Deal with the Devil (18+)

19| Queen of Broken Hearts

Having sex at least once a week is associated with slower cellular ageing and having a higher life expectancy.

Luca's p.o.v

BANG. BANG.

I groaned at the abrasive banging at my bedroom door. It was only day three in the Paris house and I was already waking up with God awful hangovers.

I didn't normally like to make a habit of waking up late, despite the whole 'Vampire' stereotype, however, last night after dealing with our target I'd stayed up a little too late drinking into the early hours with Lewis. It was fun at the time but now I was severely paying the consequences of it. The bedsheets formed a tent and I groaned at the dirty thoughts pulling my mind down the gutter. Horny and hungry, not the best combination this early in the morning.

All I ever used to have were dark, twisted nightmares, and in many ways I preferred them to the kind of dreams I'd been more frequently experiencing. I hate these new happy dreams because I know that when I wake up, she won't be there to finish what she started. She wouldn't be there full stop.

It was hell, and not the kind I was used to.

There was more motion from behind the door. Bloody Hell, this will be Jax trying to have a go at me for getting so carried away with Lewis last night, I thought with a groan. The last thing I needed right now was his nerve-grating voice in my face. I padded across the paneled flooring that led to the door, fully prepared to tell him to go fuck off and then crawl back into bed, but then I caught the unmistakeable edge of a familiar feminine voice. Oh for Lucifer's sake.

"Luca! Can you please open the damn door?"

Evelyn. Her soft voice had my feet instantly wanting to go in her direction and I let out groan at the male part of me that couldn't resist her undeniable charm. I debated not opening the door but knew she would only barge on in if I didn't.

BANG. BANG!

"Luca, I swear to God if you let this coffee go cold I will-"

"Will what?" I yanked the door open and grinned down at the scowl on her face. "Jesus Scotty, no need to get your panties in a twist."

"Don't call me that." Her features faded into a mask of calm indifference as she glared up at me, armed with two mugs of steaming coffee. Fine by me. I vaguely acknowledged the fact that she had a determined look on her pixie-like face that didn't have any right to be there this early in the morning, and then tried to close the door in her face.

"Coffee." Her foot jammed between the door and the fame, preventing me from closing it on her. This girl.

"I don't want coffee, I want blood." Upon second thought I then added, "Or preferably sex if the offer is on the table. No? Then I'm gonna go back to bed." I tried to close the door once again but she forcefully pushed the small mug against my chest and I had no other option but to reach out before it spilled. I was still shirtless from sleep, and didn't feel like having to heal third degree burns this early in the morning.

"Bloody Hell!" I reluctantly took the cup from her and took a slow sip, hoping it wasn't poisoned, before muttering, "In which mental institution did they find you?"

She grinned despite my comment. "Probably in the same one they found you." She propped her hands on her hips defensively but I didn't miss the playful gesture behind the stance. She was daring me. "Rough night?"

I released a long sigh, rubbing absentmindedly at the dark shadows beneath my sleep deprived eyes. "You might say that." It was not soon after that, that my sleep deprived brain registered how she wasn't dressed in normal clothes. The sleep-induced fog seemed to clear from my eyes and I instantly noticed that she was dressed in nothing but a small pair of sleep shorts and a casual, pink tank top with white lace framing the neck line. My dick stirred at the sight of her bare legs in a way I didn't wish to acknowledge; I wanted them wrapped around my waist.