“Let’s go.” After all, she had a futon. After an hour on that uncomfortable contraption, Rafe would be begging to leave.
Then again, did she really want him to?
Chapter 5
He didn’t sleep.
He sat ramrod straight in her dilapidated La-Z-Boy. It was a hand-me-down and her favorite chair. Lucy couldn’t believe her mom wanted to toss it. So what if it only opened halfway and the maroon upholstery was way beyond repairable. Leave it to an arrogant wannabe demon to steal it.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” she asked as she plopped onto the wrought iron futon. The chest beckoned her from the middle of the living room. Her fingers itched to touch it—open it.
Rafe scraped his fingers through his gorgeous locks. Need help? she asked to herself.
“I don’t need to sleep.” He reached down to the lever and pulled.
Impressive! A demon who knew how to operate an easy chair. “It only opens halfway.”
Halfway between open and closed, Rafe shrugged and pulled back the lever. “These chairs are supposed to be comfortable.”
“It is to me. Wanna trade?”
Rafe narrowed his gaze. “No, thank you.”
“That’s too bad. You can do some great tricks on this futon.” She leaned against the back, pressing her chest forward. Her toes traced along the seat cushion. Was she coming on to him? It sure felt like it. Running her fingers through her hair, she threw back her head and sighed contentedly.
Rafe’s eyes sparked. “You’re coming into your time. You have to feed.”
“Can’t you feed me?” Her body throbbed and her heart thudded. Thank goodness Serah was conked out in the bedroom. This whole thing, despite the surrealism, scared Lucy. Heat seared through her as she gritted her teeth. She was alive, hungry, and needy. What was going on? “Please?”
Licking her lips, she crawled along the rose-hued, pancake-thin cushion and leaned over the futon to lock gazes. Rafe returned the gaze, his silver eyes glowing like the moon on a clear night. She smiled and batted her eyelashes like a little puppy begging for food. But she didn’t want food. She wanted something else. She reached out her hand, her fingers longing to run through his hair. “So do I need permission? Since I’m a sex demon and all?”
“Depends on the reason for the touch.”
Rafe reached out and, without a blink of an eye, grabbed her wrist and held firm. His eyes flickered like giant diamonds. Never had she seen eyes so silvery and bright. Heat crackled through her body, radiating from where he held her. If demon energy didn’t affect her, she’d be a monkey’s uncle. If they really were demons, that is. After all, didn’t demons have horns and tails? She scrunched her brow in frustration.
“Lucia,” Rafe said, his voice soft and soothing. “I know this is all foreign to you, but you need to cooperate.” His gaze remained fixed and intense, showing not even a drop of warmth. He might be certifiable, but he was a serious, brooding, drop dead sexy nutcase. Just her luck!
She extracted her wrist from Rafe’s loosening grip. “Yeah, just a little foreign,” she replied with a snide grin. “So you just expect me to accept this? Sorry, Charlie. Things don’t work that way for me.” She turned her head toward the closed bedroom door down the hallway. “If you’re trying to take advantage of someone, you’re talking to the wrong girl.” Not that Serah was naïve, but she was more accepting of the occult and that voodoo hoodoo. Lucy grinned, recalling the one time Serah convinced her to use a Ouija board. The only words that came from the great beyond were the words “Happy Birthday, bitch.” Ha!
“Serah isn’t the demon. You are.” Rafe rubbed his chin and attempted to change his position in the chair. “In time, you’ll see.”
Lucy leaned against the rigid cushion of the futon. “Sure I will.” Tucking her legs beneath her, she sighed. Yeah, she knew something weird was happening. What’s not to say it