Read Online Date With Death (Welcome To Hell) by Eve Langlais - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eve Langlais
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now, and with quite a few me n— and even one woman. Why had her phantom father not stepped forward before this to protest her choice of lovers? What had changed?
Mick. He was the key, obviously, since her life until now had been boring and uneventful. Then, she met Mick and next thing she knew, she was fighting off a demon, and Satan made his first visit, implying he’d return. The cloying stench of brimstone lingered as a reminder, and Marigold sighed. I’ll have to buy stronger air freshener if that’s going to become a habit of his. The idea of Satan coming for Sunday dinner finally had her giggling, and some of the tension eased in her.
But, what do I do next? The smart thing to do would be to forget Mick and get on with her life, thus avoiding visits from the lord of darkness and belated paternal threats.
However, Marigold didn’t enjoy taking the easy path. And besides, by going against what her father and Satan wanted, she got something she wante d— Mick. Who’s off sulking in Hell. I guess I’d better think of a way to get him back. After a shower,though, if she was going to make up with the ma n— er go d— who’d taken up residence in her mind, and she grudgingly admitted her heart, she needed to wash the body parts she’d use to gain forgiveness. And pleasure.
Chapter Eleven
Mictain jogged through Hellpark, weaving around the towering pillars of red rock that towered amidst the gnarly, almost leafless trees. He needed the mindless adrenaline of exercise to forget the events of the morning.
Bloody Lucifer. It’s his fault I’m sweating in Hell instead of naked on top of Marigold. Mictain didn’t give a fuck who Marigold’s father was. He needed he r— in his bed, in his arms, in his life because Felipe was right. He liked her. It was the only explanation for how quickly she’d already taken up residence in his heart.
How pathetic am I? A god worshipped in blood and lives, mooning over a witch who doesn’t want me. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d surrender that easily. He’d give her the space she seemed to want, but the war to gain her heart was far from over. He’d pay her a visit later once she’d had a chance to cool down, and hopefully, come to miss him. And if she’s still cranky, I’ll let my tongue talk to her other mouth until she cums around again and again.
His hellphone, strapped to his hip, beeped, signaling an incoming text message. Mictain ignored it, not in the mood to work today, the prerogative of a retired god who worked to dispel boredom and not because he had to. However, ignoring the message was apparently not an option because the damned phone went ballistic, beeping nonstop until Mictain stopped jogging and grabbed it to peer at its screen.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. With a curse, he popped out of Hades and appeared on the mortal plain atop a building rooftop. The sudden change in temperature made him shiver as his sweaty body cooled, but he ignored the chill as he strode across the concrete surface toward the woman perched on the edge, poised to jump.
“Get your ass down off that ledge,” he bellowed.
His shout startled Marigold and her arms windmilled wildly as she tried to keep her balance. In a heart-stopping flash, Mictain was at her side. He swept her off the precipice into the safety of his arms and hugged her tight.
Then he shook her. “What the fuck were you doing? Since when are you suicidal? Things aren’t that bad, dammit.”
“Hi,” she said, and then she grinned impishly him. “Thanks for answering my call.”
“What?” He stared at her with incomprehension for a moment before understanding dawned. “You mean you faked a suicide attempt just to get me back here?”
She nodded , and Mictain, his heart filling with happiness that she’d wanted him back, no matter her strange method, laughed. “How about I leave you a phone number so next time you can just call me?”
“How boring is that?” she teased, twining
Mick. He was the key, obviously, since her life until now had been boring and uneventful. Then, she met Mick and next thing she knew, she was fighting off a demon, and Satan made his first visit, implying he’d return. The cloying stench of brimstone lingered as a reminder, and Marigold sighed. I’ll have to buy stronger air freshener if that’s going to become a habit of his. The idea of Satan coming for Sunday dinner finally had her giggling, and some of the tension eased in her.
But, what do I do next? The smart thing to do would be to forget Mick and get on with her life, thus avoiding visits from the lord of darkness and belated paternal threats.
However, Marigold didn’t enjoy taking the easy path. And besides, by going against what her father and Satan wanted, she got something she wante d— Mick. Who’s off sulking in Hell. I guess I’d better think of a way to get him back. After a shower,though, if she was going to make up with the ma n— er go d— who’d taken up residence in her mind, and she grudgingly admitted her heart, she needed to wash the body parts she’d use to gain forgiveness. And pleasure.
Chapter Eleven
Mictain jogged through Hellpark, weaving around the towering pillars of red rock that towered amidst the gnarly, almost leafless trees. He needed the mindless adrenaline of exercise to forget the events of the morning.
Bloody Lucifer. It’s his fault I’m sweating in Hell instead of naked on top of Marigold. Mictain didn’t give a fuck who Marigold’s father was. He needed he r— in his bed, in his arms, in his life because Felipe was right. He liked her. It was the only explanation for how quickly she’d already taken up residence in his heart.
How pathetic am I? A god worshipped in blood and lives, mooning over a witch who doesn’t want me. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d surrender that easily. He’d give her the space she seemed to want, but the war to gain her heart was far from over. He’d pay her a visit later once she’d had a chance to cool down, and hopefully, come to miss him. And if she’s still cranky, I’ll let my tongue talk to her other mouth until she cums around again and again.
His hellphone, strapped to his hip, beeped, signaling an incoming text message. Mictain ignored it, not in the mood to work today, the prerogative of a retired god who worked to dispel boredom and not because he had to. However, ignoring the message was apparently not an option because the damned phone went ballistic, beeping nonstop until Mictain stopped jogging and grabbed it to peer at its screen.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. With a curse, he popped out of Hades and appeared on the mortal plain atop a building rooftop. The sudden change in temperature made him shiver as his sweaty body cooled, but he ignored the chill as he strode across the concrete surface toward the woman perched on the edge, poised to jump.
“Get your ass down off that ledge,” he bellowed.
His shout startled Marigold and her arms windmilled wildly as she tried to keep her balance. In a heart-stopping flash, Mictain was at her side. He swept her off the precipice into the safety of his arms and hugged her tight.
Then he shook her. “What the fuck were you doing? Since when are you suicidal? Things aren’t that bad, dammit.”
“Hi,” she said, and then she grinned impishly him. “Thanks for answering my call.”
“What?” He stared at her with incomprehension for a moment before understanding dawned. “You mean you faked a suicide attempt just to get me back here?”
She nodded , and Mictain, his heart filling with happiness that she’d wanted him back, no matter her strange method, laughed. “How about I leave you a phone number so next time you can just call me?”
“How boring is that?” she teased, twining
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