“The fuck, dude?” Tony shrugs me off but keeps walking beside me, matching my stride. “I was playin’ around.” Then he scoffs. “We’ve never let pussy get between us before?—”
I swing my fist and melt it right into the side of his face to shut him up, only knocking him back one step before we both continue walking again.
“Not cool,” he says, rubbing his cheek. “Also, not sure if you’re aware, but I can smell demon residue all over this place. Let’s fight in the yard so we can create more.”
“Do you want a Tor’Oth to come here and drag us back?”
He stops me with a hand to my chest. “Uh, yes? I need my wingman.”
“I’m not going back there. I can’t.”
“Nothing to do with the pretty little ghost?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Knew you wanted to fuck her. You’ve never been this jealous before, not even when I slept with your fuck buddy.”
Fuck buddy is a loose term. In Hell, it’s basically innate behavior around our kind to have group sex—or orgies, as humans call them. The one I usually stuck my dick in ended up latched on to Tony, and he’s never let me live it down since.
Sex is just sex. It means nothing to me.
Unless it involves a certain ghostly human, who probably has one hundred thousand questions for me now thanks to Tony’s arrival.
Giving him any sort of reply would only encourage him, so I shake my head and take a sharp left, knowing he’ll trail me.
Down the stairs, we head to the dining room, and I slam the door shut to make sure Sable can’t hear us.
“What the fuck?”
He tilts his head. “I’m not following. Ain’t you happy to see me? I don’t feel very welcome here. Do you want me to go back?”
“You can do that?”
He looks puzzled now. “Can’t you?”
“No.”
“Oh, I thought youwantedto hang around the chick you have a crush on.” He laughs. “The guys are gonna love this.”
The thought of everyone in Hell knowing I’m here makes me straighten my spine. They’ll come here—drag me back and… hurt Sable.
Not that I give a fuck.
“You can’t tell anyone I’m here,” I say, sitting down at the table.
He sighs and takes the seat next to me, angling his chair to face me.
When he stays silent, I lean my elbows on my knees. “You can’t.”
“Under one condition.”
“What?”
He smirks. “Tell me you ain’t tapping that?”
“Fuck me,” I mutter, leaning back on the chair, closing my eyes when I feel her getting closer, closer, closer, until the door swings open and…
“I have questions.”
