Part 24 (2/2)
SO I MARRIED A DEMON SLAYER,.
featuring Kathy Love, Angie Fox, and Lexi George-Angie's
”What Slays in Vegas” . . .
Sunlight stung her eyeb.a.l.l.s even though she hadn't opened them. s.h.i.+loh covered her eyes with her arm and groaned. She felt dizzy, weak. Her head throbbed with the worst hangover since that three-day wine binge through Sodom, Gomorrah and Zebiom.
And she hadn't even had any alcohol last night.
She stretched, sore from last night's activities with Damien. At least one thing had gone right. Damien had been exactly what she needed.
In fact, he was amazing.
So why'd she feel like h.e.l.l?
She blinked against the bright morning, wis.h.i.+ng she could lie in bed for the rest of eternity. Maybe she'd just close her light-blocking shades and go back to bed.
She didn't even remember making it home last night.
In fact, she didn't remember anything after that blinding o.r.g.a.s.m. Strange. That had never happened to her before.
A flutter of a grin crossed her lips. If she was going to remember one thing, let it be her night in the l.u.s.t room.
She groaned into a sitting position and threw one leg onto the floor, stopping short when her toes came in contact with carpet. Her bedroom had hardwood floors. s.h.i.+loh's eyes flew open and she gasped as she saw a nicked wooden end table. A white ceramic lamp. Beige curtains. She was in a hotel room.
Out the window, she could see the roller coaster at the New York-New York hotel. Oh thank Hades. She flopped back against the pillow. She was in Vegas. Okay. She placed a hand on her chest. She was a few blocks from home. No need to panic.
Breathe.
Although something on her left hand didn't feel right. It was like a heavy weight on her finger. She glanced down to the hand on her chest and shrieked. There, on her left ring finger, was a gold band with a diamond on it the size of Switzerland.
She stared at it like she'd never seen one before. In all fairness, she hadn't. At least not on her hand.
From her right came a bellowing snore. She scrambled off the bed and stood staring down at Damien, tousled and wickedly naked.
What the h.e.l.l happened last night?
She didn't remember a thing.
She rubbed her temples. Think, think, think.
Okay. She went to work, bribed the fairy, practically mauled Damien. That part had been a lot of fun. She'd felt her power flow out of her in an amazing o.r.g.a.s.m and then . . . nothing.
Just a cheap hotel room, a hot man and a diamond ring.
She yanked at the gold band. It was big enough to slip off easily, but it refused to budge. The obnoxious diamond clung as if it were welded onto her.
It glinted in the morning sun, mocking her.
She couldn't be married. Succubi didn't get married. Ever.
Her eyes stung and she rubbed at them. Even if she wanted to get married, she couldn't marry a client from the l.u.s.t floor. It didn't matter that he was the best s.e.x she'd had in a thousand years.
And how dare Damien sleep at a time like this?
”Get up!” She crawled across the bed and yanked him onto his back. Her heart stuttered when she saw that he wore a gold band on his left finger too. Oh Hades. She'd been afraid of that. ”Wake up. This is an emergency!”
He threw his arms up over his eyes. ”What's the . . . ?”
”Damien”-she yanked his arms down-”what did you do to me?”
He gazed at her with bleary eyes, confusion tumbling across his features. ”What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice gravelly and a bit too indignant for her taste.
She smacked him with her pillow. ”That's what I want to know.”
He sat up faster than she expected. She could see he was still woozy. ”Don't touch me,” he warned.
”You sure didn't mind it last night,” she shot back, pleased when a flush crept up his neck. Bull's eye. ”Now fess up. What did you do to me?”
With the grace of a cat, he was out of bed. He strode toward a s.h.i.+ny silver suitcase on a luggage stand, displaying his frustratingly perfect b.u.t.t.
He yanked the case open, his eyes on her the whole time. ”I didn't do anything to you.” He reached inside with one hand and grabbed hold of something she couldn't see.
Frankly, she didn't care. ”You made me pa.s.s out. Want me to show you what happened next?” Maybe he had some memory of it. She shoved her obnoxiously ringed hand at him. ”You married me.”
He blinked twice and slowly removed his hand from whatever was in the case. ”I couldn't.”
She planted a hand on her hip. ”Check your hand, sweetie.”
He lifted it out of the case and went white as he stared at the gold ring on his finger. ”I can't be married,” he said to his hand.
She had to smile. Briefly.
Oh, who was she kidding? This was a mess.
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