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  Sexy as Hell

  A More Than Men Novella

  Andrea Laurence

  Written by Andrea Laurence

  Published by Andrea Laurence

  Copyright 2012 Andrea Laurence

  Cover Art Design by Hot Damn Designs

  KINDLE EDITION

  All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or part in any form by electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Andrea Laurence, [email protected].

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to the actions persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Other books by Andrea Laurence

  Harlequin Desire Series

  What Lies Beneath

  More Than He Expected

  Undeniable Demands*

  A Very Exclusive Engagement

  *Secrets of Eden Series

  Independently Published:

  Sexy As Hell**

  **A More Than Men Novella

  9:12 A.M.

  "Tell me you want me. "

  Camille’s long blonde hair spilled across Seth's chest. Her thighs straddled him, the muscles clamped tightly to his hips. Every move of her body sent a shockwave through him as she ground her hips against the full length of his erection. He yearned to reach out and touch her, but she’d pinned his arms over his head. She had a disturbing amount of strength for such a lithe figure.

  The only thing between them was the thin slip of her red lace panties. If his hands were free, he’d rip them off and dive into her warmth before she could say a word about it. But his wrists still held fast in her hands. All he could do was grit his teeth and pray she wouldn’t tease him for much longer. But he wouldn’t beg. He refused to, despite the fact that he'd waited months for this moment. Hell, he'd waited a millennium at least for a woman like Camille, although time had gotten a little fluid to him.

  "Tell me you want me," she said again, leaning down and whispering the words into his ear. Her hot breath stung the sensitive flesh of his neck and sent a spike of hot need down his spine.

  "You know I do," he growled between gritted teeth. He leaned his head up off the pillow to bite at her earlobe, but she pulled away. "Let go of my hands and I’ll show you just how much."

  She gazed down at him and laughed. Her laughter was unusually deep, with a sinister edge to it. He'd never heard her make a sound like that. His sweet, southern neighbor was a ray of golden sunshine in his dark, disturbing world. He dismissed the thought as Camille let go of his hands and dragged her razor-sharp fingernails across his bare chest.

  Seth hissed, red welts rising over his skin, but he didn't care. They would heal almost immediately, anyway. Instead he focused on the newfound freedom of his hands. They went immediately to Camille’s waist, tearing her panties from her with a satisfying rip and casting them to the floor.

  "Yes," she smiled, raising up enough to let him maneuver their bodies and sink deep inside of her.

  The sensation of her wet heat enveloping him was almost more than he could take. Every nerve in his body screamed out for instantaneous release, but he wasn't about to let this end anytime soon. "Damn, you feel good."

  "I know." She tightened her muscles around him, sending a shockwave through his body. Arching back, she started moving over him, slowly at first, then gradually increasing in speed. "Yes, yes," she repeated to the rhythm of her hips.

  Seth reached forward and took one breast in each hand. The nipples peaked against his rough palms, the firm flesh giving way to the pressure of his fingertips. The harder he squeezed them, the louder she moaned and the more ferociously she rocked her hips against him.

  It felt amazing, but this would all be over in seconds if he didn’t slow Camille down. "Hey." he said, "take it easy. We’ve got all night."

  "Just let go, baby," she purred, ignoring his protests.

  Before he could argue, he felt her body almost shift deep inside. Her inner muscles uncoiled, clamping down and wrapping around his shaft. An overwhelming sensation he’d never experienced before exploded in his groin, but it was tempered by a touch of anxiety as he realized he couldn't withdraw any longer.

  "Seriously," he tried to push her off of him, but she held fast. Now the anxiety escalated to fear. Something was wrong. He could feel her drawing the energy out of him even faster than she was coaxing his climax.

  Seth was growing dangerously weaker by the minute.

  "Stop," he protested, but she mocked him, a smile lighting up her eyes as they started to glow blood red in the dim room. Instead, her hips moved even more furiously, coaxing the life to pour out of him faster.

  "No!"

  Seth Holloway shot up straight in bed. He eyed his dark, empty bedroom for a threat, but he was alone. The pounding of his heart was the only thing he could hear as his ragged breath slowly returned to normal.

  He flopped back down against his pillows. That was one hell of a dream. Seth had dreamt of Camille several times since she moved into his building, but they had never been anything like that before. Maybe he was working too much. It wasn't as though he had anything else to fill the unending hours of his life, but his mission was blurring into his personal life if he was dreaming his sexy neighbor was a demon.

  Seth frowned and turned his head. The glowing numbers on his alarm clock proclaimed it was nine-fifteen in the morning. A perfectly reasonable time to get up. Late by most standards. Normal standards, at least. Unfortunately, Seth was hardly normal. He’d been out working until nearly sunrise, and was most nights of the week. It was better than sitting around his apartment ticking away the unending minutes of his life.

  But sometimes, some days, he wished he could be normal. Have a day job. Take a vacation. Writhe around with a woman that he didn't intend to kill or banish when he was through with them. But there was a reason Seth had walked the face of the Earth for more than fifteen hundred years. And it wasn't so he could take his neighbor out for coffee and get laid.

  Unfortunately, he hadn't given away his libido when he signed away his soul for immortality.

  He should've read the contract a little closer before he signed, but being moments from a painful and violent death had provided a necessary sense of urgency. What could be wrong with it? He was selling his soul to the Archangel Michael. Would an angelic messenger of God have an untrustworthy contract?

  Not exactly.

  But they didn't understand lust and pleasure the way humans experience it either. It would never occur to them that he might want to do something other than battle demons for the rest of eternity.

  Seth took a deep breath to wish away the real erection his dream had elicited. It wasn’t really a dream, anyway. It was a sign of work to come. If Camille's demonic red eyes hadn't been the first clue, the unmistakable sensation would’ve been the next. He could feel the prickle at the back of his neck, the sudden awareness that he wasn’t really alone in his apartment anymore. The presence wasn't threatening, he'd recognize it anywhere, but it certainly wasn't welcome at the moment.

  "Seth."

  His head snapped to the left to see his chair now occupied by none other than the Archangel himself. He was slouched down in his seat, casually leaning his face into his hand. There was no glow, no blinding white light, no halo. Not even great, awe-inspiring wings. He was just a man in a white suit with long blond hair. An attractive man, but nothing like the movies portrayed him to be. Seth secr
etly wondered if they saved the theatrics for more important encounters or if it was all just for publicity.

  When Michael'd first appeared at his side and offered him everlasting life, Seth didn't believe he was who he claimed to be. Even a millennium and a half ago, ideas of angelic messengers were more grand than they were in actuality. It wasn't until after he signed the contract and was instantaneously transported from his execution near the Dead Sea to a field in Southern France that he understood. It was powerfully real, if not showy.

  "Michael," he muttered in greeting, pulling his sheets higher up his bare waist. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon. I thought we'd talked about me taking a break after that last job. You know, a vacation? I’ve been in bed less than three hours. That doesn’t quite count."

  Michael shrugged. Human weaknesses and frailties, such as the burning desire to go to Atlantic City for the weekend, were of no concern to him. He was relentless in his work and expected those in his employ, of sorts, to be the same.

  "If I weren't immortal, you'd have worked me to death, Michael."

  "And if it weren't for me, you'd have been dead in 523 anno Domini and never would've known what Atlantic City even was."

  He hadn't said that part out loud. "Get out of my head, man. I signed over my soul, not my brain."

  Michael sat up straight in the chair and struck a seemingly sympathetic pose, albeit artificial. Angels didn’t have a very wide range of emotions. "I understand you feel the need to, uh, sow your oats."

  "It's not just that. I'm tired. Fifteen hundred years of battling demons has caught up with me. I don’t even think a month in Vegas could help that."

  "So, what? Do you desire to be released from your contract?"

  Seth frowned at the angel that had been issuing orders to him for as long as he could remember. "Released? Is that even an option? I'll admit I didn't read the contract very closely in the heat of the moment."

  "It is a possibility, although I would hate to lose you, Seth. You're the best we've got. If the hellions got word that we'd lost our oldest and strongest warrior, we'd be up to our elbows in trouble."

  He could get out of it. Out of it! And no one had ever mentioned this fact before.

  "I thought you understood the terms and simply enjoyed the work," Michael said calmly, despite plucking the angry words from Seth's head. "If both parties agree to the dissolution, and a period of no less than a thousand years has been served, the contract may be declared fulfilled and terminated."

  "And what then?"

  "You revert to the age and condition you were in at the time of contract and live out the remainder of your mortal life."

  "And when I die...?"

  "I cannot guarantee you a space in Heaven. That is dependent on how you live out the remainder of your life. That said, given your line of work, Hell would not be a real option either. You've earned too many enemies down there. At the worst, Purgatory. At best, Heaven. It’s your choice."

  Just like that, he would be human again. A human without a job or family, but human. There had to be a catch. There just had to be. "And you're just going to let me out of it. Right now?"

  Michael watched him with silver-gray eyes that shone a bit too brightly in the dim room. "No, not right now. After this assignment."

  Seth tried not to let the disappointment show, but he'd just been offered his life and had it taken away within a few heartbeats. "It figures."

  Michael stood up from the chair and moved gracefully over to sit at the end of the bed. "I understand your frustration, Seth, but even if I wanted to, I couldn't give this assignment to anyone else."

  "Oh, come on, Michael. If you're willing to let me out of my contract, it’s only because you have other people that can deal with this stuff."

  "We’ve got a succubus."

  As usual, the archangel did not mince words. Seth squeezed his jaw tightly shut to keep in his knee-jerk response. Of all the things it could be, this was a temptation he could do without. Especially in his current state. A succubus was a female demon so intoxicating she was capable of luring any man to his death. They were vicious, relentless, and the sexiest thing Hell had to offer.

  "You’re the only one who can handle this," Michael continued. His voice carried the authority of God’s general, and Seth knew better than to argue with him. He spoke with angelic conviction whether he was issuing commands or chitchatting about how things were going in the heavenly realm. "This one has come for you."

  "Me?" His brow knotted together in confusion. He’d never been directly targeted before. Michael’s warriors were deliberately kept anonymous. In the hellish realm, there were only rumors of immortals tasked with policing the earth. Few made the return trip to tell about it. Most of them were simply destroyed and failed to exist on any plane. "Why would a succubus come for me?"

  "Someone has been plotting. I’m not entirely certain who it is or where they got the idea. But they’ve gotten it in their heads that if a succubus were to steal your, uh..."

  "Semen?" That’s what they were typically after.

  "Yes —— that. And with it, they would also steal your lifeforce, and therefore, your immortality."

  "And do what with it?"

  "What all succubae do. Provide it to an incubus to implant into an unwitting female and impregnate her with a half-human, half-demon cambion."

  "And how will my immortal spunk make it any different?"

  Michael scoffed at Seth’s crude words. "Aside from killing you in the process, we’re not entirely sure. But we’re afraid it might create a cambion that cannot be destroyed, as you cannot be destroyed."

  "Apparently, I can be destroyed," Seth said bitterly, "but the cambion wouldn’t have that weakness." A cambion, although born to a human woman, would have no heartbeat, wouldn’t breathe. It would appear to be dead if it weren’t for the fact that it walked and talked. But a cambion could also not breed, and therefore had no lifeforce to steal, like he did.

  They couldn’t risk having something like that running around New York City. Especially with Seth dead and unable to deal with the situation. He was the most experienced in his work, Michael’s first recruit, and even he could have a hard time dealing with the kind of demons that were fairly easy to dispatch. How would someone kill an immortal demon?

  "Even if we are successful in banishing this succubus and keeping you alive, it seems as though your cover is blown. You're a permanent target now. Whoever uncovered your identity and sent the succubus here intends to succeed. They will keep coming after you until they destroy you."

  "Which is the only reason why you're letting me out of my contract. I’m compromised."

  "Naturally."

  You'd think that working with angels would be, well, heavenly, but there were days when Seth wished they had wings just so he could pluck out their feathers one by one. Especially when they withheld information.

  "It gets a little more complicated."

  Seth sighed. Like that. Wasn’t this complicated enough?

  "The succubus has taken your neighbor, Camille Sawyer, as its host."

  The images of his dream crept into his consciousness at the mention of the luscious blonde. She lived down the hall and drove him to distraction on a daily basis, though he doubted she was aware of it. She’d kept a polite, neighborly distance from him. "Camille? That can’t possibly be right."

  He’d just seen her the night before. Seth had spoken to her in the vestibule of their apartment building as he was on his way out and she was coming home with an armful of groceries. He immediately stopped in his tracks and offered to help her carry them upstairs. Camille had smiled and unconsciously flipped her hair over her shoulder in a way that sent a whiff of her perfume his way and made him absolutely crazy. He followed her back up the stairs, watching her lush curves sway back and forth in her tight pencil skirt.

  If he thought she had the slightest chance of surviving in his world, he’d ask her out in a heartbeat. Camille was gorgeous, smart,
funny...but certainly not possessed by a sex demon.

  "The succubus got out at dawn. She took Camille shortly after."

  Seth wanted to insist there was a mistake, but he knew better. If a succubus had escaped Hell and taken a human host, there was no question Michael would know. It certainly explained the dream. The innocent fantasy was one of the oldest tricks of the succubus. The demon would invade a man’s dreams and cause him to become obsessed with obtaining her. It was like a love spell from a fairy tale, but with a nightmarish ending.

  "She should be in contact soon."

  Seth had no doubt. The succubus only had twenty-four hours. She wasn’t going to waste any time. "I’d better get to it, then."

  "Be strong, Seth."

  Be strong. Yeah. Sure. Before he could turn and say something smart in retort, the man at the end of his bed had vanished as quickly as he’d arrived.

  Shit. The beautiful, sensuous star of his fantasies was possessed by a succubus. In twenty-four hours time, Seth would either be dead or mortal again. And if things did go wrong, Camille could completely lose herself to the demon inside her. There wasn’t much time to waste.

  Standing up, he stretched and worked the kinks out of his muscles. He showered quickly and tugged on his favorite t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He tucked the chain with his silver Saint Patroclus of Troyes medal into his shirt and tugged his holster over his shoulders. He hastily surveyed the supplies that were tucked into the custom-made pockets. The previous night’s activities had depleted his provisions. He’d have to make a stop at his supply cabinet before he left.

  He made a quick stop in the living room for his boots before unlocking the armoire with his equipment. He refilled his special holy water, blessed by a dead Pope, and grabbed a few syringes of sedatives, a tranquilizer gun, rope, and duct tape. His eyes lingered on the real gun and ammunition that still lay on his shelf. He closed the door and locked it, leaving it inside. No matter what happened, he couldn’t let himself shoot Camille.