Page 16 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

UP AND COMING

M EPH PRACTICALLY KICKED THE DOOR DOWN TO I RIS’S apartment. He made it there in record speed, navigating the raging blizzard like an explorer seeking shelter, with a hard-on the whole way. He was getting pretty good at traveling with a boner.

Iris opened the door, looking ready to tear him a new one for knocking so loud, but froze at the sight of him. “What the hell? Where’s your coat?”

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him and then proceeded to shake the snow off himself like a dog. Iris yelped and jumped back as droplets sprayed everywhere.

“I forgot it,” he said.

“But it’s twenty below! Aren’t you cold?”

“Not really.”

She shook her head as if he was nuts, but he didn’t get it. He had worn his baggiest hoodie and even put the hood up. What was wrong with that?

He tugged the cotton monstrosity over his head, his T-shirt getting stuck to the bottom and pulling halfway off before he separated it and yanked it back down.

When he finally got the hoodie off, Iris was staring blankly at his torso, which was weird, but maybe she was still hung up on the no-coat thing.

Oh, he realized. She’d been staring at his abs.

Nice. He flashed her a smug grin, which she returned with a scowl.

Hanging his snow-covered hoodie on the hook by the door, he stepped past her into the hallway and looked around. “Cool place.”

To his left, the living room featured a funky claw-foot sofa, classic tattoo-style art on the walls, and crawling vines around the windows. He saw a bookshelf with some witchy books and cool sculptures on it, so he went straight there and started picking everything up and examining it.

He could practically hear Bel’s voice in his head. Don’t touch anything, idiot . He knew he shouldn’t. He wasn’t clumsy, but he wasn’t exactly careful either, and he’d been known to break things. But he loved touching stuff. He especially loved touching art.

He went straight for this cool glass skull, picking it up and weighing it in his hands, running his fingers over all the bumps and edges. Next thing he picked up was an old-fashioned candelabra with decorative curving branches like a tree for each of the holders.

He was just reaching for a carved beeswax candle when Iris cleared her throat. “Having fun?”

He spun around, and she cocked a brow at him.

“Yeah. Ooh, what’s that?” His gaze caught on the painting on the wall across the room, and he headed there until he suddenly remembered why he was here in the first place. And it wasn’t to examine fucking art. Sure, that was fun and all, but not as fun as what he had in mind.

Diverting his attention back to Iris, he stopped and actually looked at her for the first time since he’d arrived.

She was wearing a baggy black sweater with a scooping V-neck, revealing the sight of the flowery tattoo on the side of her chest, and a pair of leggings the same shade as her hair.

That hair was tied in a loose bundle on top of her head, little blue strands framing her face.

She was glaring at him slightly, but that wasn’t new.

But with her hair up like that, her dainty little ears visible—and maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was standing in her home—she looked.

.. cute. She would have nailed his balls to the wall if he’d said it out loud, but it was true.

She looked cute. And hot. And he really wanted to see her naked.

Silence reigned for a few awkward moments.

Meph would have been down to grab her, thrown her down on the couch, and go to town right then and there.

But he wasn’t sure what was going on in Iris’s head.

She had this curious expression on her face that looked like a cross between confusion and anger. Admittedly, not a great place to start.

So, shoving his hands into his pockets, he stood there and stared back at her, waiting for her to make the first move.

“You want a drink?” she said.

“Sure.” He didn’t. But if it would make her relax, then why not.

She gestured for him to follow her down the hall to the kitchen. Her place had pretty much the same layout as Lily’s, which wasn’t a surprise because a lot of the old apartments in this city were built that way.

Halfway down the hall, he heard hissing before a furry nightmare shot out of nowhere and attacked his ankles.

“What the fuck?” He jumped around to dodge the assault like he was standing on hot coals.

“Grim, stop it,” Iris scolded, scooping up the black cat who continued to hiss at him, yellow eyes flashing with fury.

“That thing’s a menace,” Meph said, glaring right back at the little devil.

“He’s just protective, aren’t you, Grimmy Poo?” Iris stroked his little black head.

Meph and the cat’s eyes narrowed at each other.

Iris put him down, and he shot out of the kitchen in a blur, hopefully to remain out of sight for the rest of the night.

“Where’s your hound?” Meph asked as Iris bent over at the fridge and retrieved two beers. She twisted off the tops and handed him one, and he took up station beside the fridge while she leaned against the counter by the sink.

“He’s asleep in my room.”

Meph nodded and took a swig. Iris did the same, looking anywhere but at him.

“So... this is awkward.”

She snorted. “Yeah, it kinda is.” She seemed relieved that he’d said it.

Say what one would about him, Meph was always direct. Maybe too direct, but in this case, it served him well.

“Maybe we should watch Dawn of the Dead to get in the mood.”

This time he got a proper laugh out of her, and it was stupid how he felt like he’d earned a trophy or something.

“That’s about the unsexiest movie I could think of,” she replied.

Hoping he was reading the vibe correctly, he pushed off the fridge and stalked toward her, stopping a couple of steps away. Her eyes darkened, and more satisfaction filled him. “We could have been watching The Weather Channel, and I would have been turned on.”

“You weren’t even watching.”

“Nope. I was too busy trying to keep from coming in my pants every time you rubbed up on me.”

Her eyes flared a little, but she scoffed. “I was not rubbing up on you.”

“You were.”

“I was not—Whatever. You’re one to talk. You were trying to hide your huge boner all casually as if I wouldn’t notice.”

He felt his face crack into a grin. “Oh, it’s huge all right.”

Her eyes rolled. “Of course you would fixate on that.”

“I’m not surprised you noticed.” He leaned into her a little more.

She feigned utter boredom, but he could tell by those heavy-lidded green eyes that she was into it. “Well, yeah, it was kinda hard not to.”

“’Cause it’s so huge, right?”

She groaned. “Because you were sitting right next to me.”

“And you were staring right at it. And rubbing up against me.” His smile was so wide his face hurt. Man, he had fun bugging her. It was his second favorite pastime. The first, well, he’d determined that already.

Her jaw clenched. “I swear to god, you are the most ridiculous, infuriating, obnoxious—”

He cut her off with a kiss. He would show her who was ridiculous, infuriating, and obnoxious.

Okay, so maybe he was. But she still wanted him, so the joke was on her.

He tugged the drink out of her hand and set it down beside his before pressing her up against the counter and kissing her harder.

She melted, the breath escaping her as she draped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers into his hair. Little tingles raced down his spine. He pried her lips apart and snaked his tongue into her mouth, and his cock jerked against her when she parried back.

“I forgot your tongue’s pierced,” she muttered absentmindedly while they continued to frantically dry hump each other.

“You didn’t notice when I was kissing you before?”

Her head shook. “I was a little distracted.”

“And you’re not now?” He pulled back a little. “Then I’m obviously not trying hard enough.”

Fuck, she was hot. Her cheeks were flushed, her pale skin stained pink, and her eyes... For once, her eyes were sultry and soft, all the sassy attitude seduced right out of them.

“Try any harder and I might start to think you’re desperate,” she teased.

He didn’t have a witty comeback for that, because the truth was, he was pretty desperate.

Not only had he wanted her from the first time he had seen her—brandishing a cleaver and threatening his life—but he also hadn’t had sex in months. Literal, actual months .

The only other times he’d gone this long had been back when he was in demon form, spending his days in feeding binges, consuming whatever and whoever crossed his path—

“Whoa, your eyes are glowing.” Iris leaned back. “Don’t go all demonic on me, big guy. I was just teasing.”

He shook his head roughly and then dove back in for the kiss.

Her palms traveled up the inside of his shirt while her tongue tangled with his, flicking against his piercing, and he just knew she would love it if he rubbed it on her clit.

Her fingernails scratched and scraped their way up his abs, and she moaned like he was her wet dream come to life.

A guy couldn’t help but feel good about that kind of reaction.

She started tugging up his shirt, so he broke the kiss, pulled back, and whipped it over his head, taking a second to toss it onto the table across the room because it was a dope shirt and he didn’t want her dog eating it.

When he turned back to Iris, she was staring at his body with her mouth open.

He grinned. He was really getting a self-esteem boost tonight.

Her gaze dragged back up to his face. “I think you need more tattoos.”

He frowned, glancing down at himself. “Really? Do you see somewhere I could fit them?”

“No, idiot, that’s called sarcasm. Your belly button is tattooed, for fuck’s sake.”

He looked at himself again, imagining it from her perspective, and had to admit that, yeah, he might have gone a little overboard. He had, in fact, covered every available inch of himself. His palms were tattooed. His elbows. His armpits.