"Her," Helena proclaimed, pointing at me, using the New Age raspy voice.
Warren eyed me curiously, as though actually assessing for flames. "Georgina?"
"She stole my employees. Just came in and took them like that. I could sue, you know. When I tell my lawyers - "
"Which employees?"
" Tammiand Janice."
I cringed, waiting to see what this new development would unleash. Despite his many shortcomings, Warren did have a smooth sense of customer service and professionalism. I worried what might ensue if my poaching received further investigation.
He frowned, trying to match faces with names apparently. "Wait... didn't one of them jump my car today?"
" Tammidid."
He snorted dismissively. "We're not giving them back."
Helena turned beet red. "You can't - "
"Ma'am, I am sorry for your inconvenience, but I can hardly pass back workers who have signed employment papers with us and are unwilling to work for you anymore. There's always turnover in retail. I'm sure you'll find someone soon."
She turned on me, still pointing. "I won't forget this. Even if I can't get you back for this, the universe will repay your cruel and twisted nature. You will die miserable and alone. Unloved. Friendless. Childless. Your life will have amounted to nothing."
So much for New Age love and kindness. I hardly feared her comments about dying, but the other adjectives dug in a little. Miserable and alone. Unloved. Friendless. Childless.
Warren, however, felt no such concerns for me. "Ma'am, Georgina's the last one I'd accuse of having a 'cruel' nature or leading a meaningless life. She holds this place together, and I trust her judgment implicitly - including the hiring of your former employees. Now unless you would like to make a purchase, I must ask you to leave before I'm forced to call the authorities."
Helena spouted off more curses and woes to us, no doubt entertaining the customers waiting in line. To my surprise, Warren continued holding his ground. He usually went out of his way to smooth customer relations and put our best foot forward, even at his employees' expense. Today he didn't apparently feel like humoring anyone. It was refreshing.
When Helena left, he retreated to his office without another word, and Doug and I stood there, astonishment quickly giving way to amusement.
"The things you cause, Kincaid."
"What? Don't peg that one on me."
"Are you kidding? Freaky witch women never showed up before you started working here."
"How would you know? I started before you." Checking my watch, I turned thoughtful. "You're still here for a while today, aren't you?"
"Yup. Lucky for you. Why?"
"No reason." I left him there and walked to the back offices. Instead of turning left for my office, however, I turned right into Warren's.
He sat at his desk, packing his briefcase, preparing to leave now that his car was ready. "Don't tell me she's back."
"No." I closed the door behind me. This made him look up. "I just wanted to thank you."
Warren eyed me shrewdly. "Kicking irrational customers out is part of my job."
"Yeah, but last time I didn't get praised. I had to apologize."
He shrugged, thinking of an incident from a year ago. "Well, that was different. You called an old woman a hypocritical, pathological Nazi neophyte."
"She was."
"If you say so." His eyes still watched my every move.
I walked over to him, setting the Bible down on his desk. Climbing onto his chair, I straddled his lap, making my tight red skirt ride up considerably, revealing the lace-covered tops of black thigh-highs underneath. I leaned in to kiss him, at first just running my teeth tauntingly over his lips, and then suddenly pressing my mouth in hard. He returned the kiss with equal fervor, hands automatically sliding up the backs of my thighs to cup my ass.
''Christ," he breathed when we broke apart slightly. One of his hands moved to my face, the other toyed with the thong I wore under my skirt. His fingers ran along its lacy edge and then pushed upward inside me, at first just delicately probing and then sliding up the full length. I was already wet from a sudden desire and breathed deeply as I savored those long, smooth strokes. Warren watched me with approval. "What's this all about?"
"What's what? We do this all the time."
"You never initiate it."
"I told you, I'm grateful."
That was true, actually. I had found his defense rather endearing. Also, still burning with Roman-lust and now maybe Seth-lust, I suddenly found Warren convenient in the wake of my grouchy succubus hunger.
The hand by my face wound up a lock of hair, and he turned pensive, although he didn't stop what he was doing between my legs. "Georgina... I hope... I hope you know what we do here in no way affects your job. You have no obligations - no danger of losing your position here if - "
I laughed out loud, surprised by this oddly considerate side. "I know that."
"I mean it - "
"I know that," I repeated, biting his lower lip with my teeth. "Don't go soft on me all of a sudden," I growled. "That's not what I'm here for."
He didn't interrupt again, and I let myself sink into the pleasure of contact. The feel of his tongue in my mouth, his hands brazenly exploring my body. After a long morning of sexual frustration, I just needed it from someone - anyone. He unbuttoned my blouse and tossed it to the floor, where it rested in a black, silken pile. My skirt and thong followed, leaving me only in thigh-highs, bra, and heels. All black.
He shifted his body, still in the chair, so that I could pull his pants off. Seeing him there - long, straight, and hard - made me move his hand out of me. Fingers no longer satisfied me. I wrapped my legs more tightly around his hips, as much as the chair would allow. Then, without further warning, I thrust my body down, plunging him inside me. I arched my body so that I could take him deeper, then moved in steady, repeated thrusts. Looking back down, I watched him glide in and out. There was no sound in the room save that of flesh on flesh and our heavy breathing.
With penetration came a flood of feeling and sensations from him - different from the physical ones. As a less noble soul, his energy and presence did not knock me across the room like Martin's had. Succubi absorption depended on the victim's character. Strong, moral souls yielded more to the succubus and took a huge bite out of the guy. Corrupt men lost less and consequently gave less. Regardless of his energy or moral fiber, I did catch snippets of Warren's thoughts and emotions as I rode him. This was normal. They came through with his life force.
Desire certainly was foremost in his mind. Smug pride at being with a younger, attractive woman. Excitement. Surprise. He had little remorse about cheating on his wife - contributing to the lower energy yield - and even the brief fondness for me he'd displayed earlier gave way to raw lust. So f**king hot. So wet. Love the way she rides me. Hope she comes and comes on top of me...
I did, as it turned out. My movements becoming harder and fiercer as our bodies slapped together. My leg muscles clenching. Neck arched back again. Breasts hot and sweaty from where he'd clutched them. The orgasm reverberating through me. Spasms of pleasure growing fainter and fainter as my breathing slowly returned to normal.
And the energy fix wasn't bad either. It had leaked into me slowly throughout our building passion, starting off as fine glittering threads. Near the end, however, it had become strong and bright, pouring into me, reinvigorating my own life, fueling my immortality in a glorious climax that rivaled the physical one.
When we both had our clothes back on, I made moves for an exit. Small energy loss or no, Warren always felt exhausted and worn after we'd been together. He thought it was the result of his age going up against a younger, more active woman. I did nothing to change his attitude but usually tried to discretely leave, so he wouldn't feel self-conscious around me in his fatigue. I knew it bothered him to think he couldn't keep up with me.
"Georgina?" he called as I moved to the door. "Why are you carrying a Bible? You aren't trying to convert customers, are you?"
"Oh. That. Just researching something for a friend. It's applicable, actually. All about sex."
He wiped sweat off his brow. "After years and years of church, I think I'd remember any good sex scenes."
"Well, it's not so much a scene as a clinical description of procreation."