Foreplay Read online

  Foreplay

  Published by Jill Myles at Smashwords.

  Copyright 2010 by Jill Myles

  Art by http://km245.deviantart.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the author's permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

  Foreplay - A Succubus Diaries Prologue

  “We’ve decided to give the position to someone else.”

  I stared at my boss from behind the thick lenses of my glasses. The oversized frames had slid so far down my nose they were pinching my nostrils. Not that I could breathe anyway – not when my life was ending. I struggled to find the right words, but all that came out was a squeaky, “Beg pardon?”

  “The position has been filled.” At my blank look, Julianna added, “And not by you.”

  Hurt welled inside my chest, and I shoved my glasses up my nose. “I don't understand.” This was my job. I’d worked as a docent at this museum for two years with nary a raise, waiting for the right job to become open. And it had – Museum Coordinator. The position of my dreams – one that would let me run the museum as I’d always wanted to.

  Except that they’d overlooked me, even though I was the most qualified person in the museum to fill the job.

  “I do hope you won’t cause a scene about this, Jacqueline.” She looked down her long nose at me, frowning. “The committee had a very difficult decision to make, and it was not made lightly. There were more qualified people for the job. End of story.”

  “I see,” I began slowly. “They had bigger…degrees than I do?” After all, I had a masters in archaeological studies and was working on getting a bachelors in art history. Sort of.

  Julianna folded her hands and leaned forward on the desk. “If you must know, Jacqueline…while your academic pedigree is quite sufficient, there are other factors to consider in filling such a position.”

  Was that supposed to be a scolding? I was so hurt and depressed at the moment that I didn’t care. “So who got it, then?” I tugged on the jacket that was a little too tight across my front. I’d planned on getting better clothes when I’d gotten the promotion. No chance now. “Who got the Museum Coordinator job?”

  “That will be announced next week,” Julianna said in a sharp voice. “You can go now.”

  As I stood, tears welled in my eyes. I was not going to cry in front of Julianna. I was not going to do that. I pinched the inside of my wrist as I walked out so I wouldn’t burst into tears.

  Not going to cry in front of my nasty witch of a boss.

  Not going to do it. Not–

  As I left Julianna’s office, another woman stood up from her chair in the lobby. She wore a neat blue suit with a pencil-skirt and high, strappy heels. Her blonde hair was pulled into a shiny chignon and she wore a strand of pearls around her neck. She looked like she could be a member of White House staff, she was so polished looking…except she also held a portfolio in her hands, and was pulling out copies of her resume and the same orientation package I’d completed two years ago when I’d taken my stupid, crappy job as a museum docent.

  It was obvious who’d gotten the Museum Coordinator job.

  I tugged at my too-tight jacket and brushed a hand through my tangled brown curls. So I wasn’t as put together as this chick. I knew this job. It should have been mine!

  “Oh good, you’re here,” Julianna gushed behind me. “Come in, and let’s get the paperwork started.”

  This called for a drink.

  *~*~*~*~*

  “Another one, bartender.”

  I reached for my nearly empty martini-glass and knocked it over. Whoops. I held up one finger. “Just one more.”

  “You said that three martinis ago,” the bartender said, but left to get my drink. I peered at the rows of glasses in front of me. Sure enough, eight empty martini glasses sat on the bar. Perhaps it was time to stop drinking. I popped a cheese fry into my mouth. It was cold and soggy.

  “Last one. I’m serious, lady. You’ve had enough,” he said as he delivered the drink.

  For some reason, that irritated me. Not that he was cutting me off. That I was “lady.” Not “miss,” or even “young lady.” Like because I wasn’t pretty and eighteen, I wasn’t worthy of respect. Or pretty and blonde and wearing pearls. Or pretty, blonde, wearing pearls and a skirt I could barely walk in, going around and stealing other people’s jobs. Jerk. He was so getting a shitty tip. I swigged the rest of martini #9, ate the olive, and then set the glass down with a thump.

  Someone at the far end of the bar gave me an irritated look. I peered toward him. He wasn’t bad looking. About my age, messy hair, a bit skinny. Glasses. A little geeky looking. Other than the skinny thing, we could be soulmates. I smiled brightly in his direction, smoothing my rumpled blazer. Maybe I needed a man to distract me from the pain of losing the job of my dreams.

  Romeo took one look at me, recoiled, and turned away. Clearly he wasn’t into drunk geek girls. Story of my life – rejected by everyone.

  I scowled and pitched an empty martini glass at him. Who needed men, anyhow?

  “Hey,” yelled the bartender. “Time for you to leave, lady.”

  Again with the lady. I shot him the bird and slapped some money down on the counter, jerked my purse into my arms and staggered toward the door. I was wearing my only pair of cute black pumps from the meeting with Julianna, and with a few martinis in me, it was tricky to walk. Really tricky. I stumbled my way out the door and into the street. A car honked, whizzing by way too close. I stepped backward, head spinning, and scanned the crowded sidewalk. An empty alley cut through the block, dimly lit and car-free. Paradise! I headed for the shortcut back to the bus-stop.

  A small red light flared at the far end of the alley, near a street light on the other side. I gasped in delight, but it disappeared. As I watched, the light flared again, and I moved toward it, drawn. Pretty.

  It was a cigarette, the tip lighting red as the owner took a long pull from it. A shadowed man, leaning up against the wall, taking a smoke break. So much for my deserted alley. Disappointed, I scowled and stomped past him, not making eye contact. I could see a taxi waiting at the curb down the street, and began to dig into my purse for cash. Stupid man had ruined my alley.

  It appeared that digging-while-walking was one of those things that got impaired when one drank, though. My purse flew out of my hands and landed at the stranger’s feet.

  I giggled.

  He bent down to pick up my purse at the same time I did. His hands were faster than mine, and his balance was better, too. My head smacked against his and I recoiled, flying backward. The world tilted and I ended up flat on my back in the alley, with him standing over me, holding my purse.

  Head ringing, world spinning, I reached up for the purse. “Give me back my purse, thief!”

  A sardonic laugh echoed in the alley, bouncing off of the walls. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “That’s mine,” I slurred, struggling to sit up. “You can’t have it.”

  To my surprise, he offered me a hand, since I seemed incapable of getting up. I slapped his hand away and wobbled to my feet on my own, clutching a nearby Dumpster to help pull myself up. Once I was standing, I reached out for my purse.

  He didn’t give it to me. Instead, he got very still. The cigarette fell to the ground. “I’ll be damned.”

  “What?” I made a swipe for my purse, but missed again. The world spun around once more, and I decided to sit down, right in the middle of the alley. Thi
s was really too much for a drunk woman to handle.

  He knelt beside me, grabbing my chin and forcing it up so I could look him in the eye. I could have sworn his gleamed red as he stared down at me. Way, wayyyy too many martinis.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Let me go.”

  He examined my face for far too long, saying nothing.

  After a few moments more, I tried to slap his hand away. “Give me my purse or I’m going to call for the cops.”

  “And be arrested for public intoxication? Be my guest.” He released my chin.

  That made me pause. Okay, maybe not the cops. “I’m going to call…”

  In the time it took for me to consider, he had me up on my feet and was helping me dust off. At least, I thought he was helping me brush off my clothes. When his hand went around my waist, I began to get suspicious. And when he dipped me low, pulling me against him, I pressed a hand against his chest. The world spun dizzily. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a voice that implied that he was anything but. “You remind me of someone…and I’m afraid that’s going to be your undoing. I hope you’ll forgive me someday.” He leaned in.

  I shoved my fist against his cheek. What was he talking about? Why was he leaning in to kiss me?

  Except it wasn’t a kiss. When he hauled me against him, his mouth went to my throat. I barely had a chance to protest before

  His mouth burned hot against my neck, and there was a sharp sensation, like a bite. Except that was stupid, because what kind of man bites drunk women in an alley? The sensation passed within seconds, leaving a wave of sensations that I could only describe as…orgasmic.

  My toes curled in my shoes, calves clenching, and my arms wrapped around him as he continued to suck at my throat, the bite-induced orgasm rolling through me. Holy jeez! I didn’t know if I wanted him to stop or keep going – not that I could stop him. I gasped – I might have sobbed a little.

  I probably even blacked out.

  The next thing I knew, dawn was threading the sky as I stared up, wondering where the evening had gone. The dark stranger was helping me to my feet and straightening the collar of my jacket. I stared at him dizzily, my body still throbbing with want and need. My knees felt weak. “What…”

  “All part of the plan, Princess.” He looked at my shirt, then unbuttoned it down to my bra, exposing my pathetic cleavage. “Want to go visit an old friend? Say yes.”

  “Yes?” I mumbled, still dazed and completely out of it. I needed to lean against something…or sit down. Something. My body wasn’t working properly. All the bones had been sucked out by his mouth.

  “Come on,” he said, and I let him pull me along.

  The world began to blur after that. I had no idea how many streets we’d wandered down, or what time it was. My feet should have hurt, but I didn’t feel them. My neck still tingled with his strange biting kiss, and the world had receded into a very pleasurable fog. So pleasurable that anything that brushed against my skin caused me to quiver with erotic excitement, and my pulse pounded low in my hips.

  “We’re here,” the stranger whispered in my ear.

  I couldn't seem to shake the sensual fog off of my brain. Here where? I was standing on the sidewalk, the wind brushing against my heated skin. Through large glass windows I saw a bar, nearly empty. It was totally swanky, with gilt edging on all the furniture and soft lighting. A large guy sat at the far end of the bar with his back to the window I currently peered through.

  “See that man?” my new friend whispered. “He wants to kiss you.”

  He did? I pressed my face against the glass, trying to get a better look at him. Just the thought of a strange man wanting to kiss me made my body tremble with a strange lust. The guy at the other bar hadn’t wanted me…but this one did? Through the fog in my head, that seemed like a good idea. I headed for the door.

  “Wait,” said my friend, grabbing my hand. “Before I let you go…promise that you’ll come back and see me tonight.”

  I stared at him, uncomprehending. “Tonight?”

  “If my luck goes as planned, you’ll be spending the day with that guy there.” He stroked my face, then fixed my messy curls, as if doting on a prized doll. “It’s fate, Princess. For you to run across my path tonight, and for it to be that particular night for him – these things don’t happen by chance.” His hand gripped my shoulder, almost desperately. “We’ll see what comes of this. And you’ll come back to see me tonight…if you want your purse back.”

  He held up my black and pink handbag.

  “Hey,” I began to protest.

  He lifted a finger to his lips, silencing me. “I’ll give it back. Just meet me tonight once you’re done with him, and we’ll finish our business together.” With that, he more or less shoved me into the bar.

  I stumbled into the darkness. This must have been one of those all night bars, because it was a lot darker in here than it was outside. But I liked the dark. It made me feel…naughty. Actually, I felt naughty anyhow. My entire body throbbed with some sort of strange need. My skin felt tense, limbs aching. Head was still foggy, alas.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender asked, giving me a skeptical look. Given that it was so early in the morning, he was probably checking to see if I was drunk or not. I certainly was. Way, way drunk.

  “A martini. Dry,” I said, surprised at how clear my voice sounded. That was odd, given that the fog in my brain wouldn’t go away. Maybe the fog was from something other than alcohol? I took the martini from the bartender and picked out the olive, as was my habit. It rolled against my tongue in an almost sensual manner, and I made a small noise of delight in my throat.

  The bartender stared at me.

  Okay, I was acting weird. But for some reason, the part of my brain that usually cared had turned off. I simply gave him a teasing smile and downed the drink. So good. So cold. I needed another. The heat in me didn’t seem to be slowing down.

  "Another?” The bartender gave me a smile and took the glass away.

  How many more drinks could I afford? I reached for my purse to pull out my wallet – drat. The other guy still had it. I paused, stricken despite the fog in my head.

  “May I?”

  A rich, mellow voice touched my ears, and I looked up to stare into the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen. He was a blond god – tall, tanned, with a hint of a smile playing on his mouth. I smiled back at him, and the fog in my head seemed to clear the way for something else – lust.

  My gaze slipped to his mouth and I licked my lips.

  He pulled out some money and tossed it on the bar, signaling the bartender to refill our drinks. Another martini glass was placed in front of me, but I barely glanced at it. Staring at the hot guy in front of me made the hot, aching throbbing in my body feel a little better , better than the martini had.

  “I’m Noah,” he said by way of introduction, and gave me a charming smile. He really did have the bluest eyes. I found them almost hypnotic. “You look like you’ve been here all night, but I don’t recall seeing you. What makes a pretty girl hang out in a bar at five in the morning on a Monday?”

  “I got passed over for a promotion,” I began, then shook my head. My clothes felt tight, and I ran my hands down my front. His gaze slid to my gaping collar. “That’s why I went out drinking. But I came to this bar for you.”

  He gave me a polite but puzzled smile. “I see–”

  The smile did me in. With the fog and my blood singing in my veins, I got up from my chair and crossed the two feet between us to plant my lips on his. God, he tasted good. His mouth was warm and tasted faintly of coffee laced with rum. My hands wrapped in his hair and I continued to kiss him hungrily, the singing in my veins demanding more. When his hands slid around my waist and he began to kiss me back, I moved onto his lap, straddling him over the barstool.

  Somewhere, in the back of the fog, the bartender cleared his throat.

  “Sorry,” Noah said, pu
lling away from my hungry mouth. I began to lick along his jaw line instead. “I think we’re leaving,” he told the bartender. I wasn’t paying much attention. He tasted so good – I wanted to put my mouth on him everywhere.

  “I'm calling you a cab, miss,” he said. “You don’t seem to have your purse with you.”

  When he tried to put me in the cab's backseat, I clung to Noah’s front, pulling him down on top of me.

  He chuckled in my ear, the sound making my hips rise in anticipation. “Don’t want to leave?”

  “No,” I said, kissing his mouth again. “Can we go back to your room?” The thought made my body explode with desire. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

  He glanced over at the cab driver. Then, he looked back at me. “Do you want to go back to my room?”

  “I want you,” I said. Both me and the fog did. “I’m not drunk. I just want you.”

  “Well then,” he said, his blue eyes flaring. He pulled me out of the cab and his hand cupped my ass. “Can I get your name?”

  *~*~*~*~*

  Though the fog didn’t leave my mind, I was distracted enough that it didn’t matter. Noah and I made love for hours. On the bed. On the floor. In the shower once, I was pretty sure, but it was hard to tell. The burning desire that had made me throw myself at him didn’t seem to be going away: no matter how many times we had sex, I couldn’t quench the hunger burning inside of me. We finally passed out at some point, with me collapsing on top of him.

  I woke a few hours later, ice cold. I was still spread atop Noah, who was passed out underneath me. The fog had returned, stronger than ever. In a haze, I began to dress. Shirt. Skirt. Shoes. Bra. I couldn’t find my underpants or my pantyhose, so I left them behind. I wanted to wake Noah, but the fog in my mind wouldn’t let me think. All I could focus on was how cold the room was. I tried to rub my arms, but my limbs were sluggish.

  I was supposed to meet the other guy, wasn’t I? remembered someone holding up my purse and telling me that I would get it back when I met him again. I stumbled out of Noah’s room and down the elevator into the lobby. No stranger, no purse. I wandered into the street and stumbled – my shoes, which had been difficult to walk in last night, were almost impossible now. My feet felt numb, like blocks of ice. Something was wrong with me, but the fog in my head wouldn’t process what it was. Unsure where to go, I stumbled into the alley behind the hotel. An alley was where I’d met him before…