Page 9 of Signed in Incubus

He sent a smoky demon limb out over the kitchen island to pat my head. “Did you expect me in something more likethis?” His ruffled apron morphed right before my eyes into a tool belt, the kind that screamed, “I’m a manly man, and I like to fix things.” There was even a hammer hanging off the loop at his hip.

It suited him very well, and I wished I had something in need of fixing. If only a broken heart, both from my asshole ex and from my uncaring parents, could be fixed with a hammer. I’d let him hammer me all night long.

Heh-heh. I tittered silently at my own thoughts.

The handyman get-up faded back to the white ruffled apron. “I figure this one is more appropriate since I’m cooking.”

There was nothing “appropriate” about Prax dressed in nothing but a French maid apron. Not even a French maid outfit! Just the apron! But I had to admit he wore it with excessive confidence. It was impossible for a body like that to be anything but manly.

I wasn’t going to pretend I wasn’t eyeing him like a piece of meat. Then again, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Besides,” he said, “this one shows off more of my ass-ets.” He did a little spin, flexing all the major muscles and some minor ones too.

“The two aprons are the same size, Prax.”

“How about now?” The garment shrank so that it more resembled a white frilly fig leaf than an apron.

Despite the ludicrously tiny micro apron, masculine sexuality still oozed from Prax. There was that incubus magic working again; I wanted to jump his bones and dry hump him like some sex-starved hussy right now. My mouth went dry at the expanse of rippled abs and happy trail on display.

He took a step toward me, sex and sin incarnate. “Coffee, tea, or me?”

The corny line pulled me out from under his spell. I tore my gaze away from the red-hot, inhuman Adonis commandeering my kitchen.

“Very cute. What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Making you breakfast. I was hoping it would be breakfast in bed, but you’re already up. I’ll start earlier tomorrow.”

He escorted me over to the table, and it almost felt like his hand phased right through my robe to caress my skin when it went to the small of my back. He placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me, the bacon extra crispy and the eggs over easy, just the way I liked them. There was even a side of toast with butter and fresh squeezed orange juice served in my wine glasses, which were the only cups I’d unpacked.

“I mean, what are you still doing here? You clearly came to snoop for my dad yesterday and blamed it on the spell.” I recalled the feeling of betrayal that had washed over me when I saw him behind my parents and let it fill me with rage. Good. I needed that rage to fight his incubus sex magic. “Was that little thing about me accidentally binding you fake too?” I spat. “I didn’t know Dad had demons in his employ, but okay. Fine. Your job is done here, Prax. If that’s even your real name. You’re not going to get anything else from me. Now leave.” I pointed to the front door.

He frowned. “I’m not snooping for the senator.”

“Okay, then explain how you got a call from your ‘employer’ after popping into my home—and by the way, it totally makes sense how you got past my wards now; the home technically belongs to him, so easy peasy—and then showed up as my parents’ bodyguard?”

“I told you: I answered the summons from your spell. I’m not employed by your parents. They were clients of Redrock Protective Services, and I was called in to be an emergency replacement.”

I’d heard of the gargoyle-owned security company. “You work for Redrock?”

“Sometimes, when they need someone. And yesterday, they did.”

I wasn’t sure what to believe.

“If it makes you feel any better, I took the long way to the airport and went extra slow, so they had to rush like crazy to make their flight. Serves them right for being such asses to you. I can’t believe they were berating you for makingthemlook bad. Aren’t fathers supposed to be there for their little girls when things go wrong?”

I scoffed, even though his words made me feel a little better. “I was never his little girl. I was…I don’t know, a prop. I’ve been coached on what to say and what not to say when the cameras are rolling ever since I could speak.”

“Well, I’m not working for them.”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t going to argue, especially when the guy had just made me breakfast. He still wasn’t going to get any information from me, though. And Idefinitelywouldn’t be sleeping with him now.

Bummer. I was looking forward to a little fun to get my mind off my troubles. Oh well. Maybe I’d find someone else tonight when I went out with Griselda and Lily.

For the first time, I was glad I’d acquiesced to my dad’s demands that the wedding be on a Thursday so that he could get back to Boston by Saturday to cut the ribbon on some new shopping plaza or something.

I broke the yolk and dipped the extra crispy bacon into it as Prax sat down across from me with his own plate. Some people thought that demons didn’t eat, and although technically they didn’t need to, they did. They loved food. They loved anything physically pleasurable. Like crispy bacon dipped in runny egg yolk.

---