countered.
«A string,» Paris said, then nodded as if confirming his own genius. «And by the way, I get first pick since I rounded ’em up and brought ’em here, and I call dibs on the topless one.»
«Where’d you get ’em, anyway?» Strider asked. Funny. His own words were slurred.
«Strip club downtown,» Paris replied, finishing off his latest bottle of jack. «Throw enough money around and you can have anything you want. Except, maybe, fried Twinkies. I can’t find those anywhere.»
William tapped two fingers against his chin. «You had any of ’em before?»
«Fried Twinkies?» Paris nodded. «Only once, but I’ve never forgotten the experience. It’s like heaven in your mouth, man.»
«Fried— Paris, you dumb bastard.» Exasperated, William shook his head. «I meant the women.»
Exasperated himself, Paris splayed his arms. «How would I know whether or not the women have had a fried Twinkie? I only just met them.»
«Dear gods.» William pinched the bridge of his nose. «Have you. Slept with. One of. The women. Before?»
«Oh. Sure, I have. And shit. Why didn’t you say that to begin with?»
«Finally,» William said. «We get somewhere. Who?»
Because of his straight-up awesome demon, Paris couldn’t screw the same woman twice. Sure, he weakened unbearably if he failed to roll around in the sheets at least once a day, but that was a small price to pay for unlimited nookie.
«Like I remember,» Paris replied.
«Your cock always remembers.»
«Well, we’re currently not speaking, so…»
«And we come to yet another dead end.» William’s sigh was somehow as wry as his tone. «You’re just gonna have to take who I give you and deal.»
«Like anyone would pick you over me.»
William blustered over the insult. «You just wait and see. I’ll have every single one of them eating out of my hand.»
«Only if you find one of those delicious fried Twinkies,» Paris snapped.
Strider rolled his eyes. Egotistical morons. Anyone with a set of eyes could see that Strider was the pretty one in their little threesome.
His demon immediately recognized the challenge and stretched, gearing up to do whatever was necessary to ensure that statement was true.
«Hey, William,» a beautiful blonde frolicking in the water called. «You said you wanted to taste me when I got wet. Well, I’m very,
«You’re not quite wet enough, honey bun. Keep playing, and I’ll let you know when you’re ready.»
For all his own dib-calling the past few hours, William hadn’t touched a single female yet. Strider had, though. He’d already taken the one with blue streaks in her sandy-colored hair upstairs. For forty-five minutes he’d unleashed his sexual needs on her willing body, making her moan and scream and writhe. He’d even made her beg.
Clearly, he’d been the best she’d ever had. Not that he’d ever doubted that would be the case. Not that he’d waited several minutes after the loving was done, tense, expecting to double over in pain since he hadn’t laid his patented moves on her, had just acted on need.
When he and Defeat had realized they could add another name to their ever-growing list of completely satisfied females — not that they remembered any of the names— Strider should have shot right into another climax. But the rush of victory hadn’t done anything for him. He hadn’t felt any better about his situation. He might even have felt worse. Like, hollowed out or something.
The girl had fallen asleep immediately afterward, thank the gods, because if she’d tried to talk to him, he would seriously have cut off his ears. Sex, good. Conversation, bad. He should have let her rest, but he hadn’t trusted her enough to leave her unattended, so he’d carted her back outside and placed her on a lounge — on the opposite side of the pool, where she was still sleeping. A guy couldn’t be too careful.
Still. She hadn’t been a challenge, not in any way, really, and he’d liked that. Liked being able to relax. With Ex, the challenge would
Not that he gave a shit about that now. He just wanted to take the easy road, damn it. He deserved the easy road for once. Even though he was learning the easy road sucked.
«Why don’t you join us, Paris?» a brunette called silkily, dragging Strider’s mind back to the party. She sat at the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the crystalline water. She nibbled on her bottom lip as she swirled a finger over one of her bared nipples. «I’ve wanted to get my hands on you ever since you first said hi to me.»
A few others sighed dreamily, as if remembering that very thing. As if Paris’s «hi» was the most stimulating conversation they’d ever had the privilege of enjoying.
«I’ve been watching you all this time,» Paris responded in a rumbling purr, «and as you can guess, I’m practically on fire to have you. But I gotta get myself under control before I can trust myself to even kiss you.»
The girls giggled.
Such a smooth talker Paris was, flattering without hurting a single feeling, yet doing exactly as he desired. Staying just where he was without inviting anyone over. But his desires were stupid, Strider thought. Did Paris want to spend the night alone and untouched?
And what the fuck, man. Was Strider dog food? Where was his shout-out? Where was his «come over here and play with me?» Or maybe they thought he only wanted the sandy-haired wench. Well, he wanted the topless one.
The demon replied with more humming. Meaning, hell no.
Her eyes widened with pleasure. «Me?»
She was slightly older than the others, putting her in her early thirties, with black hair and green eyes. He kinda wished she were a blonde, but she had a few tattoos scattered across her back — birds rather than words and faces, not that he cared — so he figured she would do. Not that he was particular or anything, or going for a specific type. He just knew what he wanted, and there was nothing wrong with that.
«Yeah. You. C’mere, honey,» he said, crooking that finger and motioning her over.
She giggled and jumped to a stand. Several of the other girls threw her jealous scowls as she closed the distance and plopped onto his lap, and he nodded in satisfaction. Now that was more like it.
Defeat quieted, happy with the win but bored by the ease of it.
Strider sighed. Earlier, this female had taken a dip in the water, and her gold-foil bathing suit was still damp. She fit her ass right over his semi-erect penis and leaned back, stretching out against him. Her large — really large — breasts jutted up, her nipples beaded underneath the fabric of the suit, and she squirmed against him, trying to rub him into full arousal.
Suddenly he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to be rubbed — or talked to. Damn his irresistible sexual magnetism.
«Easy now,» he told her, gripping her hips to ensure she slowed down. «I need a few minutes to recover from the excitement of having you here.»
Thankfully, she stilled. She twisted just a little, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. «Want me to
