Page 16 of Raising Hell

“Why don’t you get out of the house?”

“And take you with me, right?” he asks, dryly.

“Well, that’s one option, yes. You can trust me to behave.”

His eyes move up to mine so slowly I think he’s frozen in time for a moment. “No, Cas. No, I absolutely cannot.” He sighsagain, putting his hands on his hips. “What I need to do is figure out how to reverse the spell I cast and send you back home.”

Ouch. I try to ignore that strange pinch in my chest.

“Maybe I could help,” I suggest, and he casts a doubtful glance my way. I scoff, unable to hide my irritation as I say, “Oh, come on. I know far more about magic than you.”

One skeptical eyebrow climbs his face as he glances around the bubble-filled room. “Cas, no offense, but…”

“Ah, ha!” I exclaim, and he jumps and jerks his eyes back to mine. “I have heard of this. It is a phrase humans use right before they are rude.”

“That’s not true.” His hesitation tells me he doesn’t believe his own argument.

“It is,” I insist. “My friend told me all about it. If a human says, ‘No offense,’ or ‘Bless Your Heart,’ or ‘Respectfully,’ it always means they are about to say something mean to you. It’s an indisputable fact.” He falls silent, his lips pressed together and twitching as if he wants to challenge me but realizes that I am right.

“You don’t have to be rude, because it’s the truth. I’m well versed in magic.” I gesture around the room with a flourish before I snap my fingers. A look of surprised awe crosses his face as the bubbles and water vanish, leaving the bathroom clean and dry. “Demons are born with their own magic and study that of the witches for most of our lives.”

His mouth hangs open a hair before he shakes his head. “You can do magic and you’re just now telling me this?”

“You didn’t ask,” I shrug, and he glares again, so I hurry to distract him. “Allow me to examine that spellbook and the spell you used. I may be able to unravel it. It can’t hurt to let me try.” That’s… a big lie, because it actually could hurt—a lot—but we’ll keep that to ourselves for now.

“Wait… wait, wait,wait…”He stares at me for long, drawn-out moments, pulling his lips between his teeth, and then his head tilts the tiniest bit to the side. It’s absolutely terrifying. “Just a gosh-darned second… you can do magic?”

“… yes?” I stretch the word out, confused, because I’ve already answered this question.

He appears thoughtful as he grips his chin and nods, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You could’ve been wearing clothes this whole time?” My eyes widen momentarily before I whip around and bend over to release the stopper.

If I don’t look at it, it can’t see me.

“Like, right now, for example?” he continues, and I hum a little tune to get the point across that I can’t hear him. “You could… I dunno…notbe showing me your butthole because you’d have pants on.”

“Why would I wear pants in the tub, Rory?” I ask, standing straight because I actually was flashing him my asshole, and not in a sexy way. The moment I realize I’ve responded, I wince, my shoulders tensing.

So much for that ruse.

He practically screeches as he asks, “So, that’s a yes?!”

My loud humming starts again, nonchalantly drying myself with the towel before walking past him and pretending I can’t see him either. What’s the phrase humans use?See no evil, hear no evil, only do enough evil to have fun?He thwarts my attempt to escape through the door by darting in front of me, and I crash into him. I grab his arms to steady both of us, my dick immediately taking notice of the friction.

When his eyes widen, I grin, realizing he feels what he’s doing to me. “Put some clothes on,” he hisses, gaze locked on mine, and I sigh. It’s a direct command, so I have little choice.

“Fine.” A quick thought is all it takes to summon a pair of pants, and he wilts in relief.

“Thank you…” He steps back and then sucks in a breath as his eyes slide down my body. “Cas,” he moans, and I bite my smile between my lips. “That is… not what I meant!”

I glance at the gray sweatpants that hug my legs, my dickprint perfectly visible through the thin material. “You said clothes, and I put on clothes.”

“Cover yourself!”

“I am covered!” I argue, gripping my cock through the fabric and sliding my hand along my length. “You can’t even see any skin.”

“Every vein is on display, Cas. Every vein!”

“Want to feel them?” I ask, grinning at him as I stroke myself again. As I step closer, he counters it, retreating until he’s against the wall. “You’re allowed to touch, sweet Rory,” I purr, inching my mouth to his ear. “Touch me, taste me… fuck me. You can do anything you want to me.”

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