Page 36 of Obsession

Damion: When you admit you’re my possession.

Yeah, not happening.

“Morning,” I say, joining my aunt in the kitchen. “Any word from Craig?” I ask quietly.

“Mama’s already gone. You don’t have to whisper. No, but I blocked his number,” she says, washing a head of kale under the faucet.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to report what happened yesterday?”

“I’m sure. I felt the magic work,” she says, and then she turns on her juicer. She begins running kale leaves through it, and that’s my cue to head downstairs, lest she try to talk me into another juice cleanse. Nothing magic about kale juice.

I open the shop and get a call from my stockbroker. Mama took out a life insurance policy on herself, and when she died, Grandma held that money for me in trust until I turned eighteen. My advisor informs me some of my stocks are trading high, and I give the go-ahead to sell. “Happy dance, Elvis!” I exclaim. “Here’s the nest money for my new apartment. Thank you, Universe.” Elvis gives me a less than enthused look in response.

Later that evening, I’m putting the finishing touches on my makeup, playing up my blue eyes. I’ve curled my golden-brown hair and left it down in loose waves and am wearing a new black cocktail dress that magically appeared in my closet.

Damion materializes behind me and I have to stifle a scream. “Knock and announce,” I say, clutching my heart. “Seriously, do I need to ward the apartment?”

“I’ve already warded the apartment,” he says, kissing a trail down my exposed back, causing my skin to pebble.

“You didn’t ask me if you could ward the apartment,” I say tartly.

“Is it okay if I ward the apartment?”

“Well, it’s too late now!” I throw my hands up in exasperation.

“Then that’s settled.” Yep, that’s a demon lawyer for ya. “Obviously, I’m not going to ward myself out—I need access to my possession.”

“Still not your possession,” I say with crossed arms and a cross look for him in the mirror.

“Still not the Mystery Gang,” he smiles smugly.

Seeing we’re at an impasse, I change the subject. “Thank you for my dress.”

“I do have excellent taste,” he says playfully, running his tongue down my back, my knees in danger of buckling. “Mmmm, tastes like vanilla.”

“Ha ha,” I try to say with attitude, but it comes out way too breathy. Spinning around, I drop to my knees in front of him, stroking his hard cock through his suit pants. “So why not let me taste a different flavor?” I look up at him as I kiss that impressive bulge and he groans, fisting his hand in my hair.

His phone chimes. “Damn,” he grits. Pulling me up to stand, he adjusts himself. “To be continued,” he promises seductively.

“We’ll see. If you play your cards right.”

“I always play my cards right,” he warns, taking my hand as we exit the apartment. After a text to Zazel, we’re whisked away to his Chicago apartment.

As much as I love you fondling me, you will need to remove your hands in order for us to eat dinner.

That’s you playing your cards right? I mentally snort, jerking my hands away from his abs; he laughs in my mind.

I’ve visited Zazel’s apartment once before, back when Damion was in residency, so to speak. The penthouse is all sleek and modern lines, with a stunning skyline view from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Damion’s father is relaxed on a black leather couch, and perched on his lap is a woman—not the same woman from the housewarming party, but that’s no surprise. Zazel made it clear he’s an incubus, and tigers don't lose their stripes. He introduces us to his companion, who is just leaving. One thing I’ve learned about the Arbitrator—he never mixes business with pleasure.

Zazel greets me with a kiss on both my cheeks. I’ve never been hit with a stun gun, but I’d imagine that’s what it feels like on the lowest power setting. “How’s my favorite white witch?” he asks in that unbelievably sexy voice of his.

“I’m good, thank you,” I say, shielding my aura. I think Zazel mutes his powers around me, but I like to play it safe.

“My son, and how is my favorite Cambion?”

“I’m well, Father.” They do the manly half hug, half back thump.

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