Jim’s hand flashed out and grabbed a hunk of her hair, yanking it so hard she nearly came then and there.
Leaning in, he looked like he was going to bite her. “Funny, I didn’t think your methods were working for you.”
“That first win with Matthias is still mine,” she spat, her head cranked to the side.
“No soul to keep, though, huh.”
“A small price to pay to win the war.”
“That where you think you’re headed?” He closed in, bending her even harder. “’Cuz it’s not how I see things going.”
They were both straining, their faces together, their bodies curled in tight. And all around them it was quiet—not just because it was dark outside. He had a spell in place—even in his anger and his preoccupying hatred, he still had enough left over to make sure that pesky humans didn’t interrupt them.
It was positively romantic.
And on that note, she ripped herself out of his hold, leaving him with a handful of brunette strands.
Okay, that stung. Which was kind of fun.
“You want me,” she said, passing a hand over the bald spot and regrowing more of those perfect waves.
“To die. Yeah, I do.”
“Number one, I’m immortal. And number two, let me teach you a little lesson, Jim—”
“I don’t need shit from you.”
She smiled and stared pointedly at his sex—which had made a tent out of the most dreadful pair of sweatpants she’d ever seen. “I’m not sure about that. And I’d listen closely to this, if I were you—you are a new player in town. Me and the Maker? We go back further than that proverbial twinkle in your father’s eye. He created me, Jim. I am as beloved to Him as your boss, Nigel. I am the balance—without me, there is no Heaven, no goodness, no peaceable hearts-and-flowers bullshit, because when it comes to free will, contrast is required if the gifts are to be relished. I am His idea.”
The angel crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why is the game predicated on your destruction?”
“More like it’s predicated on Nigel’s.” She looked him up and down, measuring his body, that big, muscular body that she’d had in so many different ways, both willing…and not. “You know, I chose you, too—it wasn’t just your ‘boss.’ In the beginning of all this, I agreed with Nigel that you’d be the one on the field. You were part evil and part good, as equal as we could find.” Devina walked back over to him. “So if you have a problem with the way things are being handled with any ancillaries like that reporter, it’s your fucking fault.”
“Mine?”
She put her fingertip on his chest. “You were supposed to be half-and-half, good and evil—except I gotta say, you’ve disappointed me and under-represented my side. Therefore, you’ve left me no choice but to act in precisely the way I was designed to conduct business—”
When his hand shot out again, she locked a deadly grip on his wrist. “You touch my hair once more and I’m going to fuck you up…instead of fuck you good.”
“I don’t want you—you make me sick.”
Her hand zipped right down to his cock and gave it a squeeze. “Really.”
Jim broke it off this time, slapping her away, stepping back. Abruptly his voice became level, but that was a lie. “The blondes aren’t working on me, Devina. You’re wasting your time with them.”
“Am I? Or is that just what you want me to believe.” She came forward, bringing them back together, reuniting their bodies. “I think it’s the latter.”
“It’s not getting to me, demon.” He lowered his lips back within range. “And it’s your funeral if you push the rules too far—or do you think having another go at one of the souls is the worst thing your Maker can do to you? I’m thinking it isn’t.” Jim leaned himself even closer to her, until their mouths were nearly touching. “I’m thinking He can do so much worse.”
Just to piss him off, she bit him on the lip, the blood tasting good.
He didn’t even hiss.
No, instead he turned his head and spit. Then he just looked at her—like he wanted to kill her with his bare hands.
How. Delicious. Was. That.
God, she was beyond ready for some good, old-fashioned, no-holds-barred fucking, the kind that was going to leave marks and have her sore for days.
And in the tense, almost-there silence, she considered her options. More lecturing. More needling.
Or…she could take a match out and light this bomb.
“If I were you, I’d be nicer to me,” she said, extending her tongue and lapping up the freshly welled blood on his lower lip. “Because I have something you want, don’t I—and things could get pretty uncomfortable for your little girl if I’m so inclined. What’s her name? Sissy, is it—”
Boom.
Chapter Forty-three
As Matthias went down on his woman, only part of his mind was on the sex. The other half was busy reporting on developments south of his waistband.
It appeared as if he was hard as a two-by-four—and just as long.
Licking at Mels’s core, sucking on her, going deep with his tongue, he couldn’t believe the erection that was now, at this very moment, enjoying the friction of being trapped between his lower belly and the mattress.
Surprise!
He’d first noticed the change in his body as soon as he’d gotten Mels naked on the bed. One look at her perfect breasts and he’d felt a shock nail the head of his cock.
He’d glanced down at his hips and then figured he’d lost his mind.
Except, when he’d gotten up off the mattress to follow her into the bathroom, he could have sworn the shift of the pants over his pelvis registered a very specific kind of hi-how’re-ya.
And now, with her coming against his face, the heart of her open to his mouth, her taste hitting the back of his throat, he knew the impossible had happened.
Reaching down, he shoved his hand between his legs.
The moan that came out of him went right into her sex.
He was hard.
Rock-hard.
And desperate, apparently: because a single, quick stroke on the top of those borrowed leathers and he had to collapse into Mels’s leg, the shock, the gratitude, the—
Logic pulled all the whoo-hoo’ing up short, reminding him that just because he had an erection, that didn’t mean he could finish the job.
“Matthias?”
As he cleared his throat, Mels clearly knew something was doing, his woman rising off the pillows. “What is it?”
Straightening, he got on the mattress and balanced on his knees. Then he took her hand and drew it forward. He didn’t trust his voice, but then again, there was no need to talk this out. The instant she felt him, she was going to understand.
Thinking back to that craziness with Adrian in the bathroom, he still had no idea what had happened—but in addition to getting his vision back, he was now hard, and he was more than willing—and, thanks to that guy, he appeared to be, after so long, able as well.
He nearly teared the fuck up.
To be with her, really be with her…
That man was an angel, capable of miracles.
Matthias placed her palm on himself. The second contact was made, his hips jerked forward, his cock pushing into her touch, his molars locking from the shock of the pleasure.
Mels stiffened—natch.
Speak, you fool, he said to himself. Say something.
Instead, all he could do was rub himself against her, rolling his hips—which kind of counted as begging, he supposed.
And oh, sweet Jesus…Mels took over from there, her face rapt, her eyes gleaming as she gripped him through the pants.
Falling to the side, he let her claim him, his body going loose as she knelt between his legs and went for the waistband of the leathers Adrian had lent him.
“Are you okay with this?” she asked him.