Page 63 of Shifting Hearts 1
“Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.” The saleswoman giggled.
He’s a demon!Seraphina chastised herself after getting lost in his looks.
“It’s just a job,” she grunted.
“Calm down, Seraphina. It’s okay.” Mara placed a hand on her sister’s arm.
The angel flushed in embarrassment as Mara’s touch was a comforting anchor to bring her back to herself. She met her honeyed gaze for a moment and smiled softly. The saleswoman, oblivious to their exchange, droned on about her fantasies. Seraphina wondered how many new emotions she had yet to experience as she had much to learn.
The saleswoman led them to a changing area in the rear of the store. She pulled a full rack of clothing with her and handed Seraphina three outfits to start with.
She turned away from the mirror as she slowly peeled off her clothing. Seraphina quickly spun around as she felt Jas’s eyes on her, except there was no one there. She was alone in the dressing room and caught a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror. Her pale skin was blemished by too many freckles to count. Her shiny hair was mused by changing, but quickly settled into flawless waves once more.
Vanity was a sin, but she lost to the temptation. She brushed her fingertips across her collarbone, causing goosebumps to rise. Her nipples puckered as she caressed her breasts. As she turned sideways, the definition of her waist to hips and rounded ass became sharp.
Was she gorgeous like the saleswoman said? All celestials were beautiful in their own way. They didn’t compete or comment on each other's outer looks. Inner beauty was deemed the most important trait.
She forced herself away from the mirror and chose the first outfit on the hanger. The sheer low cut blouse showed ample cleavage despite the slip beneath, while the short pencil skirt clung to her hips and curve of her ass.
“Oh my,” she gasped.
“I want to see Seraphina!” Mara called through the door. “If it got that kind of reaction out of you, I bet it’s the one to make an impression.”
Seraphina cautiously stepped out of the changing room. Mara whistled and held up a finger, twisting it, indicating she should turn. She obliged.
“That’s perfect. Here slip these on.”
Mara handed her a pair of shiny black pumps. Seraphina was a little wobbly on them as she’d never worn heels before. The saleswoman nodded in approval.
“You look stunning.”
“Shouldn’t I dress modestly?”
“Don’t be silly,” Mara cajoled. “You’ll drive Jas Conrad mad knowing he can look but not touch.”
The saleswoman nodded. “Any man will be eating out of your palm and falling to his knees in no time.”
“Doesn’t this send the wrong message?”
“You have much to learn, little angel.” Mara sighed.
TWO
Jas
Jasper Conrad died at thirty-six. He was a ghost of the man he once was. His line still existed, and for six generations, he’d been called Jasper Conrad Jr. His business transferred from ‘father’ to ‘son,’ after the elder Conrad met his demise shortly after his son took over the reins of the family business.
He’d died multiple deaths. After Conrad passed away from pneumonia, a bastard son appeared to take control of his taverns before meeting an untimely death by murder. His son was lost at sea. Then, he died in a small plane crash, the corpse was unidentifiable, but you’d be surprised what money could buy. The man who’d taken his place on board was unclaimed, therefore he received a prestigious burial he would never be afforded otherwise. Dental records confirmed the identity.
Conrad grew bored of the same routine and decided to shake things up this lifetime; starting with changing his image and calling himself Jas. He was older than most playboy billionaires who viewed their cocks as toys in their hands. He owned several sports cars, a pro football team, and even a private island, as he’daccumulated more wealth than he could ever spend. One of the joys of being single over several lifetimes, there was no one to spoil his billions.
He was no longer focused on business ambitions and altruism wasn’t in his nature. He tossed the quarterly report aside, not caring what the financial documents read as long as they showed growth. After hundreds of years chasing every carnal pleasure imaginable, very little made him feel alive. One of the things he enjoyed was perverse power play, not just taking control, but humiliating those beneath him.
He knew nothing about the girl as he waited impatiently for the seconds to tick by. The caged beast within grew restless as the soulless predator waited for unsuspecting prey. He never cared what happened to those he left desolate after he was done toying with and breaking them.
A deliciously twisted fantasy played out in his mind. He could almost hear her quivering heart as he imagined her naked form chained to his desk. The metal chain rattled as she writhed against the mahogany. She squealed as he drew his fang against the milky skin of her thigh. He licked the beaded blood, tasting the delicious tin on his tongue before he dipped the tip of his quill into the wound. She screamed as he coated the utensil in her blood before signing his paperwork.
He ran his tongue along his teeth as his fangs descended. He was caught off guard by the strength of his feral desire when he hadn’t even met her yet. Yet, he couldn’t get past the idea of chaining her to his desk.
