would even notice. People fucked in every corner of these parties.
But even with her looking at me with those promising eyes, I felt nothing. Not a stirring. Jack shit.
What the fuck was going on?
Even as I thought it, a figure came into view, walking with her back plastered to the wall, eyes huge, lips parted at whatever she was looking at. I couldn't see it myself with the wall blocking my view, but I couldn't help but wonder what she was looking at. At one of these parties, anything was possible.
"What do you think of him?" I asked, turning the girl, pointing toward Minos.
"Ohhh," she said, the sound vibrating through her.
What can I say?
Minos might not have had much going for him in the personality department, but he was always the best looking fucker in a room.
He towered over the rest of us, all long dark hair and corded muscles.
And in this generation, the women dug his beard, the fact that he would braid his hair, wear it up, that they could run their fingers through it.
"Yeah. Go get 'im," I suggested, already turning, making my way toward the witch.
I was a solid ten feet away when I could smell her.
Fucking pineapples and watermelon and ripe peaches, that was what she smelled like right then. Sweet and dripping down the chin.
I was hard from two yards away.
She turned slightly, following whatever she was watching, allowing me to move in behind her, look over her shoulder.
And there they were.
A man and a woman the next room over.
She had her tits out the top of her tube top, her skirt yanked up around her waist, getting plowed from behind by some random guy whose name I doubt she knew.
That made sense, didn't it?
She was turned on.
That was why her scent was stronger.
She was turned on watching these other people fuck.
How overpowering would her scent be if, instead of touching, instead of just getting a taste, I made her come?
