LITMIR.BIZ

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choice.”

      “I could kill Tod for getting us into this.”

      “It’s a little late for that.” I wrinkled my nose in distaste when he dipped a piece of popcorn into the salsa jar, then tossed it into his mouth.

      “Weird.” Nash cocked his head to one side, chewing as he considered the odd combination. “But good-weird.”

      “You want something to put that in?” I stood to grab a bowl before he could answer. “When’s Tod supposed to be here?”

      He glanced at his watch. “He’s taking his break in about fifteen minutes. But knowing my brother, he’s already here somewhere, spying on us.”

      I set the bowl on the table and poured salsa into it. “He needs a life of his own. A girlfriend. Addison seems pretty interested in him….” I ventured, leaning over his shoulder to dip a popcorn kernel into the sauce. I hesitated, then finally closed my eyes and stuck it in my mouth.

      Eww! You’d think nacho seasoning and salsa would go well together, but they don’t. At least, not on popcorn.

      Nash laughed at me while I washed the taste from my mouth with a gulp from my can. “The last thing Tod needs is a soulless human husk of a girlfriend. Especially a famous one. He’s legally deceased, and she’s followed around all day by photographers. I can see the headline—Addison Page dates dead boy!”

      “Okay, so it’s not an obvious paring.” I shrugged and grabbed another handful of regular popcorn. “But it’s not like you and I are exactly simple.” Not with his mom teaching me bean sidhe stuff, and my dad watching his every move. Though, there was the little matter of our mutual species….

      “I like a challenge.” Nash stood, his irises swirling lazily. Hungrily.

      “Oh, yeah?” I smiled up at him and retreated slowly until my hip hit the countertop, my insides smoking from the heat of his gaze.

      “Yeah …” Nash stepped close enough that I could feel the warmth of his chest through both of our shirts. But he didn’t touch me. His head dipped toward my neck, and I inhaled sharply when his breath brushed my collarbone.

      I tilted my head back. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I held my breath, waiting to feel his lips on me. They would be soft, and hot. I knew it. I wanted it. But it didn’t happen.

      His head rose gradually, his breath traveling up my neck unbearably slowly. My pulse raced faster with each hot, damp puff against my skin. “Nash.” My arms rose, and my fingers hovered millimeters from his shirt when his warm hands wrapped around my wrists. Holding me. Stopping me.

      “Mmm?” His breath brushed my ear then, and shivers shot up my spine, lingering in pleasant places all over my body.

      “Let me touch you.” It came out as a moan, and part of me was mortified by the need in my voice. But he liked it. I could tell, and that made it okay.

      “Not yet,” he murmured, his words indistinct, a groan granted the bare minimum of consonants. The sound buffeted my earlobe. Scalding me.

      “Now,” I whispered. I couldn’t breathe. Not until I could touch him. Or he touched me. “Now. Please, Nash.”

      “Are you sure?” His words surged over me like a wave of heat, pulsing with barely controlled desire. Power. Compulsion. Considering his particular talents, he could probably have talked me into anything he wanted me to do, and that knowledge scared me and thrilled me at the same time. But he wouldn’t do it. He wanted me to want him on my own.

      Oh, and I did. I wanted him so badly every part of me ached, some places worse than others.

      Nash pulled back enough so that I could see the brown of his eyes, churning in a sea of green. And still his breath brushed my chin, sending a wave of sensation over me, so delicate I froze to keep from shattering it.

      Then I nodded. I was totally sure.

      Nash let go of my wrists, and one hand slid over my skin to the back of my neck, cradling my skull. He tilted my head to one side and his lips met mine, just as hot and soft as I’d known they’d be.

      I opened my mouth for him, drawing him in farther. Deeper. As much as I could take, and still I wanted more. My hands skimmed his chest, traveling boldly over each plane, each ridge, and soon that wasn’t enough, either, so I tugged his shirt up, eager for the feel of his flesh beneath my fingers.

      Nash’s free hand found my waist, squeezing. His fingers slid beneath the waistband of my jeans, gripping my hip, scalding me with each touch. I moaned into his mouth when his fingers tightened, and he kissed me harder, teasing me.

      My hands wrapped around his waist, traveling up the broad expanse of his back, smooth and hard, and.

      “Give it a rest, already,” Tod snapped from somewhere behind his brother. “It already smells like sex in here, and you’re both still dressed. You have no idea how messed up that is.”

      Nash stiffened and pulled away from me. Then his forehead fell against my shoulder, and he growled in warning at his brother, as my hands slid down his back and out of his shirt. Nash breathed heavily against my neck as he pulled his fingers slowly from my waistband. He wanted more. Was ready for more.

      I could feel his readiness against my hip.

      I couldn’t make my heart stop pounding. Couldn’t control my ragged breathing. Couldn’t cool my burning cheeks.

      Nash finally stepped away from me, and he was still breathing heavily, too. He shoved his hands into his pockets and collapsed into his chair.

      “You’re lucky no one else walked in on you,” Tod continued, snatching a chip from the bag, completely oblivious to our discomfort, as usual. “If I were her dad, you’d be hobbling home with your balls in hand tonight, little brother.”

      “Shut up, Tod!” I snapped, tugging my jeans into place below my navel, both delighted and mortified to realize I could still feel the warmth of Nash’s bare hand on my hip. “Or you’re not going to be in any shape to help Addison!”

      “Speaking of which.” Tod dipped his chip into the salsa, then crunched as he spoke. “I’d appreciate it if you two could keep your sticky fingers out of my personal life….”

      “What life?” Nash mumbled angrily. “Just sit down so we can get this over with. Kaylee’s dad will be home by nine, and we’d like at least a couple of hours alone before then.”

      Tod smirked. “You think she’s ready for any more time alone with you?”

      “Not your business, Tod. I’ll decide what I’m ready for.” I dropped into the chair across from him. “Your business is finding the hellion who has Addy’s soul, and figuring out how to get it back from him. Did you find her contract?”

      Tod scowled in defeat. “No. It took me three hours of digging and snooping this morning just to find out that all copies of demon paperwork are kept in the Netherworld.”

      “So, she never really had a shot at enacting her out-clause.” I shoved the bowl of salsa across the table, suddenly too angry to snack. “How did the others do it?”

      “They probably actually read their contracts,” Nash snapped.

      “Or else they went through Dekker again. I’m guessing he doesn’t care if they renege, so long as they provide a replacement soul.” Tod rocked back and forth on the uneven legs of his folding chair.

      “Lovely,” I spat, closing my eyes briefly in disgust. “Any idea how to ID the hellion on our own?”

      “No.” The reaper sighed in frustration and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “I’ve never actually met a hellion, and so far as I know, there’s no demon directory to refer to. Not that we have a name to look up.”

      “But hellions have specialties, right?” Nash asked. “Like, there’s a demon of pain,

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