When she came to the waist of my jeans, she undid the button and yanked down the zipper. Hard. Blood thundered in my ears. I didn’t know how the demon was doing it. Staying so still. I’d have attacked her by now. Thrown her down and torn off every scrap of clothing on her body. Not Azirak. It retained control, standing statue-still as Sam slipped her hand into my jeans.
She cupped me, working her hand and squeezing lightly. Azirak gasped, and when Sam’s fingers moved to the waistband of my underwear, fingers slipping inside, the atmosphere in the room changed. It darkened. Something shattered, and a floodgate opened. In that moment, all I wanted was to take her. Any way I could. Every way I could.
The demon lifted her off the ground and charged the bed, pinning her beneath my body. Its mouth was on hers, ravaging, while my fingers tugged—no, pulled—at her hair. It ground itself against her, and the noises she made, soft moans and surprised whimpers, drove us both close to the edge.
“I understand now,” it whispered, pulling back, hoarse and short of breath. “The allure you hold for him. He wants you. As do I.”
Sam sat up, her breath ragged, the expression on her face sad. “I want him, too. But only him.”
Just when I thought it would tear her jeans off and finally in the most fucked-up way possible give me what I’d waited so long for, Azirak was off the bed and across the room. A new feeling filled me, coming from the demon and bleeding into the room. Blue. Sadness. The rejection it felt was stifling, choking out the air, and I couldn’t breathe. When the reality of it hit me, I was stunned. I loved Sam. I’d loved her my entire life. But now, I wasn’t the only one. Azirak loved her, too. I didn’t know when it happened, or how, but I knew it just as I knew my own name. Azirak was in love with Sam. It wouldn’t feed from her.
It bent to retrieve my shirt from the floor. “I am sorry. There is no him. There is no me. There is only us. You will both need to accept this.”
My feet, still under the demon’s command, carried us from the room and onto the street.
Chapter Thirty
Sam
I paced the hotel room for the six hundredth time. This was becoming an annoying habit. Back and forth between the cheap faux wooden desk and someone’s sick idea of art—a horrible painting of a countryside pasture. Jax had been gone awhile and I knew I shouldn’t worry—he was a demon for crap’s sake—but I did. The way Azirak left made concerned me. I’d made a deal with it. Information in exchange for… For what? Would I really have gone through with it? Screwed a demon? It gave a twisted new definition to the phrase “anything for love.”
I sank onto the bed, too tired to keep moving. Sleep hadn’t been something I’d gotten much of in the last few days. Since the dreams started, I’d been avoiding it. Coffee, caffeine pills. Whatever I could do to stay awake. Unfortunately, it was all about to catch up and the timing couldn’t possibly be worse.
Moving. I needed to keep moving. That way, I couldn’t nod off. I jumped from the bed and resumed pacing. No nightmare land, then no sleepwalking into the arms of the enemy. But with each step, resolve crumbled a little more. Grabbing the TV remote, I flipped it on and began channel surfing. Unfortunately, there were only two. Old game shows and infomercials. Both would have the opposite effect I was after.
Mashing the off button, I tossed the remote across the room and ran both hands through my hair. Just a few minutes. I wouldn’t sleep. Just lie down and keep both eyes open.
No. Bad idea. My eyes fell to the chair on the other side of the room. Less comfortable than the bed. I made a beeline for the tacky piece of furniture, settling in and tucking both feet up. “Count sheep,” I said to myself. “One, two, three…” No. Something loud. “Crickets. Crickets are annoying…”
Twelve seconds and I was out of the chair and moving again. Sitting still was no good. “Four, five, six…” With each step came a new number, and each new number brought me one step closer to oblivion. By the time the door opened and Jax walked in, I was ready to drop.
He was him again. The demon was gone, Jax’s beautiful stormy eyes peeking back from beneath a mop of dark, unruly hair. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, watching me with a puzzled expression.
“I’m exhausted. If I sit—or stand—still, my eyes just close.”
Still, he said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. Apologizing was stupid since none of this was my fault; still, I couldn’t help it. “I didn’t want to worry you. It’s been a while.” Because that’s what he looked right now. Worried. “So, did you get what you needed?”
He looked better than when he’d left. His color was closer to normal and he didn’t seem as tense. Before, each and every movement was jerky and stiff. Even his voice had been different. Edgy and clipped.
He shook his head. No.
He hadn’t gotten what he needed. For some reason, a rush of heat hit me.
Jax watched me. I wished I could see emotions like he could. At least then maybe I’d have some idea about what was going on inside that head of his. His gaze was unflinching and raw. Like he was holding something monumental back.
I fell back onto the bed. “I can’t just sit here. I’m going to pass out.”
Still, nothing.
He took a step toward me, then stopped and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were black. “If I were to tell you the only way you could have him is to take me, what would you say?”
I swallowed. “I’d say…” What? What would I say? I wanted him, but could I do it? Knowing…
I stood as he came another step closer. My heart kicked into overdrive.
“I am a part of him. One cannot exist without the other. If you are with him, then you are with me. This is the only way. Does this revolt you?”
I wasn’t revolted. Not by Jax. And the demon was right. Azirak was as much a part of Jax as his love of swiss cheese and Belushi movies. As his strong arms and unbelievably sexy grin. As his compassion and fiercely protective nature. “There is no part of Jax that I don’t want,” I said defiantly. “I want him. All of him.”
Azirak growled and closed the distance. His lips came to my mouth. The kiss was fierce. Animalistic. It stole my breath and fanned the flame that had been building from the moment I’d seen him at the diner. His fingers dug into my flesh as he ran them roughly up my neck and tangled them in my hair. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he yanked my head to the right, exposing my neck. A spike of pain came and went as his teeth grazed the skin and I let out a whimper, arching up off the mattress and closer to him.
He laughed. Dark. Dangerous. Deadly.
Demonic.
This was what I needed. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I kissed him back as though life, survival, depended on it. Every night I’d dreamed of him. Every morning I woke thinking of him. All the things I’d wanted to share with him over the years. I lifted my head to reclaim his lips, pouring it all into the kiss. A kiss meant for Jax.
He moaned, a feral noise low in his throat, and lifted me from the mattress. His hands gripped my backside, palming and kneading the flesh, and just when I was about to cry out, we were moving. There was a breeze, my hair fluttering all around, then something hard and solid was at my back. Azirak crushed me between Jax’s hard body and the wall. His lips came to mine again, with bruising force, and he moaned words I didn’t understand into my mouth. When he was finished, he captured my top lip between his teeth and pulled, teasing the tip of it with his tongue. I bucked against him, the sensation of it shattering.
His hands were everywhere all at once. On either side of my face. Sliding greedily down my neck and torso. Over my hips. I never imagined feeling anything as potent as his raw, passionate need. No matter what he grabbed, he couldn’t seem to get enough. Jax’s blunt fingernails scraped across skin, leaving electric prickles in their wake. One part pain and five parts ecstasy.