Home > Fashionably Hotter Than Hell (Hot Damned #6)(16)

Fashionably Hotter Than Hell (Hot Damned #6)(16)
Author: Robyn Peterman

"Are we done fighting?" she asked.

There were several ways to answer that one. "Literally or figuratively?"

"That's kind of loaded, don't you think?" she replied.

I glanced over at her on the floor beside me. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled. She had never been more beautiful and I'd never been more at a loss as to what to do.

"Astrid bet me that we couldn't be friends," I lied. Fuck, where did that come from?

"What did you bet?" She sat up as her eyes grew wide with excitement.

Lying was never the best policy, but knowing Raquel was a sucker for a bet or a dare spurred me on. "My fleet of cars," I answered, compounding the lie tremendously. I figured I should just phone Satan and reserve a suite, but she giggled and I couldn't stop myself. "My entire fleet of cars," I added as I hoped God and Astrid would forgive me.

"Holy shit," she muttered. She knew my car collection. "What do you get from her if you win?"

"She has to pole dance with Mother Nature at the next formal gathering," I said as I imagined my cousin ripping me from limb to limb. Astrid was going to kill me dead.

"Piece of cake," she said as she laughed. "You will win and Astrid will dance."

"Really?" Could it be this easy? Did lying work? "You'll be my friend?"

"What exactly does being your friend entail?"

"Well, we would talk and be civil instead of trying to kill each other," I said slowly, wondering how much I could get away with. I was headed to Hell anyway, might as well make it worth it.

"I could probably make that work," she said as she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her slim thighs.

"We would hang out and get to know each other better," I added and waited for her to belt me.

"How much?" she asked suspiciously.

"Probably a lot in the beginning. How long are you here?"

"Not sure yet," she said as she rested her chin on her knees. "So no sex?"

"No, no sex," I croaked as we both stared at my raging erection. "Well, maybe if we talked the entire time and got to know each other while we fucked."

"You mean like in between each thrust, you ask me my favorite color or favorite board game?" she inquired with a raised brow and a smirk.

"That sounds somewhat complicated," I said.

"And mood killing," she added.

"How about after each orgasm we ask three questions?" I bargained.

"I get two and you get one?"

"No, we each get three." I shook my head and grinned.

"Two," she negotiated.

I pretended to consider her counter, but I would have said yes to one question after every tenth orgasm. The deal was pretty damn good.

"I can work with that."

"My suite or yours, friend?" she asked as she stood and offered me her hand.

"Mine. I hate filthy bathrooms."

She rolled her eyes and laughed like a carefree girl. "You got yourself a deal."

Her laugh was music to my ears. We raced each other to the exit of the training room. I knew I'd get busted for lying at some point. I just prayed it would be after we had mated.


"Blue," she said as she tore off her shirt and went for my pants.

"My balls?" I asked as I helped her. Then I picked her up and threw her on the bed.

"No, idiot, my favorite color. Yours?" Her laugh went all through me and I grinned.

"Red," I said as I dove on top of her naked body. "I thought the questions were after each orgasm."

My hands found her breasts and her nipples pebbled beneath my fingertips. She was fucking perfect.

"I know," she said as she ran her hands up my chest and tangled her fingers in my hair, "but I realized there are some things I want to know. Can't you multitask?"

She ground her hips against my erection and I saw stars. I was not going to blow my wad like a high school human—at least I hoped not.

This felt different than all the times we'd fucked over the years. Normally we insulted the Hell out of each other and then screwed until we were almost for real dead. This was far better, but there was no way I was going to articulate that. She'd run.

"Do you have any pets?" I asked as I ran my tongue along the underside of her breast.

"Cats. Two," she said as she shuddered and arched her back, silently begging for more.

I happily obliged and scraped my fangs over her firm round breasts.

"You?" she whispered.

"No, but I like pussies."

"Oh my God," she burst out. "You suck at this."

"Nope, but I can," I murmured as I took her distended nipple in my mouth and did just that.

Her hiss went straight to my balls and the need to be inside her was almost debilitating, but I held back. Don't hide the fucking salami until I know more about her than just how to make her body sing.

"Favorite singer?" I asked in a muffled voice due to her breast being in my mouth.

"Johnny Cash," she squeaked as I nipped and then stopped.

"You're kidding."

"No," she snapped. "What's wrong with Johnny Cash?"

"Nothing. It's just surprising," I said as I trapped her arms over her head and got nose to nose with her. "Favorite TV show?"

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