Unleashing Your Inner Sex Demon
Killer haircut? $50.00.
Awesome Pedicure? $25.00.
A creepy antique chest? $100.00.
Unleashing hell on Earth? Priceless.

Beautician Lucia Gregory has a problem. This time, however, it’s not bunion ridden pedicures or a permanent gone horribly wrong. No, this time it’s much more serious. Who would have thought opening a simple chest could unleash the bowels of hell?  Then again, when the chest is clearly labeled Arca de Inferni--Chest of the Damned--she really should have known better. Overnight, she turns into a sexpot. Men who would never give her the time of day, including her gay coworkers, start throwing themselves at her feet. Then she meets Rafael, a darkly sexy man claiming to be a demon. He isn’t like the other men, that’s for sure. When most start flocking to her or groveling at her feet, he remains distant and aloof.  When he tells her she’s a sex-demon, she’s heard enough.
 
Rafael DeLeon, a Guardian Demon, is hell-bent on retrieving the Arca de Inferni. If it ends up in the wrong person’s hands, they will have the power to take over the world. When he finds the chest in a suburban hair studio, he can’t believe what else he finds. A beautiful succubus who has no idea of the power she possesses. Even he, as a demon, should be able to resist her charms. But the closer she gets to him, the more attracted to her he becomes.
   
However, the leader of the Infernati, an evil sect of demons, has his own plans.  He needs the chest and Lucy so he can finally control Earth. Rafe is determined to protect Lucy, who’d rather go out with guns blazing. Sparks begin to fly as both are unable to fight their growing attraction. Who would’ve known saving the earth could be so much fun?

 

Chapter Four

Revitalized by a sudden burst of sugar and espresso, I fumbled with the keys to the shop. Cold gusts of December air flicked at my face, sending shivers through my body. Sara would be meeting me later and I needed to catch up on some paperwork anyway. Hopefully, she would arrive sooner than later, so we could open the box and be done with it. I cracked my knuckles as an odd sense of excitement coursed through me. Taking confident strides into the building, I held my head high and allowed the tingles to tease my skin, oblivious to the swirling snow around me. I raked a hand through my hair and stretched.

Heading to my office, I recalled the strange events of the day. From Gerardo’s photography, to the almost orgasm from touching the chest, to Mrs. Carlson’s mushroom perm. Rafe... especially Rafe.

Never had I seen eyes so silver and vibrant, even more so than the jewelry I sold. His glistening dark hair that flowed down his back, beckoning me to reach out and touch it. Would he have reacted the same way he had to Gerardo? Then again having a dowdy hairsylist touching his gorgeous locks was probably the last thing Rafe wanted.

And how could I forget that body? Thick muscles straining against his t-shirt and leather pants that molded to each ripple and bulge. Ohmygod! He radiated power, and not just the physical kind.  But then he’d put Gerardo in a choke hold. Why did the drop dead sexy ones always have to be homophobes?

Settling into my office chair, I fired up my computer. The only thing I hated about running a business. Balancing the budget. Maybe someday I’d do well enough that I could hire an accountant. After a few hours of boring bookkeeping, I was ready to pound my head on the keyboard.

The sound of Justin Timberlake’s LoveStoned broke my thoughts. Rifling through my striped Dolce and Gabanna purse, I searched for my cell phone. Curse Sara for buying me such a ginormous purse. It was so frickin’ huge, I could have stuffed the Statue of Liberty in it if I tried hard enough.

Flipping up the receiver, I answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Open up. I’m waiting in the back.” Sara’s voice, full of urgency echoed in my ear. “I think someone’s following me and it’s freezing out here.”

Rolling my eyes, I chuckled. “Girl, you think everyone’s following you. It’s just some weird chest, not the Arc of the Covenant, for Christ’s sake.”
Something deep inside nagged at me, but I managed to ignore it. I really wanted to open this box. At first I thought it was to prove Sara wrong, but now something else drove me. Something dark and dangerous. Maybe opening this chest wasn’t such a hot idea after all.

“So are you going to let me in or what? Sara huffed with obvious irritation. “It’s kind of hard standing here with huge chest in my arms. Thank God for Bluetooth.” A loud clunk soon followed. “Damn! Just let me in.” The phone went dead.

Flinging my phone back into my purse, I trekked toward the back door. The sooner I let Sara in, the sooner we could open the chest. Then my stupid curiosity would finally be sated.

Sara’s pounding followed by a groan came muffled through the door. “Damn it! Stupid box. Ugh.”

“I’m coming!” I said in the most annoying singsong voice I could muster.

From the sounds of Sara’s grunts and grumbles, she was none too pleased. With a wide smile, I threw open the door.

Sara stood there glowering, the chest propped atop her pink Jimmy Choo clad foot. “It’s about damn time,” Sara grumbled, pulling her foot from under the chest. With another loud grumble, she kicked it. “Ouch.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Then don’t kick it.”

With an irritated huff, Sara hobbled into the shop. “Seriously, Lucy. This thing isn’t worth the trouble. I’d return it if I could.”

“Why can’t you?” I reached down to collect Sara’s forgotten chest and followed her inside.

Sara plopped down into one of the dryer seats and pulled her shoes off. “The guy said, ‘no returns.’ He seemed pretty eager to part with it.”

“So you don’t want to open it anymore?” Leave it to Sara to deflate my eager curiosity. “This was going to be the highlight of my evening.”

Sara chuckled. “Yeah, I know you’ve been waiting to burst the bubble in my overly active imagination.”

“Something like that,” I fibbed. It was obvious my reasons went deeper than that. Something about the chest had put my curiosity into overdrive. “To be honest, I thought it would be kind of fun, like we were in grade school again.”

Flailing her mangled Jimmy Choo in the air, Sara sucked in a deep breath. “Do you know how much these cost me?”

“More than your three paycheck box?” I asked, arching a brow.

Sara took an exhausted breath. “Okay, fine. You got me there. I exaggerated on the box. It was a steal. The guy couldn’t wait to get rid of it.”

“Yeah, a pentagram on the top of a box tends to do that to people,” I added matter-of-factly.

Sara shrugged. “I didn’t see the pentagram until you pointed it out. The only visible thing was the inscription.” Her gaze grew serious. “I know you think I’m a loon, but maybe we should just forget the box. I can put it on eBay.”

“Yeah you do that. I hate to see the freaks that bid on that thing.” Then again, I was the freak who was itching to open it. “Well we’ve got it here now, why don’t we just have some fun?”

Sara shifted in the chair and blew out a deep breath. “Fine. I Googled the eclipse. It’s supposed to happen just at two thirty.”

“In the morning?” I craned my head toward the clock on the wall. One a.m.? “Crap, time flies when you’re not having fun.”

“Yeah?” My friend arched a brow. “That’s why I have an accountant to handle my books. I frickin’ hate math.”

“You and me both.” I plopped into a chair next to her and stretched my legs. “I don’t have enough business to hire one yet.”

Grinning, Sara patted my back. “Soon, girl. Trust me. I’m sending a few of my best clients your way.”

“That’s awesome.” Knowing the type of clients Sara’s catering business had, I could make a killing. Then again Mrs. Carlson had been one of her clients. Yipee! “Just make sure they aren’t one of Mrs. Carlson’s cronies.”

Sara shook her head and snorted. “That old bat? I dropped her as a client. Way too demanding. You’d think she was the one getting married. I thought she’d sprout horns when I walked in earlier.” She sighed in relief. “You’re so lucky you dumped him.”

Why did everyone think I broke it off? “It was mutual. We dumped each other.” Raking my fingers through my hair, I craned my head toward the front window. My loud gasp echoed through the empty shop. The faint light of the moon trickled in. An eerie blood red hue surrounded the slowly eclipsing moon. If only I had a camera. Damn, where was Gerardo when you really needed him.

“Holy shit! Check that out!” I exclaimed, pointing at the creepy celestial body.

Sara stared, transfixed at the reddish orb. “Amazing! Well are you ready to do this or what?”

“I thought you didn’t want to do it anymore?”

Her lips curved into a wide grin, Sara shrugged. “Like you said. It’ll be a big sleepover, like in junior high.”

“Okay!” I leapt from the chair and skipped toward the box. Yeah, I know—I was taking this junior high thing way to seriously. Lugging it to the center of the room, I allowed the tingles, no longer painful, to fill my body. I threw my head back and allowed the current to race through me. Holy crap, it felt so good.

“Lucy!” Sara’s shout broke my daydream. “What the fuck?”

With heavy reluctance, I pulled my hands from the box. Wiping my damp brow, I turned to face her. “I told you it shocks me whenever I touch it."

“Shock?” Sara chuckled. “It looked like you were enjoying it. If that's electrocution, sign me up.”

Great! Now my friend thought I was into the kinky shit. Then again, that's what Josh had said. I was "too wild." How much fun was missionary position all the time? Sex should be fun and adventurous, not the same ole, same ole. I wonder what would've happened if I'd pulled out the Kama Sutra. Poor Josh, he would have had a coronary. Quite a feat for a thirty-something cardiologist.

His idea of fun was jogging five miles a day, and the most excitement I got from him was necking in a movie theater.  Oh boy! Call security! Then again, maybe that was his plan for a healthy ticker.  Recalling the many times I'd tried to spice up Josh’s dull life over the years, I allowed a devious smile to curve my lips.

Sara cleared her throat. "You look like the cat that just ate the canary. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," I said. "Just recalling my life with Josh."

Throwing her head back in laughter, she joined the box and I. "You mean the lack of life." She smiled, her gaze warm. "Trust me, Lucy. He gets it from his mom. Be very happy."

"Hello! It's been five years. I'm totally over him." Jeez! Enough was enough. "I'm happier than ever."

"Well, it's just that you haven't really dated anyone since him." Sara squatted down next to me. "People are starting to talk."

None of the men in this suburban hellhole that spark and life I needed, and it irritated me beyond reason. So here I was, putting on a mask of indifference.  I ground my teeth and my heart thudded. Gripping my fists tightly, I turned to my friend, my gaze ready to burn. "Let them talk." My voice came out deep and gravelly, almost inhuman.

Sara started and jumped back, her eyes filled with alarm. "You know, maybe we should call it a night. You're obviously stressed or in need of something else."

“Let’s not talk about my love life, alright?” I slammed my hand into my fist. What in the heck had come over me? “We came here to have fun, not argue,” I added, my voice softening.

“Deal,” Sara said offering me her hand. “On one condition.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Your condition?”

Her mouth spread into a wide smile. “We can’t talk about mine, either.”

“Deal.” I took her hand and shook then turned my attention back to the chest. “So let me look at that inscription again.”

After about a half an hour translation of the words, we needed to choose the victim. We solved it in the easiest of ways.

“Rock. Paper. Scissors!” Sara exclaimed, dancing around the box like a giddy schoolgirl. Then again, that was the purpose of this experiment, to relive our pre-teen years. To be honest, there really want much reliving. My mother kept me on homework lockdown. But much to her chagrin, I’d been able to rise up and put my fist down.

“Fine.” After all, it did beat a thumb war. I held out my fist, waiting for her to return the favor. Smiling, she nudged me with her fist.

“Rocks, paper scissors,” we both chanted. I held my hand in perfect scissor position.

Sara, unfortunate gal, held out her paper hand. A large pout quivered against her lip as a loud whoosh of air came from her nose. “I knew I should have called rock.”

"Oh well," I said with a smirk. Glancing at the dim, reddening moon, I narrowed my eyes. "You know, that's kind of creepy."

"I looked up some websites earlier. That's just the earth's reflection." She craned her head to join my gaze. "But you're right. It is creepy."

"Tell me about it," I said. "So how much longer?" I snuck a glance at the chest, my gut clenching. Not in fear but something more carnal. Like it contained a treasure trove of toys, and not the kind that you give a kid. Had it been that long that I was staring to crave inanimate objects? I seriously needed help.

"Like now," my friend replied.  I'ts two-twenty-five according to my watch." Sara held up her hand and twisted her wrist, sparkles glistening against the dimmed lights of the salon. Oh brother, yet another crazy purchase. But if you have the money, you might as well spend it.

"New watch?" I asked.

Sara shrugged. "It belonged to my granny. Just felt like wearing it for some reason."

I smiled and hugged my friend, allowing her comfort. Even though it had been almost a year since her grandmother's death, Sara still mourned from time to time. It wasn't my business to pry, but I knew Sara dealt with her grief the only way she could. And truth be told, I wasn't a psychologist anyway. Much to Mom’s chagrin, I’m sure.

"Let's do this," I said, pulling from our friendly embrace. With a quick lick of my lips, I focused my attention back to the chest.

As if a golden orb had surrounded it, the chest began to glow. Regardless of what I knew to be wrong or right, my body ignored my conscience. I took slow, almost sensual, steps toward the box. My lips spread into a devious smile as warmth enveloped me. Never had I felt so alive—save for the day I dropped out of med school. My stomach twisted in knots and my insides began to throb. I had to touch the chest, and no one was going to stop me.

Sara's concerned voice faintly echoed in my mind. "Lucy, are you okay? You're acting really strange." She reached out to grab my hand.

"I am fine," I gritted out, digging my nails into Sara's palm. "I know what I'm doing." The bad thing about it was I actually did, but I had no idea how I knew.

"Damn! That hurts," she yelped out and pulled her hand from my superhuman grip. "We should forget this, Lucy. Something isn't right."

I turned to face my friend and narrowed my eyes, my glare challenging.  With a wide calculated grin, I reached up to brush a stray hair from my friend's brow. "No, Sara. Everything is just right."

With that, I slammed my palm down into the handprint and closed my eyes.