Jenna Black - The Devil's Due

“Do we have to do this now?” I complained, and Lugh answered with another stab. I grumbled some more, but figured I might as well get it over with.

Once, when the bad guys had been about to burn me at the stake, I’d voluntarily let Lugh take control of my body to save the day. It had taken a monumental effort, and though he’d ceded control back to me afterward, the experience had left me shaken to the core. Recently, when I’d desperately needed to let him in, I’d found myself unable to do it. Lugh had eventually managed to take control, but by then I very much didn’t want him to.

I’d been seriously pissed at him for taking control of my body without my permission, and he’d promised me he’d never do it again—on one condition: that I learn how to let him in voluntarily when the situation warranted.

To that end, I dutifully tried once a night to let myself cede control to him. So far, I hadn’t succeeded, and I had a sinking feeling that wasn’t going to change. I’m a control freak by nature, and letting a demon—even one as benevolent as Lugh—take control of my body was my worst nightmare come true.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to relax enough to have a hope, however slim, of success. My muscles remained tight, and I was twitchy enough to have trouble keeping my eyes closed, so I got up and turned out all the lights, then reclined on my uncomfortable couch in hopes that that would be more relaxing.

I was still tense, and I noticed I was grinding my teeth. I huffed out a deep breath, then started on the litany of relaxation exercises Lugh had taught me. As usual, my mind kept running on its damn gerbil wheel, analyzing my body’s responses instead of letting go and drifting like it was supposed to. I thought I felt a pulse of frustration that wasn’t my own, but it was hard to be sure.

I tried my best for a half hour, but I didn’t even manage to get myself relaxed, much less let Lugh take control. He gave me another stab of pain when I gave up, but he had to sense how pointless it would have been to keep trying, so he let me be after that.

I didn’t go to bed until well after midnight, not because I wasn’t tired, but because I knew Lugh was going to have some words for me tonight and I wanted to put it off as long as possible. It was only when I almost nodded off on the couch that I decided it was time to face the music. If I was going to fall asleep and dream of Lugh, I’d rather do it in the comfort of my bed.

Sure enough, the moment I lost consciousness, I awakened in Lugh’s imaginary living room. I found myself reclining into the butter-soft embrace of a leather sofa, my bare feet propped in Lugh’s lap as he sat facing me on the matching ottoman.

I opened my mouth to protest the intimacy of the position, but at the same instant, he ran a strong, warm thumb up the center of my right foot. The pressure was just right, and I bit my tongue to suppress a moan as my toes curled in pleasure.

Lugh’s hair was unbound tonight, the long, raven’s wing tresses partially hiding his face, but I saw one corner of his mouth turn up with satisfied amusement. The bastard always knows exactly what buttons to push.

Before I could get pissy about it, he cupped my foot in both hands, using his thumbs to search out each knot of tension and soothe it away. I decided that protesting something that felt this good was the height of stupidity, so I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the sensations.

I was warm and mellow when he’d finished with my right foot, and I was practically putty in his hands when he’d finished the left. Then he slid his hands up my calf, kneading the muscles. It felt damn good, but I couldn’t help opening my eyes and seeing that the sweatpants I’d been wearing when the dream began had disappeared, and I was dressed in nothing but a T-shirt and panties.

My feet were still in his lap, so I instinctively jammed my heel into his crotch to discourage his now wandering hands. Of course, since his body was just an illusion, he wasn’t even slightly discouraged. In fact, he closed his thighs tightly around my foot, holding it in place and pressing his erection against it. I had to suppress a shudder. I’ve got big feet for a woman, and his hard-on stretched from my heel to my toes.

“Unless you’re auditioning for a role as a porn star, you might want to consider a more realistic size,” I quipped, though my voice came out breathless.

He laughed, a sound as delicious as the darkest chocolate. “The advantage of dreams is they are not slaves to reality.”

I tried to pull my trapped foot away, but I wasn’t going anywhere unless he wanted me to. This was one of the reasons I hadn’t particularly wanted to see him tonight—his flirting was getting progressively more aggressive. And harder to resist.

“Will you knock it off, already? I’m not in the mood to play games.”

He regarded me intensely, cocking his head as he thought. Then he released my foot, and my sweatpants reappeared. “No, I suppose you’re not,” he conceded. Score one for me!

“Of course, I’m also not in the mood to be lectured, so if that’s your plan, you might as well give it up.” I sat up straight and put my feet flat on the floor.

The ottoman disappeared, replaced by an armchair that sat uncomfortably close to the sofa, crowding me. Lugh knew perfectly well how much I liked my personal space, but I decided it would take too much energy to protest.

“You need to learn how to let me in,” he said simply.

I scowled at him. “Yeah, I know. I’m trying as hard as I can.”

“No, you’re not.”

The nerve of some people! “I don’t know what else you expect me to do. I’ve tried every relaxation technique you’ve taught me. I just don’t know how to turn off my need to be in control.”

“You could do it if you truly wanted to, but you’re still fighting it.”

“I am not!” I sounded like a petulant child, but I couldn’t help it. I’d spent at least a half hour tonight trying with everything I had to let him in, and I’d done so every night for the last two weeks. I don’t think I’d ever tried that hard to do anything in my entire life.

Lugh crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, looking stern. “I’ll grant that you’re spending time on the project, but your heart isn’t in it. You’re still afraid that if you let me in, I’ll never let you back in control.”

I swallowed the protest I’d been about to make, because I recognized the truth when I heard it. Trust had never been one of my strong suits, and what little I’d had had been whittled away by a series of betrayals that still left me reeling.

I stared down at my hands, because it was too hard to look into Lugh’s reproachful eyes. “The last time you were in control, you shut me out and killed my father.”

Being shut out of my own body had been the single most terrifying experience of my life. And considering my life, that was saying a lot. I’d been completely unaware of what was happening in the real world, my consciousness imprisoned in a deep, dark, claustrophobic oubliette. I’d like to think that him using my body to murder my father—at least, the man who’d raised me as his own for all my life, even though he wasn’t my biological father—was the worst part about that memory, but I know it’s not true.

“I did what was necessary under the circumstances,” he said softly.

“I know that.” My father had been possessed by a sociopathic demon who knew far too much to be allowed to return to the Demon Realm. He’d had to die, but despite my less-than-stellar relationship with him, there was no way I could have killed him. So my semi-ex-boyfriend, Brian, had held me down until Lugh fought his way to the surface. I had yet to forgive either one of them.