Page 45 of Accidentally Vacationed with an Incubus

“So... what’s the, uh, plan?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Devlin clicked his tongue thoughtfully against the roof of his mouth before replying. “I was thinking you could hide behind that armchair and pretend to be Mina. She thinks she’s found a secluded spot to, uh... relieve her building tensions.” He hesitated, then quickly added, “You don’t have to actually reenact that part.” The nervous chuckle that followed made me highly suspicious that he wouldn’t have minded at all if I did. “And then we’ll switch to Kieran’s point of view. I’ll storm in from the kitchen, acting as if I just can’t get you—I mean,Mina—out of my head. And then,” he continued, “I can use a teaching aid to, you know... help you visualize how he would go about... relieving his tensions.”

“A... teaching aid?”

“Yeah,” Devlin said, getting to his feet and disappearing into the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a banana in his hand. He held it up. “Teaching aid.”

To say I was disappointed is an understatement.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to scramble for the right words to ask Devlin if he would please consider just dropping his pants and fisting his cock in front of me again, because at that exact moment, the banana vanished with apop.

Devlin frowned, glancing around in confusion.

I, on the other hand, flicked my gaze up the stairs and immediately caught BooDini’s eye. I tipped my head in silent thanks before turning my attention back to Devlin, who had given up on locating the missing banana. Instead, he reached for the remote to the TV that had been stolen over a decade ago, only for his fingers to grasp at nothing as it disappeared into the ether.

A rapid-fire series ofpopsechoed through the cabin as everything with even the remotest resemblance to a phallic shape vanished one by one.

The finalpoprang out, and a box of tissues materialized on the coffee table beside my notebooks.

Devlin exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “I’m not much of a mime,” he muttered, shaking his head. “This is going to be difficult without something to hold on to.”

I sucked in a breath. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with it, I don’t mind if you... you know... actually do it.” Devlin’s bourbon eyes flicked toward me, unreadable. “I mean, I’ve already accidentally caught you, so, like, I’ve already seen—”Oh my Gods, stop talking.Mercifully, I managed to shut myself up before the verbal trainwreck could get any worse, finishing the disaster with a weak, “But, um, only if you’re comfortable with it.”

Devlin tilted his head, watching me for a moment. Then, with a small, knowing smirk, he said, “Jen, I’m an incubus demon. I’m comfortable with it. But only ifyou’recomfortable.”

“I’m comfortable with it,” I blurted, probably with way too much enthusiasm, and I had the painful realization that we had both severely overused the word comfortable in what was possibly the most uncomfortable conversation ever.

A beat of silence passed.

“Okay,” he said finally. “We’re both comfortable with it. I guess I’ll, erm... go into the kitchen and get into Kieran’s mindset.”

“And I will just”—I shot to my feet, sidestepping behind the armchair—“pretend to be Mina and hide behind this armchair until you’re ready.”

“Uh-huh,” Devlin murmured, eyeing me before awkwardly making his way into the kitchen.

As I hunkered down behind the armchair, deliberately thinking aboutanythingother than touching myself like Mina was supposed to, I heard the attic door squeak shut. BooDini,evidently not wanting to witness the results of its own meddling, had finally retreated.

A full three minutes passed in silence.

Without warning, Devlin stormed out of the kitchen so abruptly that I had to physically swallow back a yelp of surprise. His brows were furrowed deeply, his jaw tight with frustration as he stalked up and down the living room, pacing like a caged predator. With a sharp exhale, he dropped onto the couch so forcefully that it squeaked backward a few inches.

Devlin clamped his eyes shut, tilting his head back as he crossed his arms tightly over his stomach, letting out an exasperated breath through gritted teeth.

His entire body was wound tight, his knuckles white from how hard his fists were clenched, as if he knew that if he relaxed them, his hands would betray him—would seek the release he was desperately trying to resist.

Then, his stomach let out a loud, hollow growl. A thought flashed through my mind—Was Devlin actually... hungry?

But before I could dwell on it, all sensible thought left me.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Devlin’s fists unclenched, his control fracturing right in front of me. He exhaled sharply, as if trying to steady himself, but it did little to curb the raw tension radiating from him.

His fingers gripped the hem of his T-shirt, and before I could even process what was happening, he pulled it over his head and tossed it directly at me. The fabric landed on the armrest, mere inches from my face. And I couldn’t tell what was making my head spin more—the lingering sandalwood and spice scent clinging to the shirt, or the way every muscle in his now bare torso flexed with tension.

He leaned back again, placing a steadying hand on his belt, lingering there for just a moment, as if trying to convince himselfthat it wasn’t too late. That he still had the willpower to stop himself.

But he didn’t.

With a sharp flick, the belt buckle came undone, and he slid the leather free from his jeans, the sound of it snapping against itself making heat pulse low in my stomach.

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