Whoever You Want to Be
Warning: The following story contains explicit sex, explicit violence, explicit shaming of slut-shamers, profanity, nudity, reckless use of illegal weaponry, cheap Halloween costumes, hipsters, police, personal calls while on duty, arson, destruction of public property, lingerie, war criminals, murder, assault with a deadly weapon, break-up text messaging, lesbian demon seduction, poor workplace morale, premarital sex, oral sex, public sex, solo sex, reverse cowgirl sex, sex under false pretenses, sex with malevolent intent, immolation, false identification, ruthless exploitation of personal beauty, unsafe crowd control standards, stereotypical Seattle passive-aggression, vertigo, destruction of evidence, racism (don't worry, he dies), workplace scapegoating, wholly proper use of a detachable showerhead and girl-on-girl grenade fighting.
Readers quick to call women sluts or whores for engaging in sexual relations with more than one male partner over the course of a story are invited to read something else.
*
The shower revived him, but not enough. He should have slept more last night. He should have put Serena off. Most guys would think it crazy to turn such hot sex down for any reason, and Jack would generally be inclined to agree, but things had been like this for the last few nights.
He almost fell asleep while shaving in the bathroom mirror. He cut himself twice. The second time he hardly even noticed, except the blood dribbled down his thick wrist and marred his "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" tattoo. Jack stared down at it with red, blurry eyes and wiped the blood away.
He kept shaving. He had to make this meeting. What he would tell the assholes from State, he hadn't actually decided. Maybe he'd tell them the truth. He already had immunity. But then again, maybe he'd just decide, fuck those guys, we didn't do anything wrong. Lethal force was always part of the tool bag; Uncle Sam knew that when he hired Jack's company. Hell, once upon a time, the government approved. The brats probably just would've grown up to blow up some bus stop in Israel or something, anyway, he thought. And their mother was probably just a whore.
Fuck their investigation. His company was paid to do a job, and they did it. They kept their client secure and safe—maybe pissing his pants, but safe. What more did they want?
Jack kept shaving away his blond stubble. His eyes drifted to the "big red 1" tattooed on his muscular left shoulder, leading his thoughts back to the Army and days when he'd seen the world in brighter colors. Once more, Jack reconsidered. He had immunity. People just wanted closure. The guys from State were just trying to do their jobs. Maybe he should just spill and let them close this whole case?
They couldn't get him on shooting the Arabs. Couldn't get any of his fellow contractors. Could they get him on anything else? Maybe he should talk?
He was tired. Really tired, though in a good way. He certainly couldn't complain.
Finished with shaving, Jack washed his face one more time and stepped out into his bedroom wearing only a towel, his battle scars and his tattoos. His suit was laid out on the bed.
So was Serena.
"Baby, do you have to go yet?" she asked. The black bed sheet only covered her crotch and the hand that she had over it. He could see her hand move under the sheet, between her slender, inviting legs. Jack's eyes drifted up to her full, enticing breasts and the black hair that cascaded down her naked shoulders. Serena looked at him, grinning like she knew already knew she would win this round.
"Christ, there's something wrong with you," Jack huffed, shaking his head. He looked down at his suit. Everything was there except his boxers. Where were his boxers?
"Yeah, there's something wrong with me," replied Serena in a voice that could make a porn star blush. "I'm empty inside. I need you to fill me."
Once again, Jack went to war, only this time it was entirely internal. Turning her down seemed insane. It should also be reasonable at this point. Hadn't they fucked all night already—like, literally all night? She clearly liked his money and his luxury apartment. She knew how he made his money, and he'd already explained to her how important this meeting was in ensuring he could make more.
He looked her up and down again: the legs, that sweet spot between them, those tits, those eyes. She felt so good. Making her come felt so good.
"You don't wanna leave me," the beauty smiled. She lifted one leg and pointed with her toes at the tent formed by Jack's rising cock. She could get him up like nobody else he'd ever been with. It was a talent. Like magic.
And now he was up and ready, and wasting it seemed foolish. "Serena, I gotta go do this," Jack reminded her, trying to be assertive. She liked it when he was assertive. Liked it when he pulled her hair. Made her moan. All that... Wait. No. Stop thinking that shit, he told himself. "I don't show up to this meeting, they'll subpoena my ass."
"So let 'em," Serena pouted. "Won't change what you have to say. Or not say. Fuck 'em, right?" Her lopsided grin returned. "Or better yet, fuck me."
He took a deep breath. He loved it when she talked dirty, and she knew it all too well. "When I get back."
"C'mon, baby," she said, beckoning him with one hand while the other continued to toy with her flesh under the sheet. "You don't even need to warm me up." Her voice dropped and her words slowed enticingly. "We can be quick. Just for fun. You can fuck me, and when you're at your meeting with all those assholes, you can think about how you're the only guy there whose dick still smells like pussy... my pussy... you can ask yourself if any of them just got laid, or if they ever got any ass as hot as what you have waiting for you at home."
She knew just how to make him forget his fatigue. Hot sex, no lengthy foreplay, just get in and get off and bail until later. Every guy's dream, right?
Serena pointed at his groin with her foot again. "Somebody looks ready to me," she taunted him. "If you don't, you know you'll be sorry."
Jack snatched up her foot. "You're right," he said, and pulled her toward him on the bed. He took up her other leg, too, and spread them around his hips as his towel fell to the floor. The sensation of his cock sliding up against her warm and wet lips electrified him enough to banish his concerns of fatigue. God, she really is ready.
"That's my man," she said, her lip curling with animal lust. "My big, strong killer. Take me, baby. Take—nnh! Yeah!" Serena grunted as he lined up and thrust into her, taking every advantage of her readiness. She played her role to the hilt, displaying her naked beauty for him while he pushed into her again and again. Her breath grew audible, hitting notes of passion and surrender.
She knew just how he liked it, and how to keep him from going anywhere. She knew how to get him off, and how to keep his full attention, and how to wear him down.
Jack would never make his meeting, or any other, ever again.
* * *
"It's not that I enjoy falling down the stairs, you know. It's just that I like to see you nice young people. But the fall does get me down to the ground floor faster."
Shannon allowed a brief smile at the old man's joke as the blood pressure pump on his arm came to full inflation. She slipped the diaphragm of her stethoscope under the inflated pad and listened. The ambulance leaned left and then right, zooming its way through streets that were just open enough to allow them constant movement. Its siren wailed.
"How can you even hear anything in all this racket?" asked the old man's grandson. He sat next to the gurney, looking a bit crammed. Today, Paul wore a simple polo shirt and slacks. He had come from the golf course. The last time Shannon's ambulance had to come get George, Paul came from work in a tailored suit.
On the one hand, Shannon appreciated the obvious concern Paul had for his aging grandfather. On the other hand, she didn't care for his tone when he spoke to her or her partner. She wanted to tell him off, but instead just swallowed her irritation. Snapping at people wasn't her style. "I've had lots of practice," Shannon answered. She had given up on calling him 'sir' after the second encounter. He was too quick to act like he had some supervisory authority over her.
"I know what that's like," smiled George. "I used to drive a tank, back in the war. Everyone would ask how I could hear things over the engine, but I could. The lieutenant... he liked to say I could tell what might be wrong with the engine just by listening to it."
"You should listen to the staff at the home, Mr. Upton," Shannon told him. "No more walking near the stairs when you feel dizzy. You're sure that's all it is?"
"Yes," George nodded. "I'm just dizzy sometimes." He fell silent, looking at her for a long moment as she listened for his pulse, and watched the dial, and counted. "You have hair like his wife."
"Hm?"
"The lieutenant's wife. He met a librarian. In Paris. Married her right in the middle of the war. Redhead, just like you. Kept it tied back tight, just like yours. Little more delicate than you... but it was Paris in the war and there wasn't a lot of food to go around for a good while there, you see," he corrected tactfully. Shannon paid it no mind. "And she wasn't carting old men out of retirement homes or anything. But oh, she was so pretty..."
The ambulance rattled again, a little to the right, then a little to the left and then back again. "How'd that work out for them?" Shannon asked. "The marriage?"
George didn't answer right away. The silence surprised Shannon. Something was wrong with it. She looked up at him, trying to understand what bothered her. "He died," George said. "Took a bullet for me outside the tank. Right at the end of the war." His voice diminished. "All this time I've had... all these years, because of him."
This wasn't right. Shannon watched him, and listened, and quickly realized what bothered her.
"I'm sure he'd be glad to know how things turned out for you, grampa," assured Paul. "Don't worry about that now."
Shannon no longer paid attention to the conversation. She couldn't hear the thump of his pulse in the stethoscope anymore. Oh no, she thought. "George?" she said, dropping the stethoscope and bringing her hand to his face. "George, are you okay? Can you hear me?"
"What's wrong?" asked Paul.
"I need that," she grunted, pointing at an equipment bag behind him. "Move. Ian!" she called to the driver. "Ian, he's gone cardiac! Right here in the wagon!"
"Aw, shit!" her driver snapped.
"What's that—wait, right now?" Paul demanded.
Shannon had the defibrillator out of the bag already. She suspected it wouldn't do any good. George was old and infirm. Shannon had done this job long enough to know a done deal when she saw one. Still, he was a fighter. So was Shannon. She wouldn't give him up without a struggle, and a real one at that.
"Ian, haul ass!"
* * *
Serena loved her life. She loved the glamour, and the adulation, the intrigue and the wicked pleasures. She loved playing different roles for different partners, and loved to reveal her naughty, dirty girl core. She loved the raw power invested within her in all its facets. She absolutely loved to be lusted after.
She also loved the sex.
Her current partner, Jack, was a good one. He had a strong, animal lust and responded beautifully to the right strokes to his ego. Jack fucked her selfishly, which spoke to his nature, but in Serena's case that worked out just fine. She didn't mind his selfishness at all, and in fact did all she could to encourage it. To his credit, Jack also liked to get Serena off—mostly just for the ego boost he derived from hearing and feeling her climax, but it still meant more pleasure for her.
His motivations mattered little to her. Her partner delivered in bed, and that meant everything.
Jack took her from behind, pulling back again and again with one hand on her hip and the other clutching a fistful of her hair. Serena's hanging breasts swayed as Jack fucked her. He didn't hurt her at all—and couldn't, but Jack couldn't really know that. He had been back there for a very long time, relentlessly pounding her ass with his hips as his cock plunged into her again and again. Serena loved every minute, and made sure Jack knew it. She genuinely didn't want him to quit.
The longer this sort of thing took, the more satisfaction and happiness she received.
His endurance had finally reached its limits, though. His thrusts slowed and his breath grew ragged. The only thing about him that refused to weaken was his cock, and he was too out of sorts to think critically about that, or about just how many times he'd gotten off without softening.
Yet he couldn't give up. Couldn't stop. She felt too good to stop, and she knew it. She had him fully enthralled. Serena felt his pace ease up, and smiled, and gave a small, taunting whine. "So close," she said. "Fuck, I'm so close."
Jack rallied. It wasn't much, but his hips crashed forward into her again, still slower but at harder at least, and she knew the pleasures it offered her partner seduced him into more. Serena gasped, "Oh! Oh! Yeah!" in time with his hips, until his body trembled to a final release.
It was every bit as good for her, too. She couldn't deny that—not honestly, anyway, and there was no need to lie about it. Serena's eyes rolled back and her voice rang out in moans of genuine pleasure.
He all but hung by that hand in her hair, using it to keep himself up. She could support him easily like that. She was far stronger than she looked.
"I gotta stop," he wheezed. Jack's eyes drifted around lazily. Were it not for the hand in her hair and the irresistible sensation of remaining coupled with her, he'd have collapsed. "Baby, I gotta... I gotta stop..."
"No, Jack, no, ssshhh," Serena counseled him softly. She rose upright on her knees, taking his hands and releasing his cock—just for the moment—to turn herself around to face him. "I'll take it from here, Jack," whispered Serena. "I'll take it from here. You just lie back."
With her partner settled onto the bed, Serena swung her leg over his body and straddled him in reverse, facing his feet rather than his face. She found his cock still ready for her, and brought it into herself with another whimper of pleasure. "Just enjoy it, Jack," Serena said as she began to rock against him. "Enjoy me. Enjoy it while it lasts."
* * *
"They can't have asked us to stick around here for anything good," Ian muttered. He stood beside Shannon in the ER waiting room, taking up one small stretch of wall away from the patients, the victims and their various companions. He created a perfect portrait of a Seattleite: paper Starbuck's cup in one hand, smartphone in the other.
"We did everything we could," shrugged his ambulance partner. Shannon had a clipboard in her hand, going over paperwork from their rig. She didn't look up at him as she spoke. They weren't particularly close, but they got along fine.
She had two years on him. Like Shannon, Ian signed on with the company straight out of his EMT certification tests. Like Shannon, he did a bang-up job with the company. Like Shannon, he came in with ambitions of working his way through college to a better-paying medical career.
Unlike Shannon, he hadn't actually gone back to school yet. He didn't carry the burden of increasing student debt compounded by their crappy pay. Still, he'd been with the company long enough to know when trouble brewed.
"How long do we wait?" he asked. He looked around the waiting room, noting that it was as busy as one would expect on a Monday morning. Adults waited. Children cried. Almost every seat was filled. The only empty spots were beside the sort of people one only sat next to out of exhaustion or desperation.
"Company said to wait until we were released," Shannon muttered for the second time. "If they need us to cut loose, they'll let us know."
"Just sayin'. We could be out there doing stuff."
"Not sure there's that much for us to do if they're leaving us at the hospital's mercy," Shannon said. She glanced down at the game of Tetris he played one-handed on his phone and considered checking her own, but didn't want to look unprofessional. It seemed like a silly thing to worry about, though, given the wait they endured.
Then she became aware of the emergency room doctor as he walked up. He was heavyset, with tired eyes and a deep bend to his lips that went well beyond mere grouchiness. Those eyes spoke of far too many hours on duty. "Are you the two who brought in George Upton?" he grumbled.
Shannon glanced at his nametag. "Yes, Dr. Woerner," she said. "How'd he turn out?"
"He's dead," Woerner replied flatly.
Shannon took in a deep breath, frowned and nodded. She had done this for several years now. It happened. She had done all she could.
Just the same, it never failed to ruin her day.
"He hung on all this time?" Ian asked.
"No, I've been with other patients I couldn't leave waiting," snapped the irritated doctor, "but you two are perfectly healthy and so I figured I could prioritize appropriately, which is more than I can say for either of you."
"I'm sorry?" Shannon blinked.
"You two want to tell me how you turned a simple slip-and-fall transport into a clusterfuck like this?"
"Wait, what?" Shannon worked to control her voice. "He had the cardiac in the wagon while I checked on him. Doctor, we know what we're doing. I'm a nationally-certified paramedic and—"
"Not for long," the doctor interrupted. "I've got my copy of the paperwork. You can explain this to your bosses before you're suspended, Ms. Abrams."
"Suspended for what!?"
"I didn't lose that patient, Abrams." His finger came up at her chest. "You did." With that, the doctor stormed off.
"What the—what the hell?" Ian burst when his jaw came off the floor. "Is he off his meds or something? We did nothing wrong!"
"Off his meds or suffering from having his head up his ass," Shannon concurred.
"I mean, did you do anything wrong?"
"No," she shook her head. It wasn't her first ambulance ride. She worked to resuscitate the patient the entire way to the hospital, going above and beyond anything expected of her by the book. She did nothing out of bounds for her certification level.
"Because that guy's gonna claim we fucked up!"
"He's gonna claim I fucked up," Shannon corrected. "All you did was drive the bus."
"Jesus. This is really shitty," grunted Ian. Shannon noted that his anger had suddenly diminished into mere annoyance. "Hey, I'm gonna go hit the bathroom and then we can get out of here, okay?"
"Sure," Shannon nodded. She watched as he left and let out a sigh. It really would all come down on her head alone. The whole thing was baseless, of course; the doctor had no case at all. Yet she'd still wind up having to deal with it, and her supervisor wasn't exactly known for his backbone.
Glumly, Shannon waited for Ian to get back. Boredom got the better of her. She pulled her cell phone out of the pocket on her pant leg, turned it on and looked for messages. She found a single text from Brad. Shannon opened it up, hoping for some sort of encouraging word from her boyfriend of over a year.
"I hope I'm not an asshole for breaking it to you like this," read the text, "but it's just not working out anymore. There's just no spark. I think we should both move on."
* * *
Serena's voice mingled with the weak sighs of her partner as they came together yet again. Her shapely ass ground against his hips while her hands busily worked the outer flesh of her sex, drawing out her orgasm well beyond his. Her body gleamed with sweat. Jack's grew ever paler.
"Oh, I knew you'd be a fun job, soldier boy," the beauty laughed as the last spasms of climax subsided. She didn't let him go, nor did she take any time to rest. Instead, she rocked against him once more, still fucking him despite his breathless pleas.
"Gotta stop," Jack begged weakly. "Please stop. Gotta rest. Can't... can't do more."
"But it feels so good, doesn't it?" Serena smiled. She didn't need to look at him to know how he looked.
"Yeah. Yes," he admitted, "but we just... I can't... I can't..."
"I can. Don't worry. I'll keep this party going until you're all finished off, Jack." Her grin became malicious. "Should've gone to your meeting."
"Wh... what?"
"I said you should've gone to your meeting. Maybe you could've confessed your crimes there. But if I was going to let you do that, I wouldn't be here in the first place."
"Hhhhuh?"
"Oh, c'mon, Jack. Big bad warrior like you. Guys like you should know trouble when they see it." She inhaled sharply, riding out electric sensations between her legs. "Should've seen it in me."
"No. Let go," he said through cracked lips and a dry throat. "Lemme go."
"I will, Jack. I'll let you go. Right to your eternal reward." The mere thought made her shake. "It's gonna be so good... for me. Maybe not for you. But you know that now, right? Can you feel it?"
Jack's eyes fluttered open again. Now he saw the broad, black wings, and the tail, and the reddish hue of her skin. It made her no less sensuous, and did nothing to diminish the pleasures of being sheathed within her, but Jack's heart beat faster.
"Oh, fuck, you've got at least another hour in you. I knew you'd be a stallion. Most of the guys I fuck aren't nearly this in shape, but you're a fighter. You're a champion. All those people you murdered... they knew it, too, didn't they? Before you died? Unh. Mmmh. I'm not... usually into... challenges... but oh, fuck, have you been worth it."
His weak, trembling hands reached for the nightstand.
"I took the gun out of the drawer while you were in the shower, Jack," Serena chuckled. "Paranoid fool. Sleeping with a gun by the bed. But oh, fuck. Such a good cock." Her hands came between her legs to touch his shaft as she rocked back on it. "All the gun you need, right here."
Jack's fear pushed him to try again. The nightstand was empty. He reached back behind his head, hardly able to feel anything by touch now because of the overwhelming pleasure offered by Serena's flesh, but he had to try. His hands fumbled back behind the pillow and found his other pistol on its holster hanging just below the headboard.
He was about to come again. He was close. So close. For the first time since he'd met Serena, he managed to deny himself. His life was at stake.
Jack pointed the gun at her back. It shook in his trembling hand. Holding it up seemed all he could do; the final pull of the trigger was almost more than he could manage.
The bullet struck her at the base of her skull. Serena immediately flew off of him and landed face first against the dresser across from the bed. The pistol fell from Jack's weak hand. He tried to cough, but couldn't muster the energy. His eyes fluttered open once more. The danger was gone. He knew that much, at least. He could rest now. Rest.
Serena rose with rage burning in her eyes. Jack's eyes snapped open again just before the flames erupted from her mouth, engulfing him and his bed. He had no energy left with which to scream as he died, taking years of violent sins with him.
Almost as soon as the last tongue of flame left her mouth, she regretted it. She'd acted out of pain and anger. It was reflex. Sloppy. Stupid. The fire spread quickly, igniting the wallpaper and the sheets. "Aw, shit," she cursed at herself.
Serena looked toward the door for an escape, then the window on the other side of the room—and saw the gleaming halo and white wings of a young-looking beauty in a simple white dress.
"Well, fuck me running," the angel scowled. "I thought I smelled skank in this neighborhood."
* * *
"Please don't call her that."
"No, seriously, she's gotta be a skank," Ian said. He drove along with one hand on the wheel and the other holding his burrito. "I mean if he's ready to dump you for her after dating you for a year and he does it over text? That means he's got somethin' he doesn't want to own up to in person. If you think there might be another woman, then there probably is."
"You don't have to call her a skank," mumbled his partner. For the first time in Ian's memory, she had her phone out in her hands and keyed in commands. "I don't even know her. I don't know what's going on with them. And it's not like we had moved in together or anything."
"Seriously? Shannon, she stole your man! She's a skank!"
"No, really, Ian. Stop it. I'm serious," Shannon said flatly. "That's a shitty thing to say about anyone and I don't need to hear it. Brad chickening out on me is one thing. She didn't do wrong by me in any way that I know about. She might not even know he had a steady girlfriend, or he might have lied about me and made her think dumping me was healthy for him. So leave her out of it, okay?
"Nobody 'steals' anyone. He's an adult. He makes his own decisions. If he's not interested enough to stay with me, then I don't want him."
"Fine," Ian shrugged. "Jeez. Sorry." He drove on in sullen silence, waiting for Shannon to apologize for snapping at him. When she didn't, he figured he must have struck a real nerve. Shannon could be firm and loud in an emergency, but she rarely rebuked him or anyone else with the company. She was always shy at parties. Quiet. Not withdrawn, but certainly introverted.
He didn't even know Shannon had a boyfriend until the Christmas party last year. Now she had lost him, and seemed mildly annoyed instead of heartbroken. And now, for the first time ever, she seemed absorbed by her cell phone. Ian finally caught a glance at what she was doing. "Changin' your relationship status, huh?"
"No," answered Shannon. "I don't even post that. I'm tempted to shut this thing off except for all my family out of state."
"So what are you doing?"
"Trying to figure out how to make it stop sending me updates when people send me something or tag me."
"Why's that?"
"Because he changed his status and people are bugging me about what's wrong."
"Seriously? He did that already? Shannon, this guy—"
"Is out of my life now, okay?" Shannon sighed. "Just let it go. I'm better off without him. I'll find somebody new sooner or later." She looked out the window, only now feeling a bit glum.
"Well, you're a pretty gal, right? I mean I don't want to get awkward, but you are," Ian pointed out. "I bet you get asked out a lot, right?"
"No."
"Really?"
"I think I project it or something, but..." Shannon let out a sigh. "I hate dating."
* * *
Serena hated being thrown through drywall.
She crashed through the plaster and flimsy wood in a mess of dust and splinters only to continue through the coffee table in the living room, too, which exploded in a mess of shards. The naked succubus flopped to a stop at the foot of the entertainment center.
"Oh, you stupid demon asshat," ranted the angel in the bedroom. Serena looked through the hole in the wall to see the angel swiftly gather the burning blankets up in a bundle. She saw Jack's lifeless, charred head and shoulders flop up into view for a heartbeat as the angel included him, too.
"What did I say? What did I fucking say to the last two fuckers I sent back to Hell with their heads shoved up their asses?" She moved out of view, presumably heading for the window to throw the bundle outside where the flames would provide less danger to the building. The wall still burned, but the angel clearly meant to remove what fuel she could before dealing with that.
Serena shook herself. She ached all over, but it would take more than this to put her down for good. That angel could do it, though—she knew exactly who she faced. In just the last few weeks, every demon had heard of Rachel.
She hated feeling afraid, but she felt it now. Going toe to toe with an angel of such power was simply not an option. Nor would Serena get away if she simply turned tail and ran.
The succubus launched herself to a small closet and threw open its doors. Hidden behind hanging coats and suits stood a tall, locked box of some of Jack's favorite things. The lock on the metal box did nothing to keep Serena out; the sharp talons that now replaced her fingernails took care of that.
"I said, 'No more asshats in my city!' That's what I told 'em to tell all of you!" Rachel continued to rant as she came back into view. She had curtains in her hands now, using them to beat at the flames still growing across the bedroom wall. "Other people live in this building, you stupid cow! How the fuck am I supposed to put this out? Piss on it? I don't have that kind of equipment!"
She snapped the curtains at the wall again. "You still out there?" Rachel asked. The angel looked over her shoulder. "I haven't forgotten about y—"
Serena pitched the grenade through the hole like a shot putter. Her timing was perfect, as was her aim. Jack was not remotely the first dangerous man she'd slept with. She sometimes learned all sorts of useful things from her lovers.
The grenade exploded in mid-air, less than a foot from Rachel's back. Flames and smoke obscured Serena's view of the damage, but the succubus didn't waste time assessing damage. She pulled the automatic shotgun from its foam resting place.
Clothing. She would need clothing, too. A succubus had great powers of illusion, but power was finite. Having just a little to work with would make things easier. Even a coat would do. With the Saiga shotgun locked and loaded, Serena stood and kept the weapon trained in Rachel's direction while she grabbed a long black trench coat off of a hanger.
In the bedroom, Rachel coughed as she got to her hands and knees. Her head felt like it had been used as the ringer for a cathedral bell, and for that matter so did the rest of her body. She recovered quickly, but even she wasn't invulnerable. Rachel blinked and looked around. At least the blast had blown out most of the flames.
She couldn't have this here. People lived in this building, and protecting them took priority. Bad enough that the succubus had started a fire, but Rachel hadn't expected her to escalate straight to explosives. She got off her knees just in time for the second grenade to land at her feet.
"Aw, sh—" she managed before the grenade blew, lifting her with enough force to bang her up against the ceiling before she landed on the smoldering remains of the bed. This grenade brought with it more fire rather than less. Rachel burned, and with her so did the room.
"Fucking knock that shit off!" raged the angel. She allowed herself to go intangible, rushing up through the wreckage of furniture and going straight through the wall to launch herself back at her opponent. She couldn't remain in that state and land a blow, though, and her foe knew it. As soon as she came through the ruined wall, the shotgun blasts erupted at point blank range.
Rachel screamed more in anger than pain. A mortal body would have been shredded; hers would be severely bruised when this was over. Still, she came on, bringing a fierce left hook into Serena's side that took the succubus off her feet and sent her flying over the bar separating the apartment's living room and kitchen.
She stormed after her opponent. Serena's mouth let loose another storm of fire the instant Rachel was in view. Every tongue of flame that didn't strike Rachel ignited something beside or beyond her: the countertop, the wall, the carpet. Rachel staggered back under the assault, and had to take another step back as the gun came up and pounded her again.
Serena held down the trigger. She saw blood and smelled burnt flesh. Even angels had limits. Perhaps, Serena dared to consider, she might have a shot of getting out of here in one piece after all. She rushed forward, throwing everything she had into a brutal kick to Rachel's midsection. The angel tumbled back onto the floor, still coughing and still smoldering.
The last two rounds burst from the Saiga, its barrel within arm's reach of its target on the floor, and then Serena was out the door.
* * *
"Fuckin' cop. I know that guy. He gave me a ticket last week."
The police car rolled down Broadway Avenue in the opposite direction. Shannon looked at it in the mirror anyway, more out of reflex than rational thought. She had the shotgun seat, her clipboard in her hand so she could keep up with the larger-than-normal load of paperwork after their trip to the ER. It was silly to look in the mirror. How could she even see the guy's face? "What, how fast were you going?"
"Not the point," Ian grunted. He drove on, the bitter frown on his face unchanged since they left the hospital.
"Mm-hm," Shannon nodded. Despite the continual downer of a day, she managed a smirk at that.
"No, seriously," he countered. "I'm just sayin'. I told him I was an EMT and everything. Still wrote me up. Fucker."
"No respect, I guess," his partner shrugged. "God, what a day."
"Yeah, it's pretty shitty. You know Frank's bound to re-shuffle the schedule so we aren't working for the next two days at least, right? Just so he can say he doesn't have us on the street while there's a complaint pending?"
"It's a bullshit complaint, Ian," Shannon replied. "The nurses all said that guy's just in trouble with the hospital for his own fuck-ups and wants to shift blame for this somewhere else. Seattle Fire thought it wasn't a life-threatening call, otherwise they wouldn't have given him to us for transport in the first place, so we're covered there. And we did everything we were supposed to do and nothing we weren't supposed to. We did everything we could."
"That don't mean it won't turn into a thing."
She let out a long sigh. "Yeah."
"Sorry about your boyfriend."
"I'm over it." She paused. "Could've done it a couple weeks sooner, though. Wanted to go to a show on Halloween, but he got all hung up on going to some party and now I'll never get tickets."
"For what?"
"Local bands playing downtown. Throbbing Ennui. Rockerdammerung. Cool guys."
Ian smirked, but said nothing... until he couldn't hold it in. "Seriously?"
Shannon smiled back without looking at him. "Kiss my ass." Then she blinked and leaned forward for a better view. "Hey, is that black smoke up there?" Shannon asked, pointing off to an apartment building just a couple blocks ahead off of Broadway.
"What, that building there?"
Then they saw the windows burst as an explosion went off inside the corner apartment. Shannon grabbed for the radio. "Go, go!"
* * *
She heard sirens as soon as she made it to the rooftop. Smoke from the fire downstairs billowed up around the corner of the apartment building. The sun hadn't quite set yet. All in all, it made for more eyes looking her way than she would've liked, but Serena could escape from mortal vision fairly easily. Angels were another matter. That took real effort. Evasion was more practical.
The natural thing to do would have been to run out with all of the mortals fleeing the building to the streets below. She could blend in and hide that way. She could quickly enlist some altruistic fool in her escape. But that seemed likely to be what the angel would expect of her.
Instead, Serena decided to go up rather than down, and to make brief use of her wings rather than her feet. It was easy to forget that the succubae had wings; half the time they were concealed, anyway, and even then the demons rarely flew.
She took in the skyline, picked a direction and spread her wings.
The hand that grabbed her ankle exerted enough force to nearly break it. Serena yelped as she was flung to the floor. She watched Rachel float up through the roof, bringing one angry fist down onto Serena's stomach. Reflexively, the succubus jerked half-upright, sitting up only to take an elbow to the face.
Rachel released Serena's leg, jerked her to her feet by her wrist and held on tight as she unloaded punches and kicks on the succubus. In a matter of seconds, the fight had entirely turned; regardless of Rachel's injuries and flagging strength, she had the upper hand and wouldn't lose it now. The fact that the succubus held it together even this long spoke to her high rank in whatever demon lord's court she served.
By the time Rachel let go, Serena was punch-drunk and swaying on her feet. The angel wound up for an uppercut and let it fly, crying out, "Shoryuuuken!"
Then she opened her eyes and saw the unconscious succubus flying in an arc off the roof and down onto the street below.
"Aw, shit."
* * *
Amazingly, the street was fairly clear when Shannon and Ian came around the corner. Their siren wailed, their horn honked and their lights flashed, and for once everyone seemed to know what that meant and got the hell out of the way. Their ambulance was the first response vehicle to arrive.
Ian and Shannon looked quickly for someplace to park where they wouldn't block any fire trucks. Consequently, both of them only saw the woman in the trench coat fall from above and land in front of them out of the corner of their eye. No one could reasonably hold Ian responsible for hitting her with the ambulance, but he let out a guilty shriek just the same.
"Take care of the wagon!" Shannon said, jumping out of the ambulance without missing a beat. She hustled over to the fallen woman, making sure to look in every direction and assess the situation. Shannon couldn't really see how the victim had gotten there—nobody could jump from one of the rooftops all the way out to here in the middle of the street—but at least it didn't look like any other women were falling from the windows.
She looked about Shannon's age. Fit. Naked under her trenchcoat. Battered and bloodied, but not lethally so to outward appearances. She smelled of smoke. A big, ugly gun lay beside her. Shannon slipped her gloves on without even thinking about it as she assessed the situation. The victim was already on her back, and thus in a good position to receive care. "Can you hear me?" Shannon asked as she looked her over. She took up her wrist and felt for a pulse. "I'm a paramedic. I'm here to help you. Can you hear me?"
She didn't answer. Shannon felt sure there was a pulse there, but a weak one. Nothing indicated she was breathing, though; no chest movement, no sensation against Shannon's ear as leaned over the victim's mouth.
Naturally, she saw, Ian now had trouble with a crowd. He couldn't leave the wagon yet. Shannon drew a crowd, too. She continued her initial exam, but came to the same results. She reached for her CPR mask, but it had fallen out of her belt pouch when she pulled out her gloves. She didn't see it anywhere in reach.
"Hell with it," she muttered, and put her mouth over the fallen woman's to give her a breath. Instead, the thousand year-old succubus released her last breath into a mortal woman.
Shannon's eyes went wide. Her throat burned, but her body froze and she couldn't let go. Her limbs went weak. That burning sensation went all the way through her, chasing away her sudden, inexplicable chill.
Whatever happened next, Shannon wasn't sure; she passed out.
* * *
She remembered castle walls. She remembered torches, and hearth fires, and the laughter and conversation of a feast.
She remembered her dress. It was long and flowing and beautiful, fit for a noblewoman. A woman like herself.
She remembered the smell of beer and the sweat of men. She remembered the feeling of men's flesh, holding her and caressing her and stroking her inside. More than one man, all at once. She remembered lustful laughter, and needful grunts, and satisfaction and hunger for more. She remembered being taken. She remembered liking it.
She remembered that it had been her idea. It had been her deliberate betrayal.
She remembered torches, and hearth fires, and flames that roared far higher and hotter than anything seen by mortal man.
She remembered being reborn, and remembered that it hurt, but after that she knew there would be power and pleasure for centuries to come.
* * *
"Ms. Abrams? Ms. Abrams, can you hear me?"
"Huh? Yeah. Yeah." Her eyes fluttered open. Up above her were grey Seattle skies. Closer to her, but still above, was a handsome face. She liked the green eyes and the short, spiky blond hair. "Wow. You look good in that uniform," she said sleepily.
The officer blinked. There was a lot of noise: people yelling, some crying, engines running and apparently something big burning brightly and loudly not far away. "Uh. Okay. You with us now? What's your name?"
"Shannon. Call me Shannon. Ms. Abrams is my mom," Shannon smiled. Then her smile faded as it all came back to her. "Oh, shit, is she—the woman who fell, is she okay? What happened?"
"Fire's already dealing with the building," the cop shrugged. He looked to be about thirty and in great shape. Shannon couldn't stop looking at him. Fit without being bulky. She wanted to see more. Hell of a time to think about that, though. "Your partner took over with the woman in the street right when I got here and pretty soon... well, anyway, it's under control and I figured somebody should look after you besides random civilians."
"Aw, that's sweet," Shannon smiled. Again, the cop blinked. So did Shannon. "I mean—uh—I mean thanks. Ugh. I gotta get up."
"Woah, careful, slow down," the cop said, kneeling down to help her sit up as she realized just how stable the world wasn't. "Are you hurt at all? You surely a concussion."
"No, I think I'm okay. I mean I'm a little confused, but I'm okay. I just... I started checking on that woman, and then it all went black. Is she okay?"
The cop frowned. "No, I'm sorry," he said. "She's gone."
"Oh, fuck," Shannon sighed, her hands covering her face. Her voice cracked with frustration. "Dammit, I was trying to help her and I don't know what happened!"
"Hey, hey, don't take it like that," the cop said. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I checked her myself. The whole back of her head was broken in like five different places and you could tell just from looking at her that half her ribs were smashed. There was nothing you could've done."
"What? No, she wasn't that hurt! I didn't see anything like that!" Shannon's hands came away from her face. She looked toward the street to see a black plastic sheet covering the fallen woman. Beyond it, Shannon saw that the apartment building was a full-on blaze. Firefighters were inside trying to control and contain the mess, but nobody would be able to live there again once it was all over.
The cop relaxed a bit, understanding that Shannon's frustration wasn't to the point of tears or a breakdown. He saw now that she would hold it together. "You might not remember it that way now," he suggested, "but you could take a look at the body over there if you really want to. I don't recommend it. Seriously, she could've taken that fall in the emergency room parking lot and she still wouldn't have made it."
He helped her up when she moved to rise. "Ugh, I've gotta get back to work," Shannon said.
"No, you're good. Think we're all covered here. Plenty of paramedics already. You need to take it easy. Seriously," he reiterated when she tried to brush him off. Finally, he saw her absorb his words and nod. His tone softened. "Listen, did she have anything with her other than the gun?"
"What? No."
"It's just that nobody in this city should have one of those. If she had anything else and somebody in the crowd walked off with it before we got to you, it could be important."
"No, just... just the coat and the gun. Beside that, she was naked. Gorgeous." Shannon paused as she said that. Where did that come from? What would it matter?
He brought her to an ambulance—her own, embarrassingly enough. She accepted his help in sitting her down on the back bumper, less because she needed any help and more because she liked it. That wasn't normally her style... but hell, he's cute and he seems really nice, right?
"What's your name?" she asked.
"I'm Officer Murray."
She smiled up at him. "Does it say 'officer' on your driver's license?"
He grinned back at that. "Kevin," he replied. "My name's Kevin. Look, I'm gonna let your partner know you're okay, alright?"
"I'd appreciate that, thanks," Shannon nodded. She stepped on her urge to flirt more. She wasn't the flirty type at all. If anything, she was normally shy. This was also absolutely not the time or the place. She resolved to get her act together, and then immediately looked back up at him, unfastened the top button on her uniform shirt—just to cool off—and asked with that same girly, not-entirely-innocent smile, "Are you gonna come back?"
"I. Um. I dunno," he stammered, genuinely unsure of how to answer that. "Listen. Uh... like I said, this whole scene is crazy but if you remember anything," he said, fishing a business card out of his shirt pocket, "you wanna give me a call?"
"Sure," she said, accepting the card. The gun. Right. Something about a gun. That was something a cop would care about. Stop thinking like you're out barhopping. "Can I call you anyway?"
"...sure?" he answered. He seemed to blush. Then he left, answering a call from someone else on the scene.
Shannon didn't know whether to squeal or slam her head into the ambulance. She'd never made a guy blush before, let alone a guy like him. She still felt out of sorts. Good, oddly enough, but a little confused. The whole situation around her was pretty crazy, too, she conceded to herself. Maybe she was woozier than she thought and she had just imagined all of the cop's reactions? Or maybe she read them completely wrong because she'd damaged her brain?
A young woman in a dirty white dress stepped in front of her. She was seriously pretty—and pretty serious. "You're Shannon Abrams," said the blonde.
"Yeah?"
"Your boyfriend just dumped you because he's an asshole," she went on. The blonde's eyes looked her over as if reading something or seeing a scene play out on a television. "He—wow, what a dirtbag. Dumped you via text. Didn't have the balls to tell you the truth why. Wow."
"Huh? How did you know—"
The blonde shook her head. "You can't worry about that asshole now. You've got more important things to deal with. Don't fuck anyone until I can talk to you again."
Shannon blinked. "What?"
"Look, just for your own good and theirs: don't fuck anyone. Don't kiss anyone, don't accept any hugs, don't even flirt. Keep your cell phone off. Just get off work, go home and go to sleep. I'm busy and I can't explain just now. I'll catch up with you as soon as I can, but for the love of God, don't fuck anyone, alright?"
With that, she was gone. She just turned her head and walked around the ambulance and when Shannon got up to follow her, she had vanished.
Ian took her place. He came up to Shannon carrying a gear bag, breathing heavy as if he'd been working at a good clip. "Hey, I saw you were up," Ian told her. "How are you feeling? You okay?"
"Yeah, I think so," Shannon answered. "I'm fine now. I think. I'm a little out of it but I don't think I'm gonna pass out again. I feel like such a tool."
"Don't freak out about it," Ian replied. "Just take it seriously, but you've already had a hell of a day. Lots to stress about. Anyway, they've got plenty of people on hand for the fire. I was told we're released as soon as you're ready to go, so let's just head back to the station, okay?"
He's looking at me differently, she realized. It was a subtle thing; something about the interest in his eyes and his posture and the deeper-than-normal tone of his voice. She felt no mutual spark; he wasn't her type, and after riding with him for the last six months she found in him too many of her turn-offs. But she recognized now that there was something there for him, at least.
Ian stepped past her into the ambulance to stow the gear bag. He left Shannon sitting there on the bumper, reflecting on how hard it must be to wear a mask like that all the time. Must be hard to hide how you really feel all the time, she thought. Or to hide who you really are.
* * *
It was a good night to live alone.
Freed from her job after entirely too much discussion with her supervisors—and theirs—about her day, Shannon all but staggered through the door to her apartment, locked it behind her and threw the deadbolt. She leaned against the door, inhaled the lingering smells of last night's cooking and the cheap lavender air freshener plugged in down the hallway and told herself to relax.
She was home now. She would be home for a few days. As Ian predicted, her schedule had been rearranged in light of the complaint from the ER doctor and now because of her fainting spell. Not one of her bosses thought the complaint held any merit, but none were willing to take her episode outside the fire lightly, either.
Shannon unbuttoned her shirt and took it off right there in the doorway. Normally neat and methodical with her clothing, Shannon instead opted to just shed her uniform right there in the entryway.
She wanted to be naked. Shannon jerked at the laces of her boots to free herself from them, dumping the footwear on top of her uniform shirt and then tossing the socks as they came off, one toward the kitchen and another down the hall.
Her single-bedroom apartment usually stayed fairly clean. Now her belt went flying carelessly across the living room. Her undershirt fell across the stove, just a few feet away from the front door. She rounded the corner, went into the bathroom and promptly cranked the knob in her shower-tub to fill it with hot water. She didn't bother to balance it by turning the cold water knob.
Shannon unfastened her pants and slipped them off her hips, slowing now to touch her legs with her fingers all the way down. When she straightened back up, she found herself looking back in the mirror.
Like many women, Shannon wasn't fair to herself about her looks. She faced with her reflection and with her life at a new crossroads. "I'm plenty pretty enough," she said aloud.
She had been since the beginning. She knew that now. Whether Brad got that or not she didn't know and could hardly bring herself to care, but she was clearly better than he deserved. She had a brain. She had a job—crappy though it often was, and no longer as awesome as she once thought, it was still a job and she was damn good at it. Shannon was twenty-eight, sane and stable despite her career frustrations. She'd been a good girlfriend: thoughtful, attentive, willing to give space. And yes, pretty, too, goddammit.
"Can't say much for the underwear, though," Shannon frowned, and watched herself in the mirror as she pulled the sports bra over her head. Her hands came down to her chest to massage her freed breasts and rub the red lines left behind by the edges of her bra.
All that was normal. It always felt good to shed her bra after work. What wasn't quite normal was the amount of time she took in rubbing her breasts, or the slow, sensual pleasure of it. Her breasts felt good. Very good. She'd never noticed it before. Shannon felt a bit bad about having to restrain her perky endowments—firmer than she normally gave herself credit for—in such an unflattering garment. They looked good. They felt even better.
Her hands lingered. Stress quickly melted away as she touched herself. Shannon cupped her breasts, bringing her fingers to her nipples and giving the slightest of caresses, and found herself letting out a deep sigh.
A grin spread across her face, half out of genuine arousal and half out of wry amusement. Like anyone, she took care of herself while alone from time to time. Yet she never liked the thought so much before now. Shannon glanced at the tub, seeing it fill with water hot enough to give off visible steam, and decided she deserved a little playtime. In fact, she deserved a lot.
She shed her panties—dismally plain things, she decided—and allowed one hand to linger between her legs while she slid the flow selector over to "shower."
Scalding hot water rained down from the detachable nozzle. Some of it splattered onto the floor outside the tub. Shannon hardly cared. She slipped one leg inside, then another, loving the wet warmth that sprayed across her body and immersed her legs.
How are they so smooth? Shannon wondered absently. It had been several days since she last shaved, but now they felt as if she'd just waxed. Her hands slid up and down her legs, enjoying them almost as much as she enjoyed touching her own breasts, and only barely questioned her new sensitivity.
Soaking wet now, Shannon finally slid the shower doors closed to avoid a flood in her bathroom before she pulled the nozzle from its mount. She ran it over her body, reveling in the heat without considering how it should burn rather than comfort. She brought it over her head. Down across her shoulders. Over her breasts, then under them, and finally down her belly to her center.
She was glad to be home from work. She was glad she didn't have to deal with Brad... and yet she felt a hunger that would best be sated by a man. Still, the shower would do nicely for now, which only seemed surer as she began to tease herself between the legs with the water flow.
The world and all her cares drifted away as the water began to do its work. Shannon lifted one leg up onto the side of the tub to allow better access, leaned against the wall and sighed while she teased herself further. Arousal built. Heat and pressure applied in small circles quickly did its work.
Shannon shook and let out a moan. She wasn't normally this quick; more than once, she had run out of hot water before getting off, and that was without filling the tub with hot water beforehand. Yet she didn't feel rushed at all. Were it not for the finite limits of her hot water heater, she would have thought she'd been at this for quite a while as pleasure rose and her tremors grew more intense.
The water felt so good. She felt so good. A shuddering breath escaped her as the spasms began. Shannon let out a loud moan, shameless and joyful in its announcement of her climax. It, too, went on for longer than she expected. Her center throbbed with pleasure and the sound of the showerhead between her legs changed as she brought it in even closer to prolong her bliss.
Her orgasm abated, only to quickly build into another before she had even pulled the showerhead away. Shannon rode it out, surprised at her body but happy to enjoy it just the same. Water sprayed all around her as her hands shook, but she didn't mind. Nothing detracted from the sensations of orgasm.
Relieved and pleased, Shannon lazily assessed the depth of water in her small bathtub and found it adequate. She turned off the flow and left the showerhead hanging from its metal hose as she sank into the tub, immersing herself in water that would have burned any other woman.
It felt natural. It felt relaxing. She hadn't felt cold before, necessarily, but the heat soothed her. Naked and alone and for the moment satisfied, Shannon felt the last tensions of her day leave her body.
Her mind relaxed, and finally turned off.
When she found herself thinking about much of anything once more, she found her thoughts drifting toward naughty things. She lay in the tub with her legs spread and her knees bent, perfect for the taking if only she had someone here to take her. Or to kneel down and please her. That would be lovely, too. No room in the tub for either option, of course, but her position was perfect for such fun.
She frowned a bit, reflecting on her bout of self-love. Normally she entertained definite fantasies when she took care of herself. They varied in style and in partners—not that she could ever have told touchy, insecure Brad about whom she fantasized—but naughty daydreams were always part of the process. Only just now she had been turned on without any such thoughts at all. She had been turned on by her reflection in the mirror. She had been turned on all by herself. Literally by herself.
Her hand was on her breast again. Another drifted between her legs to tease her lips. It felt good... but this wouldn't do. She wanted more.
Shannon slid the shower door open again and found her pants still in a pool on the bathroom floor. She grabbed the edge of the bath mat to pull them over, drying her hands on its fabric. Shannon fumbled with the pants until she could get at the cell phone in her back pocket. The cell phone, and one other tiny item.
Her eyes rolled and she let out a sigh as the phone announced an endless stream of texts and voicemails. Friends and family called to offer their sympathies on her break-up. Several messages asked which of Brad's limbs she would prefer broken. Shannon considered herself shy and socially timid—work was one thing, making friends was another—but even so, she had her support circles.
She didn't need them, though. She needed something different. Shannon checked the time and decided to go for broke as she dialed the number on the card.
"This is Kevin," a voice answered.
"I thought you'd answer with 'Officer Murray' or something," Shannon said, sinking back into the tub with a grin. She felt a bit surprised at how easily she could talk to this man; normally she found herself tongue-tied around attractive strangers. Now the flirtation came naturally.
"Uh... sorry? Who's this?"
"It's Shannon, from earlier today. The paramedic?"
"Oh, hi. Right. How are you feeling?"
Shannon's free hand wandered back between her legs. "Pretty good," she replied. "So are you at your desk? Or is this your personal phone?"
"I'm still on duty, but some of us do carry cell phones," Kevin answered. Now that she listened for it, Shannon could hear the sound of traffic going by. "Normally I let it go to voice mail, but I'm parked at the moment. What can I do for you?"
Shannon stomped on her initial bawdy response. That would not do at all. Nor was it even remotely in character for her. Suddenly unsure of what to say, Shannon's eyes darted around as she considered her response. She caught sight of the plastic jack o' lantern on her kitchen counter down the hall, full of candy that she would likely eat before any trick-or-treaters actually came along at her door.
It's Halloween, she thought, or close to it. You can be whoever you want to be.
He's a stranger. Just met him. Nice, but nothing to lose. Probably already attached anyway. Just go for it.
"I was hoping you could meet with me later tonight, if you're up for it. Maybe when you get off work?"
"...this isn't about the dead woman with the gun, is it?" he asked hesitantly. Shannon didn't hear any particular disapproval in his voice. "You're not asking to meet with me for some professional matter?"
"Does it have to be?"
"I dunno. Kind of inappropriate," he teased.
Shannon winced. "Right. God. Sorry, I know, I shouldn't—"
"It's a little before nine now. I'm off at about eleven unless something crazy happens. Probably be midnight at least before I can actually be anywhere. Gotta go home and feed my cat."
"Aw. That's sweet. Late tonight is good for me. I've got tomorrow off. But I wouldn't want your kitty to go hungry."
"Oh, no, he's a smart guy. If I don't get home and feed him, he'll just find a way to get at the food and then I'll have to clean up whatever mess he leaves behind. Anyway. Are you in the city? I live in the north end. Greenwood-ish."
"I'm pretty near Greenwood myself," Shannon smiled. "That'll make things a little easier. Where should we meet?"
* * *
She didn't normally do much barhopping. More to the point, when she did hit the bars, it was usually as the designated driver. Brad had a tendency to enjoy a bit too much, and for that matter so did the last couple of guys Shannon dated. When Kevin opted for "all-night greasy spoon" instead of someplace to get a drink, Shannon considered it a good sign.
She might have preferred to get him loosened up, but the fact that he would drop whatever plans he had for the night to come meet her hinted that she might not need the edge. Or maybe she should draw a different conclusion; she didn't know. This level of spontaneity was a bit new for her.
Shannon sat in a booth away from the window. Crayon and pencil drawings done by years of customers on plain white paper placemats covered the walls. Some were cute; a few were very well done; most were just silly or witty. Shannon worked on her own as she waited with her mug of coffee.
"You look nice out of your uniform," said a voice. Kevin stood by her table, clad in black slacks and a nice but casual blue shirt under a leather jacket. He smirked as he added, "That's not an opening for you to ask if you look bad in your uniform, by the way."
His tone conveyed an obvious compliment. Figuring she shouldn't overdo it, Shannon had gone with a simple black skirt and a lacy white top that allowed for a little cleavage. "You look good out of yours, too," she grinned back. "Hi. Have a seat," she gestured.
"Kept you waiting long?" he asked as he obliged.
"Nah. Not too hard to keep myself amused for a little bit in here."
"Yeah... yeah, I can kinda see that," Kevin said. His eyes strayed toward her crayon drawing. A black stick-figure woman with wings, a tail, small horns and a big smile waved a whip over several kneeling stick-figure men, all before a background of tall orange and red flames with bats flying overhead.
Shannon glanced down at the drawing and blushed fiercely. "Oh, this is just... just boredom," she said, and reached to crumple it up.
His hand stopped hers. "No, don't do that. It's good," he said. His hand felt nice. Strong. Warm.
"I don't normally draw a lot."
"Maybe you should. You've got talent."
"Hey, folks, anyone need coffee or anything to get you started?" asked the server, all of a hundred and thirty pounds covered in tattoos and piercings. He offered up a menu for Kevin.
"I could order, actually," he said with a questioning glance to Shannon. When she nodded, he said, "Apple pie a la mode? Just that and water. Thanks."
"Mm. Cherry for me, please. And a Coke," Shannon added. She smiled at Kevin as the waiter left. "Dessert was a good idea. Skip straight to the good stuff. So I'm not pulling you away from anything at home, am I? No Mrs. Murray?"
He shook his head. "Just a cat. I can make it up to him later. Never had a Mrs. Murray. Closest thing to it moved out a few months ago."
"What happened there? She have trouble with your job? I know that's a common one for folks like us. Your type more so than mine."
"Nah, just a bag full of crazy. Should've known better."
"You mean she was a bag full of crazy and you should've known better, or the other way around?" she smirked.
Kevin smiled. As she suspected, he appreciated teasing more than fawning. How she could read him so well, she didn't know, but there it was. He liked her. The more she spoke and the more he looked, the more he liked.
"I shouldn't rip on her. She had her reasons. I'm over it. What about you, though? All I know is your face and your job. How long have you been a paramedic?"
"Few years now. Technically my job title only says 'EMT' 'cause that lets the company get away with paying me less, but my certifications all say 'paramedic.' I keep hoping to move up to something better, but it's turning into kind of a trap."
"You don't have to apologize for your job," he shrugged. "I think it's cool."
"I used to think so, too," Shannon nodded. "It has its high points. I mean you know what it's like to feel like you've rescued someone, right? But after awhile it just... it just becomes a job. I wanted to stay in school and pay for college, and a lot of folks do the same thing, but that's just not..." she trailed off. Something inside her said, That's enough. Not the way to attract a man. Keep things positive. Shannon shook her head and smiled. "Not really what I planned to talk about tonight, anyway."
The waiter came by with their drinks. "You had a plan for tonight?" Kevin asked.
Shannon put her pinky in her soda and swirled it around. "More or less," she admitted with a shrug. "I thought I'd call up this nice, cute guy I met today and see what he was doing tonight. See if he's as good a guy as he seems, y'know? And then, if that all checked out, I figured I'd just... see if I couldn't wrap him around my finger." With her gaze locked on his, she pulled her pinky out of her glass and put it in her mouth.
His eyes were wide with interest. She withdrew her finger as slowly as she'd put it in her mouth, giving it a gentle suck. To his credit, his jaw didn't fall open. Kevin grinned, appreciating the show but not taking it too seriously... at least, not outwardly. Shannon suspected his interest was greater than he let on. He didn't want to seem like a lech.
Shannon wouldn't mind that right now. "Hey, I'm gonna go hit the bathroom for a moment," she said. Shannon slid out of the booth, standing and smiling at him before she turned. She felt his eyes on her backside, and her stockings with the lace tops that didn't quite come up to the hem of her skirt. She knew he wouldn't take his eyes off of them until she was out of sight.
Others watched her walk, too, just as they had watched her enter the diner. Excitement welled up within her, but she kept a firm hold on it. She kept her cool. She had a mission here, and she meant to see it through.
Her confidence was quite the turn-on. For both of them.
* * *
Kevin pushed her up against the wall beside the door to her apartment. He meant to wait until they were inside, but he just couldn't help himself. She grinned at his firm but gentle treatment, and grinned further into his kiss—just like she had outside the diner, and beside her car parked on the street outside, and in the garage downstairs and the elevator.
Shannon slid one leg up along the side of his, bending her knee so she could hook it around his hip. Her companion attacked her mouth without hesitation. She liked that, but she wanted more.
"You're being way too shy," she murmured when his lips moved from her mouth to her neck. His hands on her hips felt good. They'd feel better elsewhere.
"Wouldn't want to make a bad impression," he whispered, his cheek sliding up her neck so his lips could softly attack her earlobe.
"That's all settled. The interview's finished. Now's the practical exam."
"Don't I get study time?" His hands roamed up and down her sides. "Seems like there's a lot to cover."
"Nope. Test time. Better start getting naughtier or I don't open this do-oooohh," she moaned with delight as his hand came up under her skirt to palm her between her legs. He skillfully teased her with the pressure and warmth of his hand, their skin separated only by her thin panties. She was surprised at how wet she felt; he had to feel the dampness, too, she knew, but he didn't seem at all put off. Her head rested on his shoulder as she enjoyed his touch. "That's better," she approved.
"You really want me to be naughty?"
"Yesss."
His hand relaxed just enough to make her pout. She opened her eyes to find his taunting grin. "Open the door," he told her. Kevin didn't move away as she found her keys in her purse, nor as she unlocked her home. That made her happy. Something about having the touch of an aroused, attractive man while she did common things greatly appealed to her. Something about his increasingly open lust appealed to her even more.
"I don't normally do this," she admitted.
"Me neither," he said. "You want me to cool it? Back off? I don't want to make you uncomf—"
"I want you to do something to me that would shame your mother if she ever found out," she grinned wickedly. "You can go back to being sweet in the morning." His eyes sparkled. So did hers.
Shannon threw open the door. Kevin refused to remove his hand from under her skirt until they were inside. It made for slightly awkward movement, but Shannon reveled in his touch. With the door safely shut and locked behind them, Kevin brought her over to the back of the big chair in her living room just a few steps away. She felt him unzip her skirt before he bent her over, hiking the skirt down and then her panties. He did it all with one hand, as the other arm stayed wrapped around her shoulders from behind.
When his fingers came back to her very wet pussy, Shannon let out another moan of delight. She trembled and gasped and moaned at his touch, loving his exploring fingers and his animal lust. Yet for all his physical power, Shannon had no doubt who called the shots.
She leaned against the chair, arching her back as jolts of pleasure punctuated the delicious sensations of his fingers sliding over and probing into her sex. Shannon cooperated as Kevin paused to rid her of her skirt and panties. Happy to be toyed with, she gave no thought to the way he crouched behind her, or the shift of his hand, and was all too happy to oblige when she felt him nudge her legs further apart. She bent over further at his wordless instruction.
Then she felt him kneel between her legs. Shannon's breath quickened with excitement and suspense. Could he really be going for that? Brad never did anything like this for her, nor had her previous boyfriend after that first time. But now Kevin knelt between her stocking-clad legs and she felt his lips trail up the inside of one thigh while his fingers moved up the other and then—"Ooooh," Shannon sighed as she felt the first gentle probe of his tongue.
His lips and tongue held to the softest, most agonizingly light touch, which only heightened her excitement. Shannon wanted to arch her back as pleasure shot through her, but she knew that would only make for a tougher angle for him. Instead, she made herself give in and relaxed her torso against the back of the plush chair. She let him get to work and adored him for it.
His hands spread across her ass, groping and caressing it. Never before had Shannon felt like her butt was particularly attractive, but sometime during her bath or perhaps while she dressed she realized it had a great shape. It was firm and tone and inviting, just like the rest of her body. Shannon felt sexier than she ever had in her life.
Her enjoyment grew as his kiss went deeper. "Oh, that's incredible," breathed Shannon. "I'll give you about... oh... all night to... to knock that off."
"Hm," he responded. The sensation of his voice against her pussy made her shiver. "I might need all night," he confessed.
Shannon's wicked grin returned. He loved the taste of her. She could hear it in his voice and feel it in his touch. She relaxed and let him indulge her, or perhaps she indulged him.
Her mind wandered to strange places as she enjoyed his attention. Such exquisite physical pleasure clouded her thoughts, but it wasn't as if her brain turned off. Shannon could count on one hand the number of men she'd ever slept with. She was shy and slow to trust on this level. It wasn't as if she didn't want a wild sex life; she fantasized about it, but she rarely overcame her personal barriers, and when she did her partners more often than not left her disappointed, even hurt.
So what made her so confident all of the sudden? Rebounding from Brad couldn't explain this. Something about her behavior with Kevin felt so easy. Her fears were nowhere to be found. The dirty talk, the invitations and innuendos and now this intimate service all carried first-time thrills, but at the same time it felt completely natural.
She ceded more and more of her conscious control, and before long it was no longer even hers to give up. Shannon's body trembled and her mouth fell open as she gasped once, then again as she hit a wall inside of her, only to have Kevin's lips and tongue and hands push her through. She moaned loudly, not giving a damn about the neighbors—in fact, she didn't even remember having neighbors anymore. All she knew about in the entire world was her own body, the chair that supported her and the man sending her into orgasm.
It hit harder than ever. It lasted longer, and brought greater satisfaction... but only briefly. Slumped over the chair, still shamelessly exposing herself, Shannon found herself wanting even more. She didn't want recovery time. She didn't want to cool down. She wanted him. Now.
Shannon looked over her shoulder and then turned around, leaning back against the chair. She liked the awed look on his face as he saw her from the front, naked from the waist down. "Shoes. Now," she said, pointing to his feet.
He grinned, liking her take-charge attitude as much as her previous behavior. Kevin quickly untied and slipped off his shoes and socks. As soon as he was finished, she grabbed his collar and pulled him up to meet her face to face. She planted a hungry, deep kiss on his lips, tasting herself on him.
In the back of her mind, she confirmed her initial thoughts. She couldn't blame him for taking his time on her. She tasted wonderfully.
She tore open his shirt and wrenched it off of him, sending buttons flying. Their kiss only broke off long enough to pull his undershirt over his head. Her hands came to his chest, pushing him backward down the hallway to her bedroom until he hit a wall beside the door. She scratched her nails from his shoulders to the top of his pants, and then assaulted him with another kiss while she slipped his belt free and shoved down on his pants.
"Gnh!" Kevin grunted. Shannon paused and realized what she'd done wrong; he was hard and fully erect, and her treatment of his pants had been a little rough on him there. Though she nearly gasped and pleaded an embarrassed apology, Shannon instead grinned and slid down his front, keeping her eyes on his the whole way.
"Sorry about that," she smirked, and then put her face right beside his cock as she pushed his pants the rest of the way off. Kevin froze against the wall. Shannon only brushed his erection with her cheek, then offered the lightest of kisses on his shaft before rising back up again. "Later for that," she promised with a wink as one of her hands softly closed around his cock.
His eyes fluttered. She felt the thrill of control and decided she could not let it go. Seeing him completely naked now, Shannon discovered another way in which Kevin represented a considerable step up from her last partner. Shannon guided him around, once more pushing him backward until he fell. She looked down with a grin on the fit, attractive man laying diagonally on her bed.
She let him watch as she discarded her top. She held his gaze as she unfastened her lace bra, and smiled as she saw his appreciation for what lay underneath. Then she put one knee up beside his hip and crept in, placing her hands on his chest for support.
Normally she needed more warm-up than this. Usually she wanted serious foreplay. Tonight the thought of any further flirting, cuddling or teasing seemed like madness. Shannon held his gaze again as she spread her legs over his hips and guided his cock to her center with one affectionate.
"Hey," Kevin said, gesturing to the bedroom door, "there's a condom in one of my pants pockets, unless you've got some?"
Condoms? Silly things, she mused to herself, banishing a lifetime of concern for safe sex with a single, completely alien thought. "We're safe," she said softly. Her hand guided the head of his cock to her lips, giving him just a first taste of the sensations that loomed in his immediate future. She watched his eyes flutter and then open once more. Before he spoke, she said, "Shh. You're mine."
Shannon sank down on him, greedily sheathing his cock within herself. She saw his eyes flutter closed again and his head lay back onto the bed while her body rose to an all new level of energy and pleasure. Her legs spread wide across the bed, feet dangling over the sides of the mattress as she rose up on her knees only to sink down upon Kevin once more.
His hips came up to meet her, pushing his cock deeper in. She smiled, but when his hands came up she took hold of his wrists and pushed them back to the bed again. "Relax," she whispered. Shannon leaned forward, bringing her mouth closer to his and rocking her hips up and then down again to stroke him within her. "Let me take care of this."
He let out a heavy, lustful breath. Kevin couldn't take his eyes off of her. She reveled in the look of awe on his face and the ecstasy of having him inside her as she rode him. Taking control excited her. The sensual pleasures of coupling with him excited her more.
Shannon rested her hands on his chest, but all the motion seemed to come from her legs and her hips. It wasn't a motion she'd ever tried before; she'd been on top with guys, of course, but never so wantonly or with such confidence. Her motion remained perfect as she came down harder on him, holding him even tighter within herself with each stroke. Shannon bathed in his amazement and knew this was the best thing he'd ever felt in his life. She could feel him thrust up to meet her; though that went beyond the spirit of her instructions, she couldn't complain. Nor could she blame him.
The ride went on. Shannon felt sexier than ever. She had him. Kevin was completely enthralled, by her beauty and by her skill and passion in bed. He would never forget this. Nor would she. For the life of her, she couldn't imagine why she wouldn't do this every night.
Well. Let's not get carried away, she thought, her mind capable of such thoughts despite her inflamed emotions. A one night doesn't make us a couple. Still...
Shannon leaned in on him. Her face came near his, and her red hair dangled around his face. Even with the new angle, Shannon skillfully kept up the same pace, fucking him as intensely as ever. She heard nothing but surrender in his breath.
"I like you, Kevin," she hissed.
"Oh God," he managed. "I like... I really like you, too... I'm gonna... oh, wow, if you don't slow down I can't... I can't hold back like this."
"So don't," Shannon grinned. "I want you, Kevin. I like you and I want you to get off inside me."
"But you—I don't wanna leave you... unh... hangin'..."
"Shh. Give it to me, Kevin," she whispered before her lips came down on his. "Come in me."
Over a few short hours, Shannon had gotten to know Kevin Murray. She'd taken the measure of the man, and found underneath that humble, self-deprecating grin and gentle demeanor the tough spirit of a veteran of war and police work alike. She couldn't imagine him being cowed by any mortal man... yet she had complete control of him and heard uncontrolled moans from his throat as she forced him past his point of no return.
She felt him stiffen and watched his muscles tense. He'd never had it this good. She knew that just by looking at him. Kevin had been with plenty of women, but this was beyond his experience. Shannon felt the first intense pulse of his release within her and grinned from ear to ear—or would have if her own orgasm didn't swiftly overcome her, rushing in from out of nowhere to share in her partner's climax.
It slowed her. She still rocked against him, but Shannon relaxed her pace, almost against her will, as if her body forced her to savor every second of the rush just like her partner did.
Shannon lay on top of him, her breasts crushed up against his chest as they bathed in satisfaction together. She felt him throb within her, still getting off well past anything he would have expected. She spasmed right along with him.
The last throbs of orgasm faded, but she refused to let him go. She didn't need to. He stayed perfectly hard within her. Time passed until the pair stirred. Shannon felt his hands rise to her back, and then grinned as they slid down to hold her ass.
"I'm not done with you yet," she warned him. Her voice spoke to her deep satisfaction, but just the same she knew she wanted more. She knew he'd be up for it, too.
"Not goin' anywhere," breathed Kevin.
"This isn't me, you know."
"Hm?"
"I'm not normally like this. I'm shy. I'm timid. I might crawl back into my shell someday. Maybe even tomorrow."
"Well, you can still call me from in there if you want," said Kevin. "I'm not gonna presume anything with you. But either way, I hope this isn't just a one-night stand."
"No," Shannon smiled. She propped herself up a bit to look him in the eye. "I'm going to fuck you all night. I'm going to go down on you and taste you and rock your world. And then I might let you go in the morning. Maybe."
He nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said before he kissed her again.
* * *
She rolled over in bed, frustrated in her half-conscious state by the light in the room and her lack of blankets. Shannon turned and reached out, finding her bedmate beside her. She put her hand over Brad's flat, well-toned abs and smiled to herself.
Wait. No. When did Brad lose the gut? His abs weren't this firm, certainly not while he slept.
Oh no.
Ohmygod.
It all came back to her. There was no more Brad. She might be in trouble at work. And she had most certainly thrown herself at a cop she'd just met yesterday, taken him home and fucked him like a raging...
Shannon slipped out of the bed, her eyes wide and all thoughts of further sleep gone from her mind. Kevin lay asleep in her bed, handsome and covered in scratches and bite marks. Her hands came to her mouth as if it might help keep her from screaming.
No. He's a nice guy. I did this, she remembered, but that did nothing to alleviate her roiling emotions. Safe as Kevin the cop might be, Shannon was not in the habit of bringing people into her home after knowing them for less than a day—less than a month, if she were honest with herself—and had never, ever had sex with someone she'd just met.
Her eyes darted around the room. She grabbed the first thing she saw—a discarded pillow—and promptly snatched it up to cover herself. Then she backed out of the room, nearly leaping with fright when Kevin rolled over and sniffed. She shut the door behind her, kept backing up, moved into the bathroom, shut that door, too and locked it for good measure.
Calm down, she told herself. Calm down and get a grip. You did this. He's just a guy. He's cool. Just wake up and shower and be a good hostess and offer him coffee or a shower or whatever and send him on his way.
Shannon took a deep breath, then another, and forced her nerves to settle. She was a first responder. She dealt with people when they were at their worst. She could handle this. With an effort of will, she put the pillow down on the floor. Her bathrobe hung from a hook on the bathroom door. She could wear that when she was done in the shower.
She reached inside, turned on the water and dared to look in the mirror. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.
When did she get that Playboy bunny figure?
* * *
"Listen, I know I'm being weird."
"You're not. It's cool."
"No, I am, Kevin," Shannon all but pleaded as she apologized. "You've been so nice to me and I just took advantage of you and I... God, I can't believe I'm even saying that."
He smiled at her. She liked the smile. "Yeah, I can't believe you're saying that, either," he said. Kevin stood in her kitchen, more or less clothed and ready to go. There were some things he couldn't quite put right before he left.
"Jeez, you can't even button your shirt anymore," Shannon winced. She put her hands on her face for the twelfth time since he woke up. Her only reprieve from the fierce blushing of her cheeks from the time he woke up to now came while he was in the shower. And now she stood in her bathrobe, shooing him out of her home and unable to stop herself no matter how much she wanted to.
Kevin was gracious when he woke up. Affectionate, and then considerate and polite when he saw how awkward she felt. He didn't linger, but rather showered and dressed quickly. Even so, it felt like an eternity to Shannon. She wanted him to go. She wanted to wish the whole night away. She wanted to bury her face in her couch, because she couldn't bring herself to look at that bed again.
She wanted to get down on her knees, tear his pants open and suck his cock until he could no longer stand, and that just made her want to hide from him even more.
"I'm sorry," she shrugged.
"Don't be. Just... listen, I know what it's like to have regrets."
"It's not that I regret anything, except that—"
"Shannon, do you like me?" he asked calmly.
"...yes?"
"Then call me later. Whenever you feel ready. And if it's like a week or a month from now, I don't care. I mean I'd like it sooner, but if you need time to get your head together or whatever, I understand, okay? You already made it clear that things won't be like last night again, and I'm fine with that. I'd just like to see you again. And if you don't call me again or if you decide you want to see someone else... no hard feelings," he shrugged easily. "I had a great time. You seem awesome. Even if you just want to be friends, I'm here, okay? You've got my number."
She blinked. "Just friends?"
"Yeah, I can't believe I just said that, either," he confessed. "I may be a little out of it right now. Had a hell of a night."
"So you don't want to be just friends?"
"No. Well. Not 'just,' anyway," he grinned.
Shannon nearly blurted out another apology, but the knock on her door interrupted her. Kevin threw her a quizzical look, but she just shrugged. "Probably someone looking for the wrong apartment," she said. "It happens." She stepped past him and opened the door.
The striking beauty of the first woman she saw left her stunned. She had long black hair, icy blue eyes and flawless skin. Her black designer skirt and top fit her like a glove. Shannon's mind ground to a halt.
The woman behind this stranger, though, was at least somewhat more familiar. "Aw, mother fuckballs," groaned the lovely blonde. She slapped her forehead. "What did I tell you? Seriously, you couldn't go one night without fucking somebody?"
"Huh?" Kevin blinked. "What?"
The drop-dead gorgeous woman in black sighed. "I apologize for the rude greeting," she said patiently. "I take it you are Shannon Abrams?"
"Y-yeah?" answered Shannon.
"And is this your boyfriend?" she asked, gesturing to Kevin.
"Uh," Shannon began, and blushed all over again.
Kevin shook off his own surprise at the sight of the newcomers. He sensed trouble, or at least discomfort on Shannon's part. "I'm sorry, who are you?" he asked.
"His name's Kevin, he's a cop, she met him just yesterday and fucked his brains out all last night," grumbled the blonde.
"I see. Kevin," the other woman said, stepping closer and putting a hand on his chest as she breathed at him in sultry, flirtatious tones, "be on your way. Forget about us. Pay this no mind."
"Okey-dokey," Kevin smiled cheerfully. With that, he slipped past the two women and headed down the hall to the elevator.
Shannon blinked in shock.
"Ms. Abrams... Shannon? May I call you Shannon?" asked the raven-haired woman. "We must speak. Privately. May Rachel and I come in?"
"What... who are you?"
"My name is Lorelei," the woman said, "and, again, my companion is Rachel, whom you've already met. You had a very strange episode yesterday afternoon. You almost certainly have questions. We mean to provide answers." She paused to let her words process. "Shannon, we're here to help."
Shannon's eyes shifted from Lorelei to Rachel. The blonde frowned and shrugged. "We're on a mission from God."
Lorelei winced and let out a soft, disgusted breath.
"Okay, I'm on a mission from God. She's just here 'cause I nag."
Shannon's first instinct was to close and lock the door. Her natural reluctance to allow strangers into her home reasserted itself. Who were these two women? She'd been able to write Rachel off yesterday as just another Capitol Hill weirdo, but here the blonde stood with a composed, clearly sophisticated woman who seemed to agree with her professed concern for Shannon. Kevin's blithe departure upon Lorelei's prompting unsettled her, too.
She knew she should just slam the door. Lock it. Go get the baseball bat and the pepper spray and call the cops. Uniformed, on-duty cops who hopefully wouldn't just walk off like Kevin had. She knew all of that.
She also knew that she had never, ever met a woman this sexy. Lorelei wasn't even trying. She was calm, collected, businesslike and not at all flirtatious, and yet Shannon found her breath deepening and felt herself lick her lips and shift her posture, pushing her chest ever so slightly forward...
Shannon tried to blink away the strange thoughts about Lorelei—and about Rachel, too. The blonde was undeniably beautiful. But Shannon had never felt attracted to women before. At least, not to this degree. Nothing more than curious wonder, which she had always stepped on before it ran away with her. Perhaps, she might admit only to herself, she was less than bothered by the girl/girl action in her ex-boyfriend's porn movies. But that was all just idle fantasy. Just an appreciation of kink and female beauty...
Wasn't it?
Lorelei's head tilted curiously. "Shannon," she said, "have you caught yourself feeling or acting... out of character at all?"
That was more than Shannon could ignore. Her only concern now was of self-defense. "I'm not exactly ready to, uh, entertain visitors right now," she said.
Lorelei immediately held up her hand to the blonde without even turning around to her. Rachel's mouth had opened, but at Lorelei's gesture it closed again without comment. "You wish to get dressed, I imagine. I understand. We'll wait out here."
"Two minutes. Maybe three." With that, Shannon shut the door and threw the deadbolt.
Lorelei turned to a frowning Rachel. "Your one-liners would not get us through the door to talk to her."
Rachel folded her arms over her chest. "Doesn't mean they wouldn't be funny," she pouted.
* * *
"...so I started rescue breathing, or at least I was about to, but then I sort of passed out," Shannon explained. She sat in her plush living room chair—the one Kevin had bent her over just last night—with a coffee mug in her hands. Blue jeans and an old grey top had replaced her bathrobe. For all the comfort of the chair, her posture wasn't at all relaxed. "When I woke up, something like fifteen or twenty minutes had gone by and there was a cop I'd never met standing over me."
"That's the guy who just did the walk of shame," said Rachel. She sat on the couch beside Lorelei, directly across from Shannon's chair.
Even the way the two sat contrasted sharply. Rachel slumped back against the sofa cushions without a care for ladylike manners. Lorelei exuded the sort of practiced elegance that made perfect posture seem completely natural. There was no prim and proper snobbishness to her, either. For all Lorelei's masterful etiquette, nothing she said or did put herself above anything in her surroundings—except, of course, for the slight, disapproving frown she turned on her companion.
"Ugh. Yeah," Shannon sighed, putting one hand to her face. "That's about the size of it, actually. I mean I only just met him, and last night I called him up and... and initiated everything," she forced herself to admit.
"I take it that is not ordinary for you?"
"No! Not at all."
"You should consider that there is nothing wrong with taking the initiative," Lorelei noted, and once more held up a preemptive finger to Rachel's inevitable remark. "You excel in a field commonly dominated by men. You know you are the equal of any man at your job. You are independent. Surely you don't feel that it is a woman's place to wait on a man when it comes to dating? Or to sex?"
Shannon blushed a bit at the last. "No. No, I know all that up here," she answered, pointing to her head, "but that doesn't mean I'm comfortable taking the lead. At least not usually. Felt totally natural last night, though."
"I realize this must be uncomfortable as a topic," Lorelei prefaced gently, "and I will not pry for details, but... was there an unusual energy for you last night with your companion?"
"Yes. I mean I really do like him."
"Not like that. Did you bang him all night long?" sighed Rachel. "Literally all night to the point that you should've both been broken husks?" Lorelei winced, but Rachel paid it no mind. "Did you both get off over and over without having to rest? And you just went at it beyond all ordinary sense?"
Shannon stared at the floor. She swallowed hard. "Yes."
Rachel threw a sour look at the woman beside her. "She's a fuckin' paramedic. She deals with blood and guts and puke all the time. You don't have to be so delicate."
"Look, can you just tell me what's going on?" Shannon asked finally.
"Please understand that we only suspect we know what has happened to you. Details help us create a firmer explanation. Shannon, have you seen any physical changes in yourself?"
"Yes. I don't know. I might be imagining it. But every time I look in the mirror, it's like I've gotten... prettier. Shapelier. I work out regularly, and I've never thought I was ugly, but everything looks different now. I haven't weighed myself yet, but I'm sure I've lost a few pounds, and I've toned up. My skin is smoother. Clothes feel like they fit differently."
"And have you had any memories that seem out of place? Dreams? Visions?"
The answer didn't come right away. "Yeah, kind of. I had some dream last night about being a princess, I think? Not like a fairy tale, but historical. Something in Europe. I'm not a history buff, but it all looked medieval." She noticed the obvious interest in the eyes of her visitors. "I was pretty. I was all dolled up. There was a party or something, we had guests, and I think I was supposed to marry one of them. My father or whoever was arranging it. I wasn't happy, but I had a way out."
"What did you do?" Lorelei asked. Her tone hinted that she already knew the answer.
"I... I snuck out of my room, and found my fiancé's... staff? Bodyguards? I don't know. He was a prince or something, too, and he had an entourage. I met with them, and I... I had sex with them. And we got caught, and it led to a whole huge mess." Shannon paused. "I think there was fighting. People died over it. But not me."
Lorelei frowned and nodded. She turned her eyes to Rachel. "Serena," she said.
Rachel looked as if she might leap up and yell, "Touchdown!" but glanced at Shannon again and quickly clamped down on her elation. Her fists came down to her knees. She bit her lip. Rather than cheering or howling, Rachel merely muttered, "I am such a badass."
"Shannon, the woman who fell in front of your ambulance yesterday was named Serena," explained Lorelei. "I am fairly familiar with her. For a very long time, she and I had a great deal in common, and none of it good."
"...okay?"
"She was a murderer and a manipulator. She destroyed lives at the bidding of others and for her own amusement, and she was wholly unrepentant. You should feel no guilt or remorse for her fate."
It hung in the air for a long breath. Shannon asked, "You have all that in common with her?"
"I am not wholly unrepentant."
Shannon swallowed hard. "Oh." Her hand went to her coffee mug, which she now thought of more as a weapon than a wake-up aid. "So what happened to her?"
"I punched her bitch ass off the roof of that apartment building," Rachel answered with no small amount of pride.
"It is more complicated than that," cautioned Lorelei, who saw Shannon's eyes widen and her jaw clench. "This will get more shocking, and I apologize for that, Shannon," she continued, "but there is unfortunately only one way to effectively help you understand. Again, you are in no danger from us."
"Uh-huh."
"You may want to put the coffee mug down."
"I'm good, thanks."
"Very well," Lorelei said. And then she changed.
Shannon hadn't blinked. She was sure of that. But in exactly that amount of time, Lorelei suddenly looked quite different. Her perfect, smooth skin went almost crimson. Small black horns jutted from just under her hairline. Black, featherless wings appeared at her back, rising up from her shoulders and seeming to fade into the couch and wall behind her in an odd, ghostly effect. Her beauty remained, but now took on a deadly edge.
"Nice," Rachel smirked.
"What the fuck!?" Shannon blurted, rising to her feet and cocking the coffee mug bag as if to throw it.
Lorelei looked on placidly. "This is what I am, Shannon. What you saw before is a second form—not exactly an illusion, but not entirely the truth, either. This is my true visage. I will not harm you. But you must understand, Shannon: I am a demon, just as you see me now. I am a succubus."
"You—um—wait—uh..." Shannon pointed at Rachel. "What about her?"
"Pff. Fuck, no," Rachel scoffed. "No way."
"You could show her, Rachel."
"I'm not gonna just show her! Get real."
"Well what the fuck is—" Shannon pointed at Lorelei "—one of those?"
"The succubae are demons of seduction and lust," explained Lorelei—who once again had to interrupt Rachel's answer with a sharp gesture. "We play on the desires of mortals. We are made to manipulate and draw mortals into their doom through temptation and carnal overindulgence. Shannon, the woman who died under your care yesterday was, like myself, a succubus. Unlike me, however, she still served Hell. I do not. You are safe from me."
"You don't look safe," scowled the shocked host.
"Would you prefer my previous image?"
"Kinda, yeah?"
Even before Lorelei finished her nod, she looked entirely human again. "I show you this because what I have to tell you goes beyond much of your understanding about your world. I must explain matters that will sound like superstition and magic to you, but they are quite real. And you cannot afford a lengthy process of overcoming your natural doubts."
"Okay, well... well what the fuck!?" Shannon demanded. "Just come out with it already, huh? What the hell does all this have to do with me?"
"That demon yesterday died right in front of you, yeah?" Rachel broke in. Her snarky tone was gone. "Well, demons don't really die. Not like that, anyway. You were trying to help her, and you put your mouth on hers right when she let out her last breath. That was supposed to be her soul fucking off to Hell so she could reconstitute in a new body and come back in another couple decades. Instead, she went straight into you."
None of this settled Shannon's nerves. She remained on her feet, ready to hurl her mug and lock herself in the bathroom where she could call 911 on her cell phone. She'd have to simply say these were two crazy women in her apartment, and she'd have to leave out the part about Lorelei turning red and demony, but at least she would have sane people around her.
"So wait, you're saying I'm possessed?" Shannon frowned.
"No," Rachel shook her head. "You're too benevolent. You aren't vulnerable to that sort of bullshit. And you'd be acting differently now. There's still too much of you in there and in control."
"Rachel is correct," said Lorelei. "Possession is not exactly in the repertoire of the succubae. But you do carry her spirit, and it has clearly affected you."
Shannon's throwing arm came down a bit. At the very least, she couldn't ignore what she'd seen with her own two eyes, and she had been acting oddly. "So what's that mean for me, then? Am I gonna... am I gonna become one of those things?"
"I assure you, I am not a 'thing,'" Lorelei corrected patiently. "I am not human or mortal, but I am as much a person as you or Rachel.
"Your situation is unique. When we tell you that Serena's spirit escaped into you, that is only a theory. It is an inexact explanation for something that neither of us have seen happen before. But when a demon dies—barring certain exceptions—the spirit escapes to Hell, as Rachel has stated. Given time, the spirit forms a new body. In this case, you seem to have absorbed Serena's spirit as it escaped, or at least some substantial portion of it. You have interrupted the process.
"If this meant you would be possessed, or if she could overcome you somehow, your behavior would be markedly different. Rachel and I would see demonic features that you do not bear. The changes you have described show that some degree of Serena's power is at work. I suspect, however, that as long as her spirit resides within you, her consciousness will remain inert."
"Ohmygod," Shannon blinked. She tried to process all of that. "Can you get it out?"
"That's part of what we have to talk about," answered Rachel. "Listen, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but... putting Serena out of business is kind of a big deal. I mean she's not the baddest succubus ever, but she's a major player in her scene, right? And as long as her spirit is stuck inside you, she's off the board. If she'd died normally, she'd have just come back in a couple decades like we said. She'd run around being a murdering, life-ruining twat again. But now, she's off the grid for at least as long as you live."
"Which may be quite a long time," Lorelei added. "Longer than an ordinary mortal might reasonably expect."
That made Shannon blink. "What do you mean?"
"Shannon... you may find that your predicament brings far more benefits than drawbacks. As I said, you carry within you much of the power of a demon, but you are not one yourself."
"What does that mean? What power?"
"Well, you ain't gonna die of disease or from bein' an old fart, that's for sure," Rachel smirked. She looked away as if staring through one wall. "Fuck. I'm gonna have to bail. Duty calls."
"What duty? Are you a demon, too?"
The blonde just snorted. "Fuck, no. Listen, Shannon, I'm sorry if I came off bitchy. Seriously. I'm just linguistically challenged." For the first time, Lorelei let out a bit of a snicker, but regained her composure when Rachel shot her a glare. Then she continued. "Just hear Lorelei out, and if you feel like this is too much for you, say so. We might be able to get you an exorcism or something. But as long as she's stuck in there," Rachel said, pointing at Shannon's heart, "she can't do anything to hurt anyone. You're a good person. Practically anything you do with that power is gonna be better than what Serena would do with it. Okay?"
"How do you know all this about me?" Shannon asked.
"I just know," Rachel grinned. "Have faith." She turned toward one wall—the opposite side of which led to the empty air outside Shannon's fourth-floor apartment. But then Rachel shined with a white light, and Shannon caught a glimpse of her halo and her broad white wings before Rachel literally walked through the wall.
Shannon's jaw dropped. "What—is she really—"
"A grandstanding showoff? Yes," Lorelei smiled.
Silence reigned as Shannon overcame her shock. Lorelei waited patiently.
Then Rachel stepped back through the wall and faced Lorelei. "Hey, if I leave you alone with her, are you gonna do what I think you'll do?"
"We have discussed this sort of thing."
"Yeah, but—I'm just saying."
"I will follow my own judgment. You know the rules that bind me," Lorelei reminded her calmly. "You agreed to them. Does any of this change your position?"
Rachel's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Shannon watched without interruption, trying to piece together what the two were talking about. The wings and halo had her more than a little distracted. "No," Rachel answered, though with a reluctant tone.
Lorelei shook her head. "Speak your mind. If you have concerns or objections, voice them."
That seemed to do the trick between the two of them. Rachel just nodded. "Guess you gotta be you," she said, more with wry amusement than venom. She tossed a casual salute toward Shannon and then went out through the wall again.
"What does she think you're going to do?" Shannon asked.
"Advise you to explore your new state," Lorelei shrugged. "Encourage you to indulge. Help you adjust. Shannon, I do not blame you for your trepidation or your guarded state. But I will not hurt you. If there is anything I could do to alleviate your nerves, you have but to tell me."
Shannon frowned, more at herself than anything else. She came back around the chair and sat down again, putting the coffee cup on the small stand beside it. "So what do you mean by all that? Indulging? You said you kill men by sleeping with them?"
"Not anymore," Lorelei corrected. "Nor will you. At least, not if you are careful. Shannon, I must be blunt. Your appetites will grow. You will desire the attention and lust of others. This power you now carry isn't something you can simply ignore or hide. You must use it for your own good and for the good of all whom Serena would harm were she to escape you.
"If I am correct in my expectations, you will find yourself healthier and even stronger because of this. As Rachel said, you may never catch another cold for the rest of your life, let alone anything worse. But your real power lay in the desires of mortals. You'll be able to read them. Steer them, at least partially. And you'll derive strength from indulging your own."
"What's the catch?" Shannon asked.
"Your hunger will go beyond anything reasonable for a mortal. You will have to adjust and learn to manage it. You are also almost certainly infertile; the touch of Hell has such an effect on the body." She paused, noting that Shannon merely shrugged her last statement off without much trouble. Then she laid out her next warning. "Monogamy may no longer be an option for you."
"Because I could kill whoever I'm with?"
"If you are not careful, yes. Passion does not often lend itself well to delicate decisions. Or self-denial."
"How do you manage it? You said you don't kill anyone anymore."
"My situation is unique, as is yours. What works for me will likely not help you. I, too, must be careful... but I have vastly more experience than you."
Shannon wasn't sure she liked what she heard. She wasn't sure she disliked it, either, and that bothered her even more. "So you're saying I'm going to turn into some raging slut?"
"Ask yourself why you use that word. It does not seem natural from your lips."
It stopped her train of thought cold. "Wh... what else would I say?"
"Ask yourself why your society frowns on a woman with an active sex life and multiple partners. There will be no issue of disease. There will be no unwanted pregnancy. Tell your partners that you are uninterested in being tied down and demand that they respect that. If they do not, walk away. If they are harmed, it will not be because you were dishonest with them. It will be because they deceived themselves, and that is not your concern. You need not harm anyone."
Shannon scoffed. "So, what, men are just going to throw themselves at me?"
"Quite possibly, yes. It will not be difficult at all for you to attract men. Women, too, if you like. Shannon, much of this comes down to raw confidence and magnetism, which you are already developing without thinking about it. As you said, last night's tryst was out of the ordinary for you, yet you initiated the whole thing, correct? You see your body changing and improving in line with your own ideals of beauty. You will need to get used to being the most desirable woman in the room. It's not a matter of ego; it's simple fact."
It seemed crazy, and yet Shannon believed her. Moreover, the notion excited her. She clamped down on that, not wanting to let the possibilities run away with her, but this was like someone waving a winning lottery ticket at her.
It also seemed too good to be true. "So I'm going to be what people want the most, but they can't have me for keeps? How is that not going to hurt people?"
"You are a person, not an object. No one gets to 'keep' or 'possess' you," Lorelei corrected. "As for the rest? People get hurt in relationships," she shrugged. "If you are a caring person, you will make what effort you can to be up front with your boundaries. But despite your ability to read and appeal to the desires of others, you cannot dictate their feelings. Nor should you."
It was a lot to take in. Shannon's thoughts drifted. "...I've never been attracted to women," she murmured.
"I think we both know that's not true," Lorelei said quietly. Shannon's eyes lifted toward hers. "I have walked this path for centuries, Shannon. Rachel has her talent for reading people, and I have mine. I have known since you decided to allow us in."
"That wasn't—I mean I didn't—you—uh..."
"You are a very attractive woman, Shannon." Her voice dropped. Her gaze held Shannon's, causing the younger woman's heart to race. "Intelligent. Independent. Brave. As Rachel said, you are a benevolent soul. I have learned recently to appreciate the appeal of compassion and charity." Lorelei's breathing seemed to deepen, too, judging from the sound of her voice and the rise and fall of her alluring chest. "You did not allow me into your home because of my saintly aura."
Shannon's emotions stirred. So did her desires. Every nerve and muscle seemed ready to throw herself out of her chair and on top of this woman she had just met. She trembled in her seat, unable to admit just how good the moment felt.
"We could alleviate the tension between us, Shannon," Lorelei said. It seemed more like an observation than an offer. And yet...
"Is this what you mean by playing on peoples' desires?" Shannon managed to ask.
"Mildly," Lorelei nodded. Her tone grew solemn, but her smoldering gaze remained. "You see that you have a choice, however. You feel that, don't you?" She waited for Shannon to respond with a nod. "If I make you uncomfortable, I could leave. We can always talk on the phone if you have more questions." She rose.
Shannon all but leapt to her feet. She reached out and touched Lorelei's hand, saying, "Please, don't go—!" and caught herself. She stared at Lorelei, who waited patiently. "Please stay," she said.
They looked at one another for a long moment.
"Do you want this? Do you want me?"
"Yes," Shannon admitted. She felt nervous. Exposed. Thrilled.
"And what do I want?" Lorelei asked. "Think it through. You have that power. I will not conceal it from you."
Shannon's eyes narrowed. Her hand didn't come off of Lorelei's. "You want me," she murmured. "You could walk away without any worries. You have a lover," she continued, understanding the source of Lorelei's composure and confidence despite her obvious desire. "You have a lover and you're devoted to... him? But he's okay with this sort of thing. Am I right?"
Lorelei nodded. "With other women, yes. He is young. Given time, he may be less concerned about other men. He knows what I am, and that he will not lose me. If his feelings do not change, I will not be bothered."
Shannon's hand slid up Lorelei's arm. Her skin felt amazingly smooth and inviting. Shannon couldn't deny the thrill of flirting so openly with another woman, too. Yet it was more than flirting: she plainly knew where this would lead, and the anticipation excited her even more. "So is this naughty, or is this okay?"
"A little of both. I'll derive some enjoyment from taunting him about it," Lorelei smirked.
"Do I get to meet him?"
"No. I am at least that selfish."
"Must be a great guy to mean that much to you."
"He is."
"You said we can't limit ourselves to one partner without hurting them."
"I don't believe you can, at least for now," Lorelei corrected. "What I said was that my situation and yours are both unique." Her hand came up to the side of Shannon's head. Graceful fingers slid into her hair, lightly brushing her scalp with their nails. Shannon's breath grew audible.
"I've never been with another woman," Shannon murmured.
"Trust your instincts. I very much doubt I will know the difference," Lorelei said before she drew the younger woman in for a kiss.
Their lips touched tentatively at first, but both immediately wanted more. Neither of them rushed. Drawn together, the two repeated the brush of their lips several times, lingering longer and opening more with each heartbeat until Shannon and Lorelei's tongues met. They seemed to mirror and compliment one another smoothly.
Shannon felt the heat between them grow. More than one kind of heat, in fact: her body came alive with arousal, and Lorelei's as well, but she also understood now why she felt so differently about sex after yesterday. Her desire literally burned inside of her, compelling her to act, and anything she did to satisfy it—like kissing Lorelei, or seducing Kevin—made the burn comfortable, even delicious. Yet this time she didn't want raw passion and need. She enjoyed the sizzling tension between herself and her new partner and the slow build toward relief.
Lorelei was right about her instincts. Shannon felt the thrill of discovery as her body responded to her partner's touch, and as she explored Lorelei in turn. There was no sense of timidity, though, nor first time nerves. She knew what to do each step of the way... or, rather, everything she wanted to do hit all the right notes.
Gentle, safe exploration by hand accompanied the long bout of kissing, mostly staying to the arms, the shoulders and neck but enticing them both. Wordlessly, the pair agreed it was time for more. Their hands came down and joined together. Their eyes fluttered open. Both were ready to move on. The ritual feeling of it all excited Shannon.
"My room is a mess," she said. "I had a man with me last night. The bed is unmade."
"No apologies," Lorelei smiled. "This is what we are. Embrace it. Feel no shame on my account. Take pride in your charms."
Shannon couldn't help but flash her own excited smile. She knew exactly what Lorelei offered: physical pleasure and intimacy with no presumptions or demands. Open, comfortable acknowledgement of mutual lust. An experience with no price. Sex for the sake of sex.
She could get used to that very quickly.
Wanting to keep the controlled tension going, Shannon calmly led Lorelei into her bedroom. Her crimson comforter lay crumpled on the floor. She and Kevin had slept under the top sheet alone, warm enough just by one another's presence. Lorelei saw wet spots on her bed, and one pillow still sat stuffed behind the headboard to mitigate its banging against the wall. Emboldened by Lorelei's advice, she felt no shame over any of it. I had fun here last night. Check out the damage. Awesome, huh?
She turned back to Lorelei. The succubus brought her hands to Shannon's shoulders, slipping off one strap from her top, and then the other. Shannon watched her partner's eyes and hands as Lorelei slowly undressed her. Lorelei's touch became bolder, mapping the curves of Shannon's body as she pushed the top up and over Shannon's head and arms. She stood mutely as Lorelei unfastened and unzipped her jeans, and looked down while Lorelei bent and slowly brought them to the floor.
Her excitement stepped up another notch when Lorelei stepped in and brought her arms around Shannon to unclasp her bra. She felt her breasts up against Lorelei's and let out a heavy breath as the garment fell away. Lorelei paused to stroke and cup her breasts, drawing a moan of delight. Eventually her fingertips slid downward again, this time hooking under Shannon's panties to draw them downward. Lorelei paused there, too, inhaling the scent of her new partner.
Even months into her previous relationships, Shannon felt self-conscious about her body. She had nothing to be embarrassed about, and knew it, but had been raised with a strong dose of modesty. Now she stood naked and openly aroused by a stranger—a woman, no less—and felt nothing but confidence and pride.
Then it was Shannon's turn. Lorelei knew just how to stand, how to entice and tempt while doing absolutely nothing at all. Though Shannon did not quite take as much time in undressing Lorelei as her partner had, she took as much if not greater joy in the process. Every revelation of skin made Shannon want more as she removed Lorelei's top to discover a lacy black bra, then unzipped her skirt and left it pooled at the beauty's feet to reveal black lace garters and stockings framing her silk panties.
"You wear these for your lover, don't you?" Shannon grinned.
"And now for you," Lorelei nodded. "And always for me. Your body is a treasure. Enjoy it. Enjoy sharing it."
Shannon did nothing to cover her open admiration and lust. "I never wore stuff like this. Didn't want men thinking I was their toy."
"Give it a try sometime," Lorelei suggested, stepping in and dropping her voice to intimate levels. "You might like it. Know that you are always more than just a toy, and let no one forget it... but there can be great fun in being that, too."
"I've always been afraid," Shannon murmured, still touching and feasting her eyes on this magnificent woman just inches away. "I was afraid I'd lose who I am."
"Be whoever you want to be now, Shannon. All on your own terms. You can change a role as easily as changing clothes. I will show you."
Shannon grinned. "Later?"
"Much later," Lorelei said before they kissed once more.
The embrace felt so much better with fewer clothes. Shannon wanted to slide as much of her skin against Lorelei's as she could. She wanted to look at her and touch every bit of her all at once. As if to emphasize her suggestion, Lorelei took a passive approach; she stood and enjoyed, wordlessly offering herself to Shannon in any way the redhead wished.
Shannon took full advantage. Her hands roamed Lorelei's body, stroking and then clutching her ass as she kissed the succubus. She reached up and kneaded her breasts without removing the bra, eliciting a soft moan of approval. Eventually, this was not enough, and Shannon unfastened the garment and tossed it away. Confronted with the beauty of Lorelei's chest, Shannon took one knee, and then another, and soon kissed another woman's breasts for the first time in her life. Soft but firm flesh welcomed her touch. Erect nipples offered themselves to Shannon's tongue.
She liked it more than she expected. Lorelei responded wonderfully, placing her hands on Shannon's head and shoulders. The older woman exuded submission. Shannon had no doubt that Lorelei could leave her in a pleading, whimpering pile of surrender with little effort, but Shannon learned through direct experience what Lorelei meant about playing different roles.
She wanted this. She wanted new partners, new experiences and new roles. If that made her a slut in the eyes of others, so be it—they would not get to enjoy Shannon's charms.
The most beautiful woman Shannon had ever met quivered in her arms and under her kiss. Shannon toyed with her, one hand stroking Lorelei's inner thighs and teasing at her center. The garter eventually came free. Shannon knelt and slipped Lorelei's panties away and was rewarded with an intoxicating scent of sex.
She stood, finding the eyes of an equal before her now rather than those of a sex toy. Shannon gestured invitingly to her bed. Lorelei nodded, and the two lay side by side in an embrace that indulged both of their welcoming bodies.
Sensual pleasure rose with every moment of contact. Shannon thought she might climax just from that, but then it was her turn to be toyed with. As Lorelei's tongue invaded her mouth, Shannon felt the nipple of her breast pushed and then pinched between her partner's fingers. She had to open her mouth even wider to moan into Lorelei's kiss.
Then Lorelei's thigh came between Shannon's legs. She was impossibly wet, ready for just about anything, and now this smooth, soft, perfect skin began to slide and grind over her labia. Overwhelmed by the sensation, Shannon's muscles involuntarily tensed all over her body. She wanted more. Lorelei knew it, and obliged.
Eventually, Shannon grew accustomed enough to the pleasure to regain some control. Lorelei's own sex was just as exposed to Shannon; the redhead shifted, knowing just what to do as much from immediate experience as from instinct. She heard Lorelei's breathing change and knew she'd found a way to return the favor.
Their first orgasm built and arrived from this contact alone. Shannon's whole body shook. She and Lorelei came together, riding out their spasms together and basking in one another's arms.
She should have been spent. She should have needed time to recover. Instead, "Oh God, I want more," whimpered the younger woman. "I need more!"
"As do I," assured Lorelei. Her kiss smothered the rest of Shannon's pleas. Her hand trailed down Shannon's center, and as she could form no words while occupied with Lorelei's lips the redhead could only beg with panting breath.
Hyper-sensitive and receptive to every touch, Shannon noticed a change in the feeling of Lorelei's fingertips while they slowly moved from her shoulder to her groin. She was sure, in fact, that Lorelei wanted her to feel it: her fingernails literally shrank. By the time Shannon felt the other woman's touch pass through her thin bush and reach her wet lips, Lorelei's fingertips felt perfectly rounded.
Those fingertips played with her flesh. They teased her, tortured her and left her pleading in soft moans before the first of them finally invaded her. Lorelei broke off her kiss so Shannon could cry out. The succubus knew exactly how to touch her. Shannon felt a thumb glide gently over her clit while Lorelei's finger bent in a hook and stroked the most sensitive spot within.
Orgasm came on quickly, rushed more by Shannon's feelings of complete vulnerability to her partner than by physical stimulation. Lorelei brought her through the spasms, still focusing her attention on Shannon's sex, and continued her expert strokes even while Shannon cooled down. Her mouth came to Shannon's breast to kiss and pinch her nipple with pleasing lips. All Shannon could do was writhe and moan and enjoy.
Ecstasy obscured the passage of time. Shannon laid there forever under Lorelei's sway, held just a short, blissful distance from another climax. Perhaps it was only minutes. Perhaps it was hours. Over and over, her eyes drifted open to drink in the sight of her beautiful partner and her own lovely body and then closed once more just to focus on the sensation.
"Good God, Lorelei," Shannon smiled, "you're ruining me for anyone else."
"No," Lorelei replied. "I'm freeing you."
Lorelei's kiss slid down Shannon's body. Enthralled and pleasured far beyond her experience already, Shannon couldn't believe there was more to anticipate, but now she saw and felt Lorelei's face slide closer to her sex. Their eyes met once more. Shannon nearly opened her mouth to beg for it, but before she could give voice to her need Lorelei's tongue descended onto Shannon's wet lips.
She cried out loudly. Shannon threw her head back into her pillow and gripped her sheets. Lorelei's first light lick was followed by another, and then by a third, and soon her oral attentions became much more direct and encompassing. Shannon felt herself devoured by the older woman. Again, she nearly crested, but before that satisfaction was reached Lorelei shifted into a new pleasure: her tongue invaded Shannon, thick and dexterous and perfect.
Shannon enjoyed a long, relentless ride and finally came harder and longer than ever. Her orgasm rippled through her whole body, from her center to her legs and shoulders and wrists.
Only then did Lorelei allow Shannon any respite. "There is more power in you than I expected," said the succubus. "More of hers... and more of your own."
"What does that mean?" Shannon asked, her voice high and breathless.
"Only good things, for you," Lorelei smiled. "Embrace your appetites. They may seem new or strange, but the more you indulge, the stronger you will become. You are no demon, nor are you immortal... but you have power beyond the natural gifts of mortal man or woman."
"Lorelei, your hands. Your fingers changed. Your nails."
"Yes. I can look quite different if I so choose. Some is pure illusion. Some is actual physical change."
"Can I do that?"
"To some extent, you already do. As you said, you have seen change within yourself. Your abilities will not be as potent as mine, but we could experiment,," Lorelei winked.
Shannon grinned. The thought excited her. "You mean I can change what I look like?"
"Yes," nodded Lorelei. "Still human. Still a woman." Her hands roamed Shannon's body, shamelessly enjoying her breasts, her hips and her thighs. "You can be anyone you want to be."
A shiver ran through the redhead. "Later?"
"Of course."
"I want more of you, Lorelei. I want to taste you."
The succubus smiled broadly. She shifted on the bed. "Then let's see what you've learned," she said, and turned over Shannon to swing one lovely leg over the younger woman's head. The other took up the opposite side, and Shannon reached up to touch those perfect hips and bring Lorelei's sex to her mouth while Lorelei's lips descended on Shannon's own.
Seduction was never something Shannon thought one could taste until that moment. Honey and heat and temptation welcomed Shannon's mouth, and then a jolt of pleasure ran through her body as Lorelei's tongue invaded her again. She knew they would be at this for hours.
Wanting to give Lorelei the same treatment, Shannon thought about shaping her own tongue into something similar and probed her partner's flesh. It was easier than she thought, and the sudden jerk of Lorelei's body over hers told her how effective it was.
Perhaps Shannon hadn't wanted this. Perhaps she would have turned it down had she ever been given a choice. But now that she had this power and these desires, she found that she loved it.
* * *
The woman in Shannon's mirror looked very much like her, but she was still a stranger.
Lorelei remained for much of the day. For hours, they made love for its own sake. Shannon didn't really know whether to call it that. Romance would not come of this, but physical familiarity and openness grew into affection of a sort. Moreover, Lorelei coached Shannon on the new conditions of her life. They discussed Shannon's probable abilities, the implications of their use, and the importance of exploring her newfound desires.
Friends and family would still recognize her, but they would see a change. None would ever see her naked like this, though; they would not see her alluring, shapely breasts, or the perfect curves of her hips and the exquisite muscle tone she now enjoyed from head to toe. Shannon's skin had never looked so good. She could make a lot of money modeling with this body. Modeling, or other things.
That her mind went to such places bothered her slightly. Lorelei had taken very good care of her—and so had Kevin before her, to be fair—but even with her fires cooled for the moment, she knew this hunger would stay with her for life. The hunger didn't bother her, and that was what did concern her. Shannon had never judged others for promiscuous choices, but they never held any appeal for her. Now her attitude had reversed fully, and she couldn't see a single drawback—as long as it could be compartmentalized properly.
Her self-worth would not be dictated by how many people lusted after her, or how many men and women she bedded. Shannon was a damn good paramedic. She saved lives. She helped people.
She was also now undeniably sexy. Perhaps she always had been lovely and her natural shyness and introversion prevented her from enjoying that. Perhaps not. But now it was very much like a switch had been flipped by magic. She had the goods, and the confidence to show them off.
She wanted to show off. She longed to be desired. Needed it, even, as much as she had needed to follow the path that put her in an ambulance tending the sick and injured. This need, though, she could deny to herself... but to what end?
Shannon wanted to explore it, and enjoy it. She didn't want it to become all that defined her.
Lorelei's words echoed in her head: "You can be anyone you want to be."
Shannon's hand reached up to her head. She watched herself as her fingers worked their way to the roots of a lock of hair, and ran along its length from her scalp to the very ends. As the hair passed between her fingers and thumb, it turned from straight and red to wavy and brown and grew two more inches.
Shannon stared at herself in the mirror. Her brown eyes turned blue. "Anyone I want to be," she said to her reflection.
* * *
"Sexy cop. Ridiculous. Sexy secretary. Cliché and sad. Sexy schoolgirl. Gross." Julie tacked off the costumes in the line both in front and behind her with her companion.
"I know, right?" snickered Patricia. Like Julie, she was dolled up for the show, but not in any sort of costume. Normal street clothes were good enough for the two of them. They waited along with a good many others to be let inside the venue. "Guess that's why they call it 'Whoreloween.'"
"Oh, whatever," scoffed Patricia's husband. Doug threw his cigarette into the wet gutter by the sidewalk. "People have taken that whole thing too far. At this point, any costume a woman wears on Halloween gets labeled 'too sexy' unless she's covered head to toe like a nun. And people would call the nun outfit a fetish piece, too."
"That's because nun's outfits are pervy," countered Julie. "Besides, you're just saying that because you like the skin show."
"Yeah, I dunno. The schoolgirl outfit always kinda creeped me out, too," agreed Tim. Julie's date leaned over her shoulder to break into the conversation. "I mean it kinda speaks to all sorts of misplaced childhood frustration, doesn't it?"
"Such a line," Doug said with a roll of his eyes.
"No, seriously," Julie pressed. "You know what kind of fantasies that caters to. Might as well just put up a sign that says, 'Molest Me,' right?"
Unexpectedly, the woman in the lab coat in line just in front of them turned to face the trio. She wore thin red-rimmed glasses over an exceptionally beautiful face, with her brown hair tied up tightly in the back. A stethoscope hung around her neck. "So if you're going to make a clean sweep of all your slut-shaming, you wanna include me, too?" the 'doctor' asked. "I'm starting to feel left out."
Patricia and Julie blinked. So did Tim. They thought they had been fairly quiet, and none of them expected any sort of confrontation out of this. "Uh," stammered Julie, "you don't look like a slut."
The doctor's red lips turned in a frown. She calmly put her hands in the pockets of her lab coat and let their weight push it open. It was only then that the three saw her substantial white bra, her thin, too-short white skirt and the white garters descending from underneath to hold up her white lace stockings. The doctor's body was nothing short of amazing. All four of her onlookers were stunned.
"So here's the thing: right now, you're all staring at me and deciding I'm a slut," the doctor said. "You have no idea who I am or what I'm like. All you see is that I look good and I've decided to show it off. I'm not here to steal your dates. I've got nothing to do with you at all, but you're bothered by how I dress. Are you afraid someone's going to expect you to live up to my example?"
Julie tried to form words. Patricia didn't even bother. She just turned red and looked down at her feet. She wasn't used to confrontation. Doug and Tim simply kept looking on in awe.
"And if you did get that sort of expectation from someone," Shannon went on, "is there some reason you couldn't just tell them to go to hell and do your own thing? Or is it just safer to drag down the women who do get a kick out of it instead?"
"I just..." Julie tried. "Look, you can't dress like that and not expect to get that kind of a reaction."
Shannon tilted her head curiously. "Why the fuck not? Other than the fact that your low expectations of men validate their bad behavior, why should I expect to be harassed? Any guy I'm interested in flirting with is gonna know it. I've absolutely got the right to walk into that club or down that street without anyone giving me a hard time. So does the woman in the schoolgirl outfit."
"Uh, excuse me, Miss? Er, doctor?" called out a guy in a Starfleet uniform shirt standing behind Shannon's stunned audience. "The line's moving."
"Oh. Thank you," she smiled after looking over her shoulder. Her attention returned to Julie and her friends. "Raise your game, people. Seriously. You're not helping." With that she turned and headed off into the club.
The rush of the moment caught up with her. Confrontation had never been high on her list of hobbies. Two nights ago, Shannon would likely still have bristled at the snarky commentary behind her—shy or not, it wasn't like she bought into that sort of thinking—but turning and telling complete strangers to stuff it wasn't exactly her style. It wasn't anywhere close. Even now, she felt the echoes of her old self wondering if she shouldn't apologize, or at least feel some guilt for her sudden rant and the embarrassment those women probably felt.
But then she came to the front doors of the venue and realized she still had neither a plan nor a ticket. The booth had been closed when she arrived; as she expected, the Halloween show was sold out. Shannon came out anyway, hoping for a last-minute ticket release before the show began, but failing that, she figured she could... what? Bat her eyelashes at the doorman?
No. Unacceptable. She carried a demon's lust within her, but that didn't mean she wanted to seduce or screw her way through all her problems. Interested in finding a playmate for the evening though she was, Shannon had no intention of solving every problem through sex.
"Ticket?" asked the muscular man past the door. He held out his hand. Shannon's good looks seemed either lost upon him or irrelevant. She knew she shouldn't be surprised. Bouncers and doormen here probably saw a parade of hot women every night.
"I don't have one," Shannon shook her head. "I was hoping... are you going to do a last minute release at all? I couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone earlier, so I just waited in line."
"No," the doorman shook his head. "No more tickets tonight. Sold out."
Shannon bit her lip. She tried to think of an acceptable approach, but found herself rejecting them. She sighed. "It's cool. Guess I'll find another party tonight."
"Ramon! Hey, Ramon!" called a voice from just beyond the doorman. He glanced over his shoulder. Shannon looked, too, and spotted a lovely young woman in a green plaid sexy schoolgirl's outfit. "You should let her in. She just saved a couple snotty bitches from severe trauma outside."
Ramon looked back to her with a cocked eyebrow. Shannon just shrugged. "Well," she said coolly, "I am a doctor."
* * *
It couldn't have worked out better if she'd planned it.
Shannon made it into the venue just before the first band finished its set. The men she had come to see were only now setting up, with canned music playing over the PA in the interim. Shannon adored Rockerdammerung as much for their music as for their self-deprecating humor. Brad couldn't stand them, for reasons Shannon never understood. He refused to go to every show with Shannon, going so far as to put on a sullen pity party if she dared to go without him.
Come to think of it, Shannon considered, Brad got sullen whenever she did anything without him. Maybe that was why she didn't feel bad about losing him.
Freed from concern for his fine feelings and enjoying the hell out of the show, Shannon regretted ever having settled for her now-ex. She almost wanted to send him a text to than him for dumping her before this show rather than after Halloween... but she had better things to do at the moment.
Getting close to the stage turned out to be easier than any task she'd faced all night. Letting her white lab coat fall open once more, Shannon strutted through a crowd that quickly parted for her like the Red Sea. She caught stares and double-takes, knowing all along that the sudden interruptions of conversations or laughter were because of her, and she loved every second of it. No one bothered her, or even approached her.
Every step of the way, Shannon felt the lust of men and more than a few of the women around her. All her life, she'd been reluctant even to go out in a swimsuit. Now she couldn't get enough of this feeling. It was less about her body than about her confidence. She knew that. But she also knew that she had the body to back everything up now. Her presence was such that it actually prevented many men from approaching her. Apparently she intimidated more than a few of them.
That was fine with her. She had only one specific man in mind tonight.
She felt almost giddy with excitement. She felt electric. She felt nourished, and hungry at the same time. Powerful and yet wanting more. She felt aroused—deeply, deliciously aroused, by her own intentions as much as the desires of the people around her.
Good God, she thought, if I feel like this now, how would I feel if I took it further?
* * *
They really needed new monitor speakers.
Michael resolved to replace the band's current gear upon his next paycheck. They'd limped along this far, but now the band was starting to headline significant local shows and attract real interest. Even being here tonight was a milestone; they might not be at the top of the bill, but they were only one step down from Throbbing Ennui. A good many people came tonight specifically for Rockerdammerung. It was time to invest in more reliable equipment.
But until he had the money to invest, it was time for duct tape.
The tall, lanky singer and rhythm guitarist stomped out on a mostly-darkened stage to secure the cables into their loose and crappy plugs. Everyone else was about ready to go. He only needed a moment. The music from the venue's speakers rose, letting everyone know that Rockerdammerung would kick off their set soon.
"...these guys aren't even that original," claimed an unnecessarily loud voice from the front. The club was not so crowded that a safety space had to be cleared from the front of the stage. Audience members could practically reach out and touch it. Michael usually liked that aspect of the venue, but suddenly it brought with it unpleasant consequences.
"All the themes in their songs, the chords they play, the tones—they're just another Goth band. They're so stuck in their genre that they're not even anything new within Goth. They're, like, retro-Goth. Only they think they're funny, too, so they're demeaning to their own core audience."
Michael almost dropped the tape in his hands. What the hell? That doesn't even make any sense! Still bent over the monitor speaker, Michael's eyes lifted up to look out through his dangling black locks of hair at the crowd at the foot of the stage.
"Well, still," voiced a woman who instinctively spoke as loudly as her companion, "they've got a great name, right?"
"What, Rockerdammerung? It's ironic, but irony's for hipsters, not Goths. But they're not exactly German or even 'rockers.' The singer and the drummer are just IT guys from Redmond," came the disdainful reply. "Not sure how 'rocker' you can be when you're contracting for Microsoft."
There. Michael spotted the critic right near the front of the crowd. Checkered shirt, thick black-rimmed glasses that probably didn't even hold prescription lenses and a grey wool cap that he wore even in the warmth of the crowded club. And then Michael recognized him; he was part of another band, one not even playing tonight. Explodo. Check us out, we're so ironic.
His date wore one of those horrid semi-sexy My Little Pony costumes. That just made Michael hate him more.
Don't take the bait, Michael told himself. Don't engage. Don't engage. Just ignore him. One random jackass. Just focus on your show. Focus on your... holy shit.
Behind the critic and his date, the crowd seemed to open up all on its own. Michael saw her move with confident grace. The doctor in the lab coat and lace stockings just walked up and smiled, leaving even the guitarist from Explodo momentarily stunned.
She made eye contact with Michael. Her gaze held his as she arrived at the foot of the stage. Her quiet smile threatened to hypnotize him.
Someone slapped him on his back. "Hey, Michael, we set?" asked Jared.
"Uh, yeah! Yeah," Michael blinked. He rose and turned his back on the doctor and the rest of the audience, though it required an act of will.
The bassist seemed to understand perfectly. "Jesus Christ," Jared muttered, "I thought doctors were supposed to treat heart attacks, not give 'em. Think she's seen us before?"
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice boomed over the speakers. Michael and Jared looked at one another, shrugged and turned back to the audience and waited. The stage went dark, but they could see the crowd just fine under red lights overhead. "Please welcome..."
The doctor raised her arms, throwing out goat horns with her hands and calling out along with the announcer and much of the crowd, "Rockerdammerung!"
Michael grinned widely as he hit the first chords. The doctor's eyes were still on him and threatened to never turn away. He faintly remembered being annoyed at something a moment ago, but whatever it was, he quickly forgot it. He stepped to the microphone to belt out the first lyrics of his song.
Thankfully, he remembered them.
* * *
Shannon watched Michael sway and sing on the stage above her. She found herself very much appreciating the rocker image as if she'd only now discovered it for the first time.
The singer didn't forget the rest of his audience, but she knew she had his attention. He practically sang the band's only serious ballad to her specifically. Michael played the part of front man well, engaging with many in the crowd and ensuring his bandmates received plenty of attention from all. He didn't hog the spotlight or grandstand. His words were all for the sum total of his band, and not for himself alone.
But when the final song ended, and when the rest of the band all stepped up to take their bow, Shannon saw Michael bend low, his hair dangling over his face and his blue eyes staring out at her.
She winked at him. Mirrored his hungry grin. Looked pointedly toward the back hallway. Then she stepped back from the stage. As the lights came up and the band set to breaking down and clearing out for the next act, Shannon slipped away. The crowd's attention shifted back toward the club's two bars.
Arriving in the small hallway leading toward the restrooms of the club—clean and orderly, unlike many other places Rockerdammerung had played—Shannon considered what she could do to bring things up to the next level after tonight. She wore very little as it was, and this club already invited a bawdy tone by virtue of its advertising and musical selection. What would go further than this? Stripping?
Shannon smiled to herself. That could be fun. Shannon had never looked down on those who did it, but she figured stripping was the sort of thing other women did. She always presumed it was a sort of last resort for those who could pull it off; sure, some women said they enjoyed it, and perhaps that was true, but how many simply lied to keep up appearances?
But now the thought of it rolled through Shannon's mind and she found it nothing short of delicious. She could have a good time. Feed her needs. And probably clean up financially while she was at it. And nobody even needed to know who she really was...
"Do you know how hard it is to come up with a good pick-up line when you can barely remember lyrics to songs you wrote yourself?" asked a deep, slightly amused voice.
Shannon leaned back on the wall, reminded of her near-nakedness as she felt her lab coat up against her not-entirely-covered ass. Her posture created some difference in their height. Normally she stood about as tall as Michael. Leaning back allowed the singer to loom over her. She wanted that. She wanted him to feel confident.
He had more than a little confidence all his own, as any good front man for a band must. But even so, Shannon detected a hint of nervousness when he looked at her. He hid it well, but either he didn't actually get much attention from women—which she found unlikely—or he recognized her as a cut above his usual fan base.
"I tried to sing along with you to help," Shannon told him. "I'm a fan. But I've seen you live a few times."
"Have you? I think I'd remember you."
"I've had a bit of a makeover recently," Shannon told him with a cool, graceful shrug. Her eyes looked up into his again. "But yes. I've seen you several times. Saw you in SoDo. Saw you at that charity thing in Tacoma. And on the side stage for Bumbershoot." Her smile grew sultry. "I saw you bring the crowd control guys onstage with you to sing that Sisters of Mercy cover."
She didn't think she could make him blush, but even in the dim lighting of the club she could see his cheeks grow red. "That was a good show."
"It was a good show," Shannon nodded. "You seem like a good guy. You don't take yourselves too seriously. I like that. That's part of why I wanted to meet you."
"Oh, so you've been stalking me?"
"Only for a couple of hours. Pretty sure it doesn't count as stalking if the victim likes it," she grinned, "though I could always take a walk if I make you uncomfortable."
"No, no, keep stalking," he chuckled. "What's your name?"
"Call me Sharon," said Shannon.
"I can do that."
"You aren't here with anyone, are you?"
"Just the band. Sorry to keep you waiting, but I couldn't leave them to pack up the gear all on their own. Even if they told me to."
"No, I respect that," Shannon nodded. He had some sense of priorities. She felt even better about this now.
"I take it you're here alone, too?"
"I arrived alone, anyway," she said, reaching out to fondle his black shirt. He'd had a big, beautiful leather coat when he started on stage, but had to shed that before too long. Michael smelled of sweat and energy, yet he didn't stink. He smelled like a man. She liked that. "I'm hoping I'm not really here alone anymore."
"Well, I'd be happy to provide you with an escort," Michael offered. "Not everyone here is a gentleman, and not everyone would treat you like a lady."
She smiled broadly. He meant that—he delivered it as a joke, surely, but she understood the subtext. "You're not just pretending to be a gentleman because it's Halloween, are you?"
"No. Though that would've been a good costume."
"I ask because I decided not to be a lady tonight," Shannon explained. "At least, not by conventional standards." She tugged his shirt. He moved in closer. One of his hands went up to the wall just over her shoulder. "But I need some help to pull that off properly."
Her next line would have been, "So kiss me," but Michael turned out to be just as good at reading between the lines as Shannon. His mouth came to hers. Shannon didn't put up with any gentle lead-in to long, tender kissing this time. Her grip on his shirt turned forceful and her other hand came around the back of his head as she drew him in, kissing back fiercely and goading him into opening up to her more.
Subtle whimpers and lithe body language encouraged Michael to move in. Their lips and tongues grew friendlier as their bodies came together. Shannon welcomed the touch of his shamelessly curious hands on her exposed flesh. Soon, she had to break off from the kiss just to breathe, but the air flowed in and out of her mouth beside his ear in a lusty hiss.
"I'm not usually this forward," he told her. The deep tone of his voice assured her that he had no problem with cold feet. The kiss he planted on her neck punctuated that tone nicely.
"Neither am I," Shannon said directly into his ear, "but I won't hold it against you. Seems like a good night to go out of character."
His mouth came off of her neck. The pair looked at one another with intense, excited eyes. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked.
Shannon grinned again. She could feel how much he wanted her. Most people would buckle under that sort of desire and take anything they could get. Yet Michael could walk away if he had to right now.
"I came here planning to seduce you tonight," Shannon answered. "And I'm not looking for anything exclusive."
"One night only, huh?" he asked.
"I didn't say that," she shrugged, "but that's up to you. A man has to protect himself. I understand that. I like you a lot. You're living up to my hopes. I just want you to know there's no white picket fence at the end of this."
She let him sort that out, staring into his eyes all the while. His hand didn't come off her nearly bare hip. His body didn't move off of hers. "White picket fences don't sound very rock'n'roll," he said.
"They don't," Shannon agreed. "Of course, I always figured rock stars were a lot less polite and a lot more ffffff—!" she broke off as his hand slipped under her skirt and moved between her legs. She wanted that. She wanted it even more than she realized, and now found him reacting to it. Did he know? Did he read it in her somehow? Was it in her body language, or her demeanor?
It felt far too good to think about now. Shannon melted into Michael's touch, letting him wrap his free arm around her back while his hand worked her through her thin, lacy panties. His mouth came to hers once more, gentler this time as he knew the effect he was having on her body.
Shannon let him take the lead. She liked a guy who could take charge like this. If she felt like seizing control later, she could always do it. For now, she reveled in the fantasy of having a rock star sweep her off her feet... even if he was only a local rock star and both her heels were still on the floor.
She clung weakly to his shoulders. Panted into his mouth. Tensed at the jolts of pleasure that ran through her as his thumb began to tease just the right spot.
Music picked up in the club. Once again, it was all just canned, but it signaled the impending appearance of the next band. Lights around them dimmed. Shannon felt herself grow hotter and hungrier, and realized the distraction was exactly what she needed.
"We should get out of here," Michael suggested.
"Nnno," Shannon sighed back. "Everyone's distracted now. They're watching the stage. Not us. It's the perfect time."
Michael grinned. "Not something I've ever done," he admitted.
"Me neither." Shannon's voice was completely at his mercy now. It was high and breathless and she didn't feel the least bit embarrassed by it. "I'm not... myself... tonight."
Her hands went to his belt. She leaned in and kissed him fiercely as she unfastened it, finding little trouble in freeing him. Then his lips broke off of hers. "We should at least play it safe," he said. "Let me put on a con—"
"We don't need it," Shannon assured him in a voice she'd never used before. "Trust me." Her words surprised her, but she knew they were true—and unnaturally persuasive.
His eyes blinked rapidly. Then the touch of his hands became firmer and hungrier, and he pushed her up against the wall again as his mouth attacked hers. Somewhere in the distance, voices exploded into cheers and fresh, new music hit. It wasn't as good as Rockerdammerung's, but neither Michael nor Shannon were there for the music anymore.
She had his groin free of his leather pants. Michael pulled on her lace panties, bringing them down until he realized they had drawstrings on the hips. He shared a knowing grin with Shannon before he took advantage of their convenience and slipped them free.
Their mouths were locked together in a kiss when all was ready. Shannon felt him shift and let him grip her ass with both hands, gladly spreading for him to hasten the inevitable. She reached for his cock, guided him, held her breath in anticipation... and then moaned uncontrollably into his mouth when she felt him push up inside of her.
She loved him in that moment, though she knew immediately it was more about the act than her partner. Shannon reveled as he thrust in and out of her, alleviating her suspense and anticipation while aggravating her need for release. He was a great partner, and would be so later tonight when they got someplace where they could really enjoy one another. He wasn't just a random lay. He was someone she found genuinely attractive.
Shannon's joy rose along with her pleasure. Monogamy was no longer for her. She carried the unnatural lusts and needs of a woman who was clearly not human. None of that meant she had to lower her standards.
They moved together, grunting and thrusting and loving it.
Distant and all but forgotten already, Shannon heard the customary cheers and applause of the end of the first song. Her eyes met with Michael's. They shifted together, fucking up against the wall and enjoying it on through the next song, and then the next. Neither had anything to say; their needful coupling was statement enough.
Shannon's fingers slipped into his hair. She kissed him again, then couldn't control her breathing enough to continue, and finally leaned her head against his as he brought her to the edge of orgasm. When it hit, Shannon's arms squeezed harder around his shoulders and her fingers dug into his scalp. She let out loud, broken moans directly into his ear. She felt his release hit, too, and enjoyed his voice and the sensations that her partner's climax created within her.
They clung together until their bodies relaxed enough to allow speech. Shannon hardly wanted to let him go, preferring instead to keep him trapped like this. But she knew greater pleasures were to be shared in a different setting.
"I've got a hotel room nearby," he huffed. "Thought I was going to an after party. Knew I wouldn't want to drive."
"Do you still want to go?" Shannon asked with a taunting smile.
"Think I got a better invitation now," Michael grinned.
* * *
Morning light crept up on them through the sliding glass door of Michael's hotel room. It was a reminder of how little care they had given to planning ahead; the pair had simply tumbled into the room together and begun tearing Michael's clothes off. Shannon's didn't come off right away; she was fully naked now, but for a long time that night she enjoyed playing in her lingerie.
She straddled Michael on the bed, letting him lay back and enjoy a slow ride. His stamina had finally waned some time ago, but Shannon was happy to take up the slack. Occasionally, his eyes fluttered closed and he just smiled as her hips moved and as she brought him in and out of her. Mostly, though, he watched her with undisguised appreciation.
"Can't believe we stayed up all night," Michael murmured to the beautiful woman above him. "Wish I had more energy."
"Are you enjoying this?" Shannon grinned naughtily.
"Hell yeah," he sighed. "Never had it so good."
"Then relax," she said. "You put on a whole show. Probably had a full day at work beforehand, right? I'm not holding it against you."
Michael's breath grew shorter and quicker. Shannon's grin spread further. She had him close again, and knew it. Her own rush would not be long in arriving. "Just don't... wanna... leave you... wanting..." Michael began to pant.
"Shhh, you're wonderful," Shannon assured him. Her eyes began to close. She savored the slow climb to satisfaction. "So good. So... oh. Unh!"
As happened several times already, her orgasm was brought on largely by the first spasms of her partner. Shannon pushed him along by rising up just a bit higher and coming down on him a little harder, then remained there as her body was overcome by jolts of pleasure.
She kept Michael in her for several minutes after her orgasm had passed, but stayed still. Warm feelings of satisfaction flowed through her. Despite the pleasure of coupling with Shannon, Michael's endurance had finally reached its limits. He dozed off underneath his partner, having given his all and then some. Shannon smiled. He'd been just what she needed.
Her only concern was over what might happen next.
She slipped off of him quietly, pulling a blanket up over his naked body before she moved away from the bed. He was already sound asleep. Shannon felt only slightly tired; she needed to stretch and get some fresh air more than she needed a nap. She glanced around the hotel room, found her white lab coat crumpled on the floor and put it on. Then she slipped the balcony door open, drawing the curtains behind her to darken the room for Michael before she stepped outside.
Seattle's skies were overcast as usual this time of year, and dawn had broken only a short while ago. It should have been freezing for her, dressed only in a thin lab coat and with nothing on her feet. Yet she felt fine. Shannon looked out at the great view of downtown and its busy streets flooded with people going back to work.
Where do I go from here?
She still had her job. The complaint from the emergency room would pass without real trouble. Just another speed bump. As she had said to Lorelei, though, her career felt stalled. Brad claimed their relationship had lost its spark, but if anything had gone cold, it was her job. She still enjoyed actually helping people, and she liked the excitement. She just didn't know if she wanted to deal with the low points and all the accompanying bullshit anymore.
Unique conditions steered Shannon's life now. She had new needs to address, and enjoyed them more than she could say. One would think that carrying around the soul of a demon would be a curse, but so far it had been the time of her life.
She wondered how much of her life it would consume.
A gust of wind rushed past. Unconsciously, Shannon turned her head as if to follow it, but all she saw was skyline and rooftops. Then two bare feet came down on the rail of the balcony, and Shannon was not alone.
"Oh! Wow. Hi again. Ohmygod, are you okay?"
The angel stood covered in soot and blood. Her white dress was torn in many places, with long scars in her flesh. Rachel's face was set in a scowl. "Yeah," she grumbled, "I'll be fine. Looks worse than it is. You should see what's left of the other dumb fuckers."
"Are those claw marks?" Shannon blinked.
"Hey, it was six against one, alright?" Rachel replied irritably. "I got all dolled up for Halloween and what do I get? Werewolves. Fuckin' werewolves, pissing all over my party like it's just a fuckin' tree out in the fuckin' woods. And they aren't even what actually ruined my night!"
"What happened?"
"Long story, ain't got the time to tell it. I just flew by and saw you out here. You might be wearing a different look, but you still kinda stick out for me. But the bed-head looks good on you," she smirked.
Shannon's hand reflexively came up to her ruffled hair. She blushed, but then just smiled back. "Guess I had a better night than you did."
"Would've appreciated spending more of it getting laid. Anyway, you holdin' up okay?" asked Rachel.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm gonna be fine. Honestly, I'm getting to like this."
"Good. Have a ball. You're doing the world a favor just by living your life. Just make sure you're careful with others. Play nice."
"About that," Shannon said, "how... how do I know? I mean, I'm a little afraid I'm gonna just start breaking hearts left and right."
Rachel gave a shrug. "Be honest. Be up front." She paused. "Be whoever you want to be. It's your life."
"I just..." Shannon found herself struggling for the words. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the room inside. "I like him, y'know? And Kevin. The guy from the other day."
Rachel's mouth turned to a bit of a frown. "Officer Shootsyourass is a big boy. Seen him around before. Tell him your boundaries."
Shannon blinked. "Wait," she said, putting her fingers up by her head as if they were fake demon's horns, "you mean tell him?"
"Fuck, no, don't tell him that. It's funnier if he doesn't know. Just tell him you need your freedom. He'll be fine. As for this one..."
Without ceremony or even a pause, Rachel stuck her head and shoulders through the glass door and the curtain. Shannon saw only her backside, her legs and her wings; everything else literally just ended at the curtain. Then Rachel stood up straight again and smiled.
"He's cute," she said. "And sweet. But he's not the jealous type. Broke up with his last thing a few weeks ago and now he doesn't want to rush into anything serious, either. You want to make this a one-night stand, he'll be cool. If not? Keep it steamy and mysterious and fuck his brains out but don't get too comfortable. You'll know when it's getting too serious. When it happens, just take a step back. And let him go if he needs to walk away.
"Just remember, you gotta play the long game on this. Play the field, y'know? You can stick with some regulars, but it's gotta be plural. You can't stick with the same partner night after night. You'll hurt them."
"I'm more afraid of hurting them if I do play the field," Shannon told her. "The thought of fooling around wherever I go excites me. I'm kind of embarrassed to admit that, but you know what's going on with me, right? Can I really do this?"
"Sure. Believe me, chica, Heaven doesn't give a shit how many people you fuck or how dirty you are in bed. Just play nice with hearts. You'll learn your way. I have faith. Anyway, I gotta fuck off and deal with all my own bullshit." Rachel literally hopped up onto the balcony rail and spread her wings once more. "See you round!" she said, and with that she dove off into the air and disappeared.
Shannon stood alone then, looking out at the city once more. Her hands went into her pockets, where she found her cell phone safely resting. She gave it only a moment's consideration before she pulled it out again and found the number in her call history.
"This is Officer Murray," came the answering voice.
"This is your inappropriate personal call," Shannon replied with a smile. She didn't even consider it before it came out of her mouth. Flirting just came naturally now. "Is this an okay time, or are you handcuffing someone?"
"Kinda just got done with that, actually."
"Wow, really?"
"Yeah. Anyway. What's up? You have a good Halloween?"
"I did, but I'm wondering what you're up to maybe tonight or tomorrow," Shannon ventured. "I don't... I'm a little unsure of how to ask. I know I was a little spastic in the morning when you were at my place."
"No worries, you had company. I understand." He paused. "I could make time for you."
She smiled, felt the joy of anticipation again even despite the satisfaction of her recent conquest—and then remembered exactly that. "Kevin," she said, "I'm kind of complicated."
"Show me someone who isn't."
"No, I mean... I like you. A lot. But I can't do anything exclusive. I mean I really can't, and I don't want to lead you on." The eagerness left her voice. Now she felt only concern. She brought one hand to her mouth, clamping nervous teeth down on one nail.
"I wasn't gonna presume anything after two dates," he assured her dryly.
"Yeah, but... what about after twenty?"
He just laughed. "Turns out my cat has a strong phobia of commitment, so that might work out well for me."
"You're not just saying that?"
"No. Seriously. You'll have to meet my cat."
Her grin returned. So did the sense of anticipation. "So, your place, then?"