Tease Me, Take Me [Desirables 2]
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by Sapphire Blue
Category: Erotica/Menage Erotica/Romance
Description: Genre: Paranormal Menage
Previous Book: Touch Me, Please Me
Kitaka "Kit" Valentine is a Desirable witch with the power of vision. When she receives a premonition of danger that warns "they will come in twos," she's ready to act. She had no way of knowing that the two she hunted would introduce her to the two that would be her salvation. Jack and Rad are partners and best friends whose habit of practicing menage is no secret, but Rad's feelings for Jack are -- just as Jack's longing for a committed, three-way relationship is. Meeting Kit opens up a door to more than just a magical world neither of them knew existed; it breaches the surface of the deep, dark sexual hunger that could destroy them all.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices, menage (m/m/f).
eBook Publisher: Loose Id, LLC, 2010
eBookwise Release Date: October 2010
5 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [124 KB]
Reading time: 76-107 min.
"It is not a partner that you need at this time," High Priestess Damille said in a voice that whispered on the air.
"Pardon my disrespect, but I think I know what I need." Kitaka "Kit" Valentine grew fidgety as she knelt before the shimmering silver altar.
She'd been summoned by the high priestess at sunset on a Friday night. Kit would much rather have been heading out to a club for some dancing and drinking than sitting here listening to some psychobabble about this great emotional experience she was about to embark on.
Kit didn't fall for the divine-destiny theory that cloaked each Desirable witch like a veil. She was a vision witch; she saw the future in snatches as needed. Her life was not preordained, but her wards--the innocent mortals who lived in the vector where she was assigned--were. And that was all Kit cared about. It was all she could afford to care about.
Being assigned to the Miami vector had been exciting for Kit five years ago when she had a partner, Coco, and they'd roamed the streets getting into all sorts of mischief together. But Coco had been transferred last year, and since then, Kit had been alone. Truth be told, she had been alone long before then.
The daughter of a Greek Desirable witch who met an African American marine thirty years ago, Kit was an only child. She spent her childhood years alone, learning how to use her powers from her mother. Learning how to be mortal from her father. It was a solitary lifestyle that Kit became used to. Not having the chance to bond with persons unlike her besides her father.
As a military brat Kit had hopped from one school to the next, never having any steady friends or relationships. During her first year of middle school in Germany, a country that Kit resoundingly hated for reasons she couldn't even recall today, she'd broken her first rule as a Desirable.
Donya Millady was an unrelenting bully, and during the third week of school, after she'd terrorized the majority of the seventh-grade class, including the boys, she'd turned her sights on Kit. After one day of trying to reason with Donya, Kit had lost her temper, casting a spell that she considered harmless but that resulted in Donya's hair falling out and her face being covered in warts. The high priestess had found out, as she always did, contacted Kit's mother, and reprimanded her good.
From that moment on Kit had been homeschooled. Entering adulthood Kit knew what her future held for her. She was a Desirable witch, one of the beautiful, powerful witches who had been prechosen by the high priestess to protect specific areas of the world.
As her title dictated, Kit was everything desirable, from her long, dark hair, heavily creamed coffee complexion, bark-brown-tinted eyes, and pouting mouth down to her lush curves that only added to the arousing combination even though her short stature of five feet two inches sometimes posed a problem. Kit had an insatiable sex drive, this too a trait of Desirable witches. They were known for being all-powerful, no-nonsense, and ruthless when it came to taking down phantoms, and ready for sex at a moment's notice.
Kit did not shy away from that reputation at all. In fact, she embraced it to the point that some of the things she'd been thinking of sexually had made her nervous. Kit was sure it was okay for a Desirable to be with any man she chose at any given time. That was not the problem. Her problem was the thought of submitting to not one, but two men. Desirable witches were powerful, intelligent, and independent leaders. What they were not was submissive. What they did not search for was love.
But if that were true, why did Kit continuously dream of the one man who could not only love her, but who could control her ultimate pleasure?
"What you are about to embark on is no longer only about you. Have you forgotten that I too have visions?"
Kit dragged her attention back to the most supreme of the Desirables, Damille. She was beyond the word beautiful--she was alluring and enticing. She was the mother of all Desirables. Even through Kit's rebellious spirit, she could not dismiss the respect she held for the high priestess.
"If it is a phantom you speak of, I have not yet received a vision, High Priestess."
A warm breeze circulated throughout the room, ruffling Kit's hair and warming her body.
"No, dear one. I do not speak only of phantoms this time. Just remember that they will come in twos."
There were two of them, tall, clearly past six and a half feet, both with manes of golden hair hanging between their shoulders. They moved with the precision of highly trained phantoms, their slim bodies cutting through the air with metamorphic ease. The attack was svelte and well synchronized as both phantoms moved in on the two mortals with comparable fighting skills.
Kit's vision had been choppy at best. She'd seen in twos, just as the high priestess had ordained. Two slim yet powerful phantoms with two muscular and determined mortals. Relying on her inner senses, Kit had used the smell of fear, the burning sensation of growing anger to direct her path, and materialized in what looked like an alleyway.
Tonight's theme must have been martial arts, as the four figures traded kicks and blows as if they'd been trained by masters. For endless moments Kit stood at the edge of the alley trying valiantly to shift through the conflicting emotions she felt inside.
Along the edges were the familiar painful pricks of anger and pursuit. This was the norm for her when facing phantoms. But on the inside, closer to Kit's heart and more foreign than she was willing to admit, she felt something she didn't believe was quite right. There was a familiarity in the way the mortals moved, a sense of ownership in each turn of their bodies, each predatory stance they took.
It was dark in the alley, but as a vision witch, Kit also possessed what Desirables called night-sight. She zoomed in on the bigger, darker mortal with his completely shaved head and menacing scowl. As he fought, dominance poured off him in thick, heavy waves that seemed to travel in slow rivulets directly toward Kit, wrapping around her ankles and threatening to pull her closer. His movements were fierce. That's all she could think to describe his method of fighting. They were neither planned nor sloppily executed. Each strike was meant to cause harm to whomever was unfortunate enough to be in its path. Her nipples tightened, her eyes closing to mere slithers as she continued to watch him.
Then a coolness mixed with the heat that was moving from her ankles upward. In that moment she was instantly drawn to the lighter mortal, who was built in a neat fashion and fought giving careful thought to each strike he inflicted. His hair was light, curling in thick waves at the top, tapered in short layers along the sides. From him, a breezy wind reached out to Kit, not grabbing her forcefully as the heat from the dark mortal, but caressing her along the shoulders, down her arms, until it pooled into her center, creating a volatile yet enticing, mixture with the rising heat.
With a jolt Kit's mind returned to the here and now as one of the phantoms, apparently tired of playing with the mortals, raised his right arm and aimed lightning bolts fizzling in electric blue waves in a direct line toward the lighter mortal. Dematerializing and rematerializing with the mortals to her back and the phantoms in front, Kit caught the bolts with her body, which had already been covered by a protection spell. Then she began to chant.
"Dark as night. Fight or flight. No death will be won here tonight."
The earth rumbled; the brick walls on each side of the alley began to shake. Blinding light speared downward from the sky, engulfing the five who stood in the center of the alley, taking them into a bright vortex where wind and debris spun uncontrollably. Kit stood, raising both arms above her head, welcoming the power, strength, and energy that was of her desirable nature. With a swirl of her wrists and the descent of her arms, she yelled, "As I will, so mote it be."
And just like that the light vanished, taking with it each tall, long-haired phantom in its wake.
But as she stood staring at the spot where the threat had once been, Kit knew with absolute certainty that this was not over.
* * * *
"Fuck me! What the hell was that? And who the hell are you?" Rad said, backing up until he slammed into the wall.
The woman turned to face them then and Jack heard Rad's intake of breath while he, on the other hand, handled the shock of stark beauty a little more diplomatically.
What he wasn't handling well was the violence that had been overshadowing his club lately. Opening Obsession, the trendy adult club located in downtown Miami, had been an extension to his unusually high sex drive. The entertainment provided at Obsession worked twofold--it made him a boatload of money while appeasing the myriad of sexual exploits he craved. Well, most of them, anyway.
Lately, however, Obsession had been keeping Jack up at night--or in the early morning hours after the club had closed--worrying over the strange streak of violence that seemed to be taking over. The occurrences all took place at the club. Usually after the first couple of dances, something would happen: patrons would begin arguing and subsequently fighting, employees would have funky attitudes, the ladies of the night wouldn't want to perform. Tonight hadn't been any different.
It was as if there was some sort of possession taking over his club, an evil invasion of sorts. Of course, to the local cops that would sound more than crazy. That's why Jack hadn't said as much to them. However, Jack came from a big Creole family living in the Louisiana Bayou. As a result, he was open-minded about lots of things, one of which was sex, the other, the supernatural. He would readily admit that some, if not all, occurrences happening throughout the world definitely had a magical element or were a result of somebody's ancestors cursing another. Still, he hadn't been able to put a finger on what exactly was going on at his club.
Yet, he'd known the moment this nymph of a woman appeared between them that she was different. And familiar. Just as he'd known with his first punch to the long-haired green-eyed guy that they weren't of this world either. And that no matter how hard he and Rad fought them, the twin stick men would keep coming back.
He didn't have a name for it. Didn't know exactly what type of supernatural she was, but he knew, he sensed it. He felt the magic still swirling around them, although the alley seemed to have turned back to this reality.
She opened her mouth to speak, and Jack took a step toward her. He couldn't help it. No matter how powerful he sensed she was, he couldn't stay away from her. So he was now only a foot away, and his body was humming. Yes, humming like a freaking engine on a sports car revving up for the next race.
"How did you do that?" he asked, his arm instinctively reaching out, touching a soft strand of her long, bone-straight, dark-as-sin hair.
She blinked only once before tilting her head so that it slipped like silk through his fingers. Just like in his dreams.
"Magic," she said simply, then turned to leave.
She'd taken only two steps before Jack reacted. "Stop," he bellowed and was surprised by the deep, dominating tone of his voice.
Behind him he felt Rad put a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing, man? Who is she?"
"What's your name?" Jack spoke to her back because, although she had stopped walking, she hadn't turned around to face him.
Then as if she knew the effect she was having on him, she turned, her head only, her hair swishing along her back, and gave him a decidedly sensual look. "My name's Kit, and you can thank me later for saving your ass."
Just then the back door to the club blew open. Morty and Nick, the new bouncers hired when Jack and Rad had decided to beef up their security, came barreling out.
"Are you okay, Mr. Beaumont? We couldn't get through," Morty said.
Nick was shaking his head. "Yeah, it was the weirdest freakin' thing. The door slammed right in our faces and locked so tight the both of us couldn't even budge it."
Jack held up a hand to stop them. "Don't worry about it. I think I have an idea of what happened." Again he looked down the alley toward the magical woman who had continued to walk away. With a nod of his head toward Morty and Nick, he said, "Get her. Bring her back."
Then Jack turned to Rad and said, "Let's get inside."
She didn't kick or scream. She didn't struggle to get out of the bouncers' hold, which for a moment surprised Jack. He'd seen the look in her eyes when he'd asked how she'd done what she did. There wasn't an ounce of fear or an inch of regret. She was who she was, and she was damn proud of it.
Surprisingly enough, Jack was a bit proud of her as well.
But now he needed to know exactly who she was and who those freaks outside were and if any of them had anything to do with what had been going on in his club over the last few weeks.
Jack noticed that the club had been cleared out. Everyone was gone, and it wasn't even midnight. The club's prime hours had been disturbed by the incident, and he didn't like it one bit.
"We should call the police," Rad offered.
He was nervous, Jack thought as he looked over at his partner. Rad's blue eyes, normally shimmering with excitement, had dulled a bit with the action, and sweat still lined his forehead. Looking down, Jack could see that his knuckles were bruised. He took one of Rad's hands in his, noticed similar bruising, and said, "You should go to the kitchen and get some ice for this."
Rad pulled away. "Fuck that! I'm not leaving you alone with her."
"I know what I'm doing."
"You always say that. You always think you know everything, whether it's business or personal, and I always follow. I always do what you say--"
"Hold up." Jack interrupted Rad's rant. "Is this about tonight? Or is this about something else? Maybe the phone call you had with your mother earlier today."
Rad had slipped into the booth at the club seconds after Jack had come into the napkin and zipped his pants. Even with that relief, the sharp tinge of desire still pricked at him. He was still horny as hell. He was also still more than a little worried about Rad's demeanor lately, his disappearing acts, and yes, the phone call he'd shared with his mother.
Rad was from a very influential Caucasian Seattle family who didn't agree with his close friendship with the African American football player their son had met in college. After they'd both graduated from UC Berkley and decided to not only go into business together but to live together, Rad's family had all but disowned him. His father had completely washed his hands of him; only his mother would call him periodically to see how he was doing. But at the end of each one of those phone calls, Rad was left shaken and confused. He wondered if Rad's mother had finally been able to get through to him, if Rad was finally taking her words of recrimination seriously.
If Rad had finally made the decision to leave him, Jack was damn sure going to make him man up and come straight out and tell him. There was no way he was going to allow him to blame it on anything, especially not some supernatural occurrence he had no idea was coming.
Rad's mouth closed quickly, his eyes boring into Jack's. "Now is not the time for that discussion."
"Will there be a time for it, Rad? Will we discuss it when we get home, or will I just wake up in the morning and find you gone?"
"What? Where is this coming from?" Rad demanded.
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Kit clearing her throat. "Ah, excuse me, but if you two have some personal business you need to attend to, I can leave."
Jack turned to face her but didn't speak. Behind him he heard Rad say, "You obviously know what you're doing, so I'll leave you to it."
He'd known the moment they'd left, the moment he and the supernatural woman were alone, because the room had filled with a suffocating heat. Beneath his silk shirt, his chest had begun to sweat. Again, Jack approached her, watching the play of emotions on her face.
Would she run? Would she say a little rhyme and disappear? Or would she stay? That last question had him pausing as she tilted her head, seemingly measuring him and how dangerous he could be. Then she slowly licked her lips, and his cock jutted forward.
"So, Kit, you plan on answering my other questions?"
Her mouth tilted upward in a half smile. It was eerie, this feeling he had when he was near her. Instinctively, he knew that if he'd been treated to the full-blown smile, her stark beauty would clearly have knocked him off his feet. As it was, he stood almost mesmerized, more than a little intrigued and certainly aroused by the creaminess of her skin, the long satiny hair, and the sultry look in her dark eyes. Who was she? And why did he feel like she--no, like they--were in exactly the right place, at precisely the right moment, as if it were already preordained?
"Why do you want to know?" she asked.
"I'm curious," was his reply.
"Did anybody ever warn you about curiosity?" She fisted one hand at her hip and continued to stare. "It killed the cat, you know."
Jack shrugged. It was a good look on her, this careless beauty, this effortless allure. He couldn't help but wonder just how many men she'd taken down with it.
"Or it saved the day." She hadn't moved, hadn't backed away in fear or even in defense as he moved closer. His entire body heated, growing more alert to the sexy female before him. "Now I know for a fact that those two 'men' in the alley weren't human. Just like I know as well that what you did wasn't humanly possible either. So the way I figure, you can either tell me what you are willingly, or we can both have a seat, order up some midnight snacks, and sit here while I guess."
"Don't waste your time. It's no secret. I'm a witch. I was summoned here by a vision. I saved your ass, and now I'm ready to go home. This hasn't exactly been my idea of a hot Friday night." Again she turned to leave.
But this time Jack was quicker. He had an arm around her waist, pulling her back up against him in seconds. "Well, I've never been known to let a lady down. So if it's a hot Friday evening you're looking for, I aim to please."