Wicked Game

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Authors: Bethan Tear
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on hers. Despite his insufferable arrogance and crude remarks there was an allure to him that she couldn't deny, and as much as she tried to distract herself from thinking about him she could think of little else during the drive to work. It wasn't every young receptionist that had a drop dead demon hunk skulking around her bedroom, watching her while she slept, sending her kinky dreams, determined to have her. What would her colleagues say if they discovered she had invoked the black arts just to get a boyfriend? What would they say if she confessed that it had actually worked and he was here, in the flesh, in her house, looking at her like she was lunch?
                  She kept the secret to herself as she made coffee and delivered messages, minding her own business and going about her duties without much thought or dedicated behind them. She usually enjoyed her job but today it was more of a hindrance and she found herself daydreaming, curious about what Kaden was doing to amuse himself in her absence. Had he spent much time alone in the human world? Did he know how to work a TV, or a computer, or a microwave? She had visions of him accidentally setting the house alight, fire eating away his clothes, leaving him wearing nothing except that sultry smile.
                  And what of the women before her, the ones that hadn't been able to resist him? How did she compare to them? Could she compare to them?
                  “Penny for your thoughts.”
                  She glanced up from a transcript she'd been typing, dismayed, but instead of Kaden's perfect face and disdainful dark eyes she saw her boss dressed immaculately in a stylish, thousand dollar suit, ready for a business meeting with the board of directors.               As bosses went Mr Thompson was fair and reasonable, so long as his staff were respectful and reliable. He didn't tolerate tardiness, idleness or discord amongst the staff. She knew she had been flagging today and was about to pay the price.
                  “Sorry sir, I'm a bit tired...I haven't been sleeping well recently...I've been having bad dreams,” she admitted, not going into any detail. The recent dream was still disturbingly fresh in her mind, so vivid, and it was all she could do not to blush at memory of it.
                  He waved his hand dismissively.
                  “That's not what I'm here about,” he said and then he seemed to hesitate, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, unable to look her in the eye, “I was wondering...if...what with it being Valentine’s Day tomorrow if...well...if...”
                  Hazelle stared at him, aghast. He was at least twenty years her senior, if not more, with two kids in college and a recent divorce settlement that had been highly publicised in all the papers. And then there was Kaden, the whimsical, charismatic, sexy incubus. He didn't seem like the jealous type, though she still she dreaded to think how he would react when he learnt she had been asked out by another man.
                  “...if I could take your mother out?”
                  “Oh,” Hazelle said slowly, stunned and humbled. Kaden had made her so much more paranoid.
                  “I just thought...seeing as we are both unmarried and about the same age...and she is beautiful.”
                  There was a slight redness to Mr Thompson's cheeks. Hazelle had never thought to see him shy.
                  “I don't think she has any plans for Valentine’s Day. I got the impression things had cooled off between her and the guy she was seeing. I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to give her a call.”
                  Hazelle jotted down her mother's cellphone number on a scrap of paper, thinking it might actually be a good idea for her to try dating someone her own age. Mr Thompson

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