Incubus

6. Phoenix

"Jessica, please, indulge me."

"I'd rather not."

"I'll tell you something about me," he volunteered. Secretly intrigued, I didn't move or say a word. "In the Renaissance period when I was first around, I used to come only to women who had fine taste in wine. So Scottish and French women were my favorite."

I turned to look back at him. "Why?"

He smiled gloriously, probably remembering the encounters. "Women who have finer tastes in wine have fine minds, Jessica. I never came to the super lonely women or the extremely attractive women; I would come to the enlightened women."

"Because you like to watch them break. You like to ruin them," I mumbled, appalled. I grew cold.

The demon's eyes flashed as he frowned. If he weren't mad at my comment it would be kind of...cute. "No, because I like watching them come alive," he whispered, his voice husky. I gasped and then his eyes flashed to mine. "Take you for example; you're intellectually enlightened, sometimes causing you to become detached with people who do not stand in your intellectual light. But when you explore your sexuality, you get this light in your eyes and this confidence in your body that opens you up to life and you are reborn like a phoenix bursting through the flames to stand strong. I have never seen someone so alive until I've met you."

I shuddered, my face filled with warmth, my legs pooling with white hot heat so powerful I was stuck to my chair. I grew hyperaware of my body and of him across from me. His eyes assessed me coolly and then he smiled wickedly.

"Tell me something about you that no one knows," he resurfaced.

My God I want him so bad. Why? Why? Why? He's right, I did want this dream, I want him. When I want him I can only do one thing—obey. "How Helen and I became friends is that at a party back in college, we had drunken sex and we woke up laughing because we couldn't believe it, me more than her, and then we just started hanging out all of the time and here we are."

The demon's lip twitched and then he laughed. It was a glorious sound—deep, masculine, and warm—that filled the dining hall. "I would have never guessed."

I smiled against my will. "We don't ever talk about it. It's like that one drunken thing we don't discuss."

"I see. Interesting. Once again, you beguile me, truly." He rubbed his slender fingers across his still reddened lips and I squirmed in my seat. His eyes didn't miss it. "You should try the wine, Jessica; show me that I'm attracted to someone with a fine sense of taste. Indulge me, will you?" He gestured to the goblet in front of me and against my better judgement, I obeyed.

I picked up the crystal goblet and sniffed the wine, smelling its potency and richness before putting it to my lips and taking a sip. Immediately upon the wine touching my tongue, I moaned. It tastes incredible and strong, a fine and old wine so bitter that it was enticing. People would kill for this wine, literally. It warmed me up from the inside and then a funny thought came to me. What if like in the mythical land of the faeries that if you eat or drink in your dream you must stay forever? I smiled, setting the goblet back down on the table.

I licked my lips and then looked back to the demon who is staring at me with eyes so red that I melted in my seat. If only he weren't so far away, if only he would touch me.

"How does it taste?" he asked, breathless.

Winded as well, I responded with, "Marvelous."

His breath caught and our eyes latched on one another, my chest rising and falling in my little white camisole that didn't require a bra, then our crystal goblets were crashing to the floor of the golden dining hall and the demon and I reached across the table for one another.