Succubus in the City Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Nina Harper
option that I have exercised at times. If I have sex with a man and he is generous and attentive, if he makes sure I have pleasure before he does, I can let him live. In all the thousands of years I’ve lived, there have been only a few men like that. And they never want to actually date me. We have mind-blowing sex and they never call me again.
I want someone to think I’m special, not just for my perfect body or my Pantene-ad hair. Someone who’ll think I’m special even in the morning before I put on my makeup, even on the days when I feel fat and frumpy, someone who won’t ditch me because I get PMS and who thinks that I should go shopping when I’m feeling down.
In short, I want a boyfriend, a real boyfriend.
Satan has agreed. If someone falls in love with me and dates me without having sex with me for at least a month, and knows that I’m a succubus and loves me anyway, then I get back my soul and can be a mortal again. That’s in my contract.
Big if. In a few thousand years I’ve never even come close.
“You seem to be in some kind of mood,” Eros noted. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” I said, keeping my voice down although really I just wanted to wail. “Nothing. It just feels so meaningless. And lonely. You are the best friends on the planet, the best friends a girl ever had. But I’m tired of waking up alone every morning.”
“Oh, honey, yeah,” Desi said. “You’ve got a real hard time of it, we know. And it’s worse when you’ve got a bad one. Are you going out tonight? What say we rent some silly Bollywood musical and get takeout?”
“We can go to my place and make s’mores,” Eros suggested. “And paint our toenails.”
“But don’t you all have plans tonight?” I couldn’t bear any more guilt right now.
“Nothing that can’t be rescheduled,” Desi told me and Eros nodded. Even Sybil looked up from her decorating magazine and agreed.
I’ve got the best buds in the world.
chapter
FOUR
“We’ll call Martha and paint our toenails and relax,” Desi announced. “Like a pajama party. No boys,” she added with a faux junior high school sneer.
Satan, of course, was too busy to make it at the last minute. “I’m so sorry, dears, it sounds like a world of fun,” She told us, and I could hear the real regret in Her voice. “But I have some appointments that I just can’t reschedule, no matter how much more I would rather spend an evening eating s’mores and painting toenails. Next time, I promise.”
I felt badly for Her. Being the Prince of Evil was a 24/7 gig and She never got any downtime. If She didn’t have a weekly appointment for a massage and a facial at Bliss She would never get pampered just for Herself.
Once some sorcerer did a ritual in Australia right when She was in the middle of Her pedicure and tried to conjure Her to appear for some Satanic worship service. She sent Mephistopheles instead and was old Meph ever furious. He had just gotten seated for dinner at Morimoto and hadn’t even gotten his appetizer yet. That was one unhappy day in Hell, let me tell you. With the popularity of Iron Chef , it’s almost impossible to get a reservation at Morimoto, and Meph had been looking forward to that dinner for months.
That was one of the very few times I’ve ever seen Satan actually use straight-out magic just to please a minion. She created a reservation at Morimoto for Meph for nine p.m. on a Saturday night and made damn sure that the table was ready and waiting, too. She does take care of us. And She knows the value of a topflight dinner reservation.
These so-called magicians and sorcerers and such just get things so wrong. They think that we of the Underworld can make things happen according to their desires, and some we can. Sex and wealth, no problem. Can do looks for slightly more, and eternal youth is in the portfolio but only with the right specialists at the top of the line.
Love is much harder.
Dinner reservations at nine on
I want someone to think I’m special, not just for my perfect body or my Pantene-ad hair. Someone who’ll think I’m special even in the morning before I put on my makeup, even on the days when I feel fat and frumpy, someone who won’t ditch me because I get PMS and who thinks that I should go shopping when I’m feeling down.
In short, I want a boyfriend, a real boyfriend.
Satan has agreed. If someone falls in love with me and dates me without having sex with me for at least a month, and knows that I’m a succubus and loves me anyway, then I get back my soul and can be a mortal again. That’s in my contract.
Big if. In a few thousand years I’ve never even come close.
“You seem to be in some kind of mood,” Eros noted. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” I said, keeping my voice down although really I just wanted to wail. “Nothing. It just feels so meaningless. And lonely. You are the best friends on the planet, the best friends a girl ever had. But I’m tired of waking up alone every morning.”
“Oh, honey, yeah,” Desi said. “You’ve got a real hard time of it, we know. And it’s worse when you’ve got a bad one. Are you going out tonight? What say we rent some silly Bollywood musical and get takeout?”
“We can go to my place and make s’mores,” Eros suggested. “And paint our toenails.”
“But don’t you all have plans tonight?” I couldn’t bear any more guilt right now.
“Nothing that can’t be rescheduled,” Desi told me and Eros nodded. Even Sybil looked up from her decorating magazine and agreed.
I’ve got the best buds in the world.
chapter
FOUR
“We’ll call Martha and paint our toenails and relax,” Desi announced. “Like a pajama party. No boys,” she added with a faux junior high school sneer.
Satan, of course, was too busy to make it at the last minute. “I’m so sorry, dears, it sounds like a world of fun,” She told us, and I could hear the real regret in Her voice. “But I have some appointments that I just can’t reschedule, no matter how much more I would rather spend an evening eating s’mores and painting toenails. Next time, I promise.”
I felt badly for Her. Being the Prince of Evil was a 24/7 gig and She never got any downtime. If She didn’t have a weekly appointment for a massage and a facial at Bliss She would never get pampered just for Herself.
Once some sorcerer did a ritual in Australia right when She was in the middle of Her pedicure and tried to conjure Her to appear for some Satanic worship service. She sent Mephistopheles instead and was old Meph ever furious. He had just gotten seated for dinner at Morimoto and hadn’t even gotten his appetizer yet. That was one unhappy day in Hell, let me tell you. With the popularity of Iron Chef , it’s almost impossible to get a reservation at Morimoto, and Meph had been looking forward to that dinner for months.
That was one of the very few times I’ve ever seen Satan actually use straight-out magic just to please a minion. She created a reservation at Morimoto for Meph for nine p.m. on a Saturday night and made damn sure that the table was ready and waiting, too. She does take care of us. And She knows the value of a topflight dinner reservation.
These so-called magicians and sorcerers and such just get things so wrong. They think that we of the Underworld can make things happen according to their desires, and some we can. Sex and wealth, no problem. Can do looks for slightly more, and eternal youth is in the portfolio but only with the right specialists at the top of the line.
Love is much harder.
Dinner reservations at nine on