Althea was an immortal succubus, dedicated to a life of sexual pleasure. She lived her life on her own terms, caring little for others. However, one fateful day she was torn out of her own body by a deranged mortal. Forced to take shelter in the nearest woman, how will she regain her power and her body?
Rachel Wainwright was a successful attorney, but one with a troubled home life. Separated from her husband, fighting with her children, her life was cold and sterile. When her long-forgotten sexuality returns to her, how will it affect her, and those around her?
Althea now shares Rachel's body and her mind. To return to her own form, she must take power from Rachel's pleasure. And to do that, she must find work for her...Idle Hands.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
~You want him.~ a quiet voice whispered. ~Why not give him a suitable parting gift?~
Deliberately, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, drawing his gaze to her. Catching Jeremy's eyes with her own, she slowly unfastened the top button on her blouse. She fingered the fabric, her fingers running up and down the exposed skin. They stopped when they encountered the next button, and she held her hand there, fingering the small disc of plastic. She wet her lips with her tongue.
“You know,” she said conversationally, “that I'm divorced.”
Jeremy nodded. She stood and walked around the desk. Her hips swayed lazily, falling into an ancient rhythm of seduction. Jeremy started to rise, but she laid a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back into his chair.
“And I'm so horny these days,” she sighed as she circled behind him, one hand trailing along the muscles of his back. Nice and strong, good. “I had to get myself off in the bathtub last night with my hands.” Part of her mind was aghast, unable to believe what she was saying. Another part reveled in it, giving in to passion. She raised her eyebrows. “It's customary,” she said, “to give a parting intern a gift. A sign of appreciation for all the hard work he or she has done.
“I had Madeline buy you a good bottle of scotch. After all, what does one get a colleague as a gift when they don't really know the person who they're buying the gift for? Quality alcohol is a nice, safe purchase.
“But I don't feel like being safe right now.” She stopped in front of him and perched on the edge of her desk. She crossed her legs, allowing her skirt to hike up. She smiled as she saw his eyes focus on the white skin of her thighs. She undid another button, allowing her blouse to fall further open, showing a slice of her lace-covered breasts. She glanced at his lap, smiling as she saw the tented cloth of his slacks, proof of his aroused state.
“Would you mind if I gave you a different sort of farewell gift, Jeremy?”
Her intern looked around the room, as if he was trying to find a hidden film crew. He wet his lips and swallowed nervously. “This is a joke, right? Or is it some sort of test? Or a trap? I tell you that I want to make love to you, and you pull the recommendation? Or is it that a*****e Chad? I told him once I thought you were attractive, and he's been making remarks for weeks about how I have a thing for you. Did he tell you?”
She smiled and nodded. “It's a test, yes.” She undid another button. The blouse now gaped wide. She swallowed through a throat gone dry with lust. “The test is whether I can make you explode in my mouth, or whether you last long enough to make love to me.”