Virgin Daiquiri (Last Call #4) Read online

  Copyright Information

  Virgin Daiquiri

  Copyright © 2008 Moira Rogers

  http://www.moirarogers.com

  Smashwords edition.

  Originally published by Changeling Press in 2008. Reissued by the author in 2012.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Information

  Virgin Daiquiri

  Sneak Peek

  The Last Call Series

  About the Author

  Virgin Daiquiri

  Supernatural looking for a first lover.

  Caitlin Carlson swore when an overly enthusiastic dancer stepped off the floor and into her. Her vodka tonic splashed across the front of her blouse, plastering the thin fabric to her chest. “Terrific,” she mumbled. Oh, well. A see-through shirt might draw some attention when she ordered her next drink.

  The plain font on the menu in her hand stared mockingly up at her. She could order from the special house menu, let everyone know what she wanted, but it didn’t guarantee anyone would be interested in taking her upstairs.

  At least I’d get a free drink out of it, she thought grimly and climbed the steps leading to the central bar. She’d teased Ben once, telling him that a complimentary drink was a poor consolation prize if you’d come to the bar looking for a night of hot sex, but he’d just laughed. Probably because it almost never happens… please don’t happen now.

  She waved to Bernie, the bartender, whose friendly smile melted into alarm as he caught sight of the menu in her hands. When she stepped up to the bar, he gave her a stern look. “You’d better be up here to chat, girl, because I know you didn’t wait until Ben was out of town to come into his bar and serve yourself up on a platter.”

  Caitlin rolled her eyes and laid the menu on the bar. “Ben gets weird about it, but what’s the worst that could happen? We both know this place is warded to hell and back. It’s not like anyone’s going to hurt me.” She stopped talking when she realized she sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “Virgin daiquiri, please.”

  “Caitlin, come on.” Bernie braced two large hands on the counter and leaned down until he was face to face with her. “Honey, this is not the place you go to lose your virginity unless you’re the kind of magical that could kill your partner. And you’re not.”

  She leaned in, too. “I’m the prophesied daughter of the goddamned Dumitrescu family, Bernie. Whoever has sex with me first is going to piss off a whole line of dark witches. You think that couldn’t kill someone?”

  “Ben’s going to be back in a week. Maybe less. And I thought you had another year before the big mystical planetary alignment or whatever.”

  That had always been the theory, but a dream that hadn’t quite been a dream had told her differently. Even now her family was gathered somewhere, arguing over whether or not they should play it safe and wait out the year, or follow a more dangerous path that would leave her dead inside a month. Time was running out, and so were opportunities. She’d snuck past her family’s vigilant guardianship tonight with luck and her ability to see the future, but after tonight…

  She met Bernie’s eyes. “You really want to argue with a psychic about how much time she’s got left?”

  He hesitated just long enough for her to know she’d won. His gaze slid past her to the floor, and she imagined he was sizing up the men, wondering if any of them could be trusted with her. “Ben’s going to kill me,” he muttered as he reached up without looking and pulled down a clean glass. “He’s going to kick my ass up one side and down the other.”

  “If he tries,” she said smoothly, “you send him to me, and I’ll remind him it could be worse. I could still qualify for black magic sacrifices.”

  She pulled out a credit card and glanced around as he mixed the slushy drink. People were staring already; they always did when someone ordered from Bernie. She supposed they liked to speculate about what people wanted. What they needed.

  If they might be able to give it to them.

  Caitlin shivered and tugged at the hem of her skirt. It was too short, even for someone of her scant height, but she hadn’t wanted to look like a stereotypical virgin, even if she was one.

  Damn Ben, anyway. If he hadn’t gone and found the love of his life, Caitlin could have eventually worked up the nerve to ask him to do the honors. But he had, and she couldn’t fault him for that. Only now she was stuck finding some stranger to… deflower her? Make her a woman?

  She giggled and snorted, then took a deep breath. Three vodka tonics had perhaps been too many, but she’d needed them. She’d sip her daiquiri and wait until someone appropriate came along. She’d be choosy but not picky, and clear about the rules.

  It would be fine.

  Leo knew she was a virgin. He knew it before Bernie’s voice cut through the music and announced that the cute little brunette at the bar had ordered a virgin daiquiri. Seventeen hundred years on Earth had given him some finely-honed instincts, but he didn’t think there had ever been a time when a virgin psychic hadn’t stirred the magic inside him. He was, after all, a demon.

  And probably the only one in the bar who didn’t get hard at the thought of corrupting the woman. The half-dozen demons in Last Call were already winding through the crowd, intent on out-maneuvering each other to win the prize at the bar. Their excitement crackled through the crowd as an undercurrent only another demon could feel, and the whole thing made Leo feel just a little bit old.

  Then again, he was old. Most demons corrupted their way to a higher -- well, lower -- plane well before five hundred years had passed. He’d never understood their desire to leave Earth, not even in the tumultuous years before modern conveniences. And now…

  Life as a filthy rich playboy suited Leo. He liked the willing women and the satellite cable and life in a world of both light and dark. And he really liked enjoying sex because it was fun, and not because he’d get frequent corrupter miles that could be traded in for favors from the evil powers.

  So he told himself he wasn’t interested in the hot little number at the bar, even if he was already halfway to hard and admiring the way her too-short skirt bared a gorgeous expanse of leg.

  But he wasn’t interested in her. He wasn’t.

  A bar regular -- Michael, he remembered -- whistled as he walked over. “Bernie’s calling an SOS. Says the Virgin Daiquiri is a friend of Ben’s, and it’s up to you to make sure she doesn’t take a demon upstairs.”

  Being the oldest demon in the northern hemisphere did have its disadvantages, like being expected to keep the rest of them in line just because they were terrified of him. Leo sighed and glanced at the bar, where the huge bartender was watching the approaching wave of demons with a determined look. “None of them will harm her,” he felt compelled to point out. “Place is too well warded for that. Worst they can do is whisper some dirty promises in her ear, and Ben can straighten her out later.”

  The woman surveyed the bar patrons with an almost defiant expression. Her dark eyes met his and widened for a split second before she turned away quickly.

  Michael eyed the demons circling the dais. “Who is she? Do you know?”

  She did look familiar, but Leo couldn’t put his finger on why. “Not a clue. I suppose I should fi
nd out, though. For Bernie’s sake.” Yeah, Bernie’s sake. It was as good an excuse as any.

  Two demons hurried out of the way as he approached the bar, both casting him annoyed looks that were as close to insolent as they would get. Leo ignored them and took the steps two at a time. “What’s going on, Bernie?”

  Before the bartender could answer, the woman -- who barely came up to his shoulder -- cleared her throat. “Excuse me. Bernie is trying to be subtle about this, and I’m sure you will be, as well, but… Could you both just please mind your own business so I can take someone upstairs and lose my damn virginity?”

  Leo pretended to ignore her even as his body vibrated from her proximity. “What’s got her so hot to get a man between her legs?”

  Bernie grimaced, and the brunette arched an eyebrow at Leo. “I like the prospect of making it impossible for my family to kill me and ratchet up their delicious evil powers.” Even as her lush red lips formed the words, she hooked a hand into his belt and pulled him closer. “It makes me hot.”

  Distracted as he was by her mouth, he didn’t notice her lift her glass. He didn’t notice anything, actually, until she smiled and poured the frozen drink down his pants.

  The music didn’t stop, but all movement on the dance floor did. The regulars of Last Call caught their collective breath and watched as Leo stood frozen in place while fruity slush dripped down his legs.

  It really should have killed his erection, and he was more than a little pissed off when it didn’t. If anything, he was harder than ever. But then, he’d always been a sucker for a challenge.

  And she was apparently a good one. The mention of virgin sacrifice meant she belonged to one of the prominent magical families that dominated New York, fighting meaningless little battles to gain the slightest advantage. But human sacrifice was the darkest of all magics, and someone with that sort of blood would never have made it through Last Call’s wards, unless…

  Leo glanced at Bernie again and lowered his voice, hoping to keep his words from any members of the gawking crowd who happened to possess superhearing. “She’s the Dumitrescu girl, I take it?”

  “I am,” she answered, holding out her hand as though she hadn’t just dumped a drink on him. “Caitlin Carlson.”

  She was a little bit insane, and it was making him hot. He took her hand and teased his thumb along the backs of her fingers in the slightest caress. “Caitlin Carlson. Do you know why everyone’s staring at you?”

  Her bland expression didn’t change, but he felt the slight shiver that ran through her. “Because they figured out my identity before you did?”

  “Because you just dumped a frozen drink down the pants of a seventeen hundred year old demon.” He turned her hand over and traced his finger along her palm. “Luckily, all of the rest of the demons salivating over you are scared sick of me. Ben considers me a tolerable sort of fellow and fairly trustworthy. So if you’re determined to go upstairs, you should bring me with you.”

  She pulled her hand free of his with a laugh. “Then you must be Leofric.” Her gaze roamed over him, and the corner of her mouth tugged up into a smile. “Ben’s right. You look like a surfer. Bernie?”

  Bernie started a little and cleared his throat. “Tall, blond, built. Surfer, sure.”

  “Not that.” Caitlin held out her hand.

  He made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, but he reached under the bar and retrieved a key card. “Why couldn’t you have pulled this stunt while Ben was in town?”

  “Because destiny is complicated.” With those cryptic words, she plucked the card from Bernie’s fingers and headed for the back steps, toward the elevators.

  Leo shrugged at Bernie and flashed him a grin. “I’ll be good, man. Last thing I want is to get kicked out of my favorite hangout.”

  “Sure, I’ll tell Ben that when he comes for my head.”

  “You do that.” Leo winked and strode past the bar, still trying to convince himself he was only going upstairs to save the girl from herself.

  It was such bullshit even he didn’t believe it.

  Caitlin’s hand shook so badly it took her three tries to call the elevator. She dealt with practitioners of black magic every day, but demons were beyond her realm of experience. She tried to stay far away from dark magic as a rule, and demons were about as dark as you could go.

  A moment of doubt shook her. Was she mistaken about her vision? Usually, her precognition was reliable, and it had led her to Last Call tonight. The dream had been clear -- a room, Caitlin, and a man above her.

  What she hadn’t realized was that the tall, buff and naked man in her dream was a centuries-old demon. Mistaken identity?

  If so, she’d be screwed, in more ways than one.

  He stepped up behind her as the elevator car dinged its arrival. The doors slid open, and she felt a warm, gentle hand at her back. “You sure you want to go through with this?”

  “I’m sure.” Caitlin didn’t want to talk about this being the only way to ensure her safety, didn’t even want to think about. She boarded the elevator and slid the key into the panel. “You coming?”

  “Mmm, if you let me.” He gave her a wicked smile and followed her into the elevator, where he leaned against the wall and studied her. He didn’t speak again until the doors closed. “Are you scared of what you’re going to do? Or are you scared of me, of what I am?”

  “I’m scared of a lot of things.” She shrugged and tried to ignore the stab of heat his smile sent through her. “You’re the least of my worries at the moment, if that helps.”

  He pushed off the wall and moved toward her, slow enough to give her plenty of time to avoid him. When she held her ground, his smile widened and he braced one hand against the wall next to her head. “Am I? I’m not sure if I should be relieved or a little bit insulted.”

  Caitlin swallowed hard and focused on the strong line of his jaw. “Considering most of my worries want to kill me, I recommend relieved.”

  “Yes, and that’s my problem.” One warm finger slid under her chin, coaxing her head back until she had to meet his gaze. “I don’t make it a habit of going to bed with unwilling women. And I’m not sure this counts as willing, when the alternative is death.”

  She laughed because she wanted to moan. “That’s cute. And terribly condescending. If you’re that worried about it, I suppose we can go back downstairs and I can find someone with more flexible sexual morals.”

  “Condescending?” His hand landed against the wall on the other side of her head, leaving her trapped as he leaned down until his eyes were on level with hers. “You like pushing your luck, don’t you?”

  She’d lived every day in more danger than the demon before her presented; Caitlin knew it on a visceral level. “Is that what I’m doing? The way I see it, I have decided. I came here instead of picking up some schmuck off the street. And I’m not…” She felt her calm, vaguely amused façade crack a little. “I’m not unwilling.”

  His lips almost touched hers, then retreated. “Your body’s not. What about the rest of you?”

  She caught herself following his mouth as it moved further away. That he could weave a spell over her so easily was shocking. “For someone who’s supposed to get off on corrupting innocents, you seem rather unwilling.”

  The elevator coasted to a stop, and Leo straightened with a lazy chuckle that heated her blood. “You don’t know much about demons, do you?”

  “No. Most of the evil I see is of the human variety.” She snatched the key card and checked the room number as she hurried out of the elevator. “Five-twelve. Know where it is?”

  “End of the hallway. Last door on the right.” She hadn’t heard so much as a footstep to indicate he’d followed her, but his voice came from just behind her left shoulder. “Demons aren’t inherently evil, you know. We’re not scared of holy objects, we’re encouraged to take the Lord’s name in vain as often as possible, and there’s even one demon in New York who volunteers at a church soup kit
chen. Most of us have our vices, I admit, but just because our job is to corrupt and cause chaos, it doesn’t mean we all do it with equal enthusiasm.”

  “I stand corrected, then.” He was tall and broad through the shoulders, and it felt like he took up the entire hallway. “Where do you fall on the spectrum? Love your job or hate it?”

  “Neither. I just flat-out don’t do it. Work’s a drag. I’d rather play.”

  Yet here he was, about to spend at least part of his night guiding a nervous virgin through her first sexual encounter. Caitlin wrinkled her nose at him as she opened the door. “Then what are you doing up here with me? There are plenty of better playmates downstairs.”

  “Sex is fun.” He touched her lower back again and nudged her over the threshold. “You’re hot. And it’s been a few hundred years since someone dumped a drink on me on purpose.” The door closed behind them with a soft click. “Of course, that means I need a shower first. Fruity drinks are sticky.”

  Guilt and mortification nearly overwhelmed her. “Sorry about that. Uh, take your time. I’ll wait. Or did you…” She cleared her throat and nodded toward the bathroom door. “Did you want to just do it in the shower?”

  Leo studied her, his green eyes unreadable. Then he tilted his head to one side. “You can join me in the shower, but I’m not going to fuck you there.”

  Frustration stabbed through her, but Caitlin just tugged her shirt over her head. “Why not?”

  His gaze dropped to her chest, and he smiled as he leaned down to pull off his boots. “Because a shower’s a lousy place to lose your virginity. You’ve been watching too much porn.”

  “The virginity is technical.” Don’t blush, don’t you dare blush. “Just because I’ve never had a man inside me doesn’t mean I’m… untried.”

  “Uh-huh.” When he was barefoot, he padded across the room in the direction of the bathroom, discarding his shirt along the way and leaving her with a breathtaking view of gorgeous shoulders and a smooth, muscled back. “I’m not a mortal man, cutie pie. If anything in your underwear drawer could compare, demons wouldn’t get laid so much.”