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Mind F*cked [Faerily Imperfect Series, Book One]
by Mia Watts

Category: Paranormal Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: Sage has the ability to read minds, but only in high passion moments when thoughts transmit at a higher frequency. But the gift is double-edged. Sage is inordinately handsome. Some might even say he's a walking orgasm. So what's a half-breed to do when every person he meets seems intent on seducing him, and how will he know if the man he chooses will love him for more than his looks? Joe has never been the object of anyone's lust before. Now Sage, the hottest guy he's ever laid eyes on, has Joe starring in his sexual fantasies. It would be perfect if only Sage could shut up for one minute, and quit talking about his own hotness--or about how he can read minds. Meanwhile, Joe and Sage must secure the last three Zodiac Stones and prevent their theft while they wait for exhibition. Can they put their sexual tension aside long enough to stop a clever thief? And even if they do, will Joe's heart be a casualty of their inevitable fling, or could Sage really be looking for more than a one-night stand?
eBook Publisher: Resplendence Publishing, LLC, 2009
eBookwise Release Date: November 2009


114 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [184 KB]
Words: 38561
Reading time: 110-154 min.

Chapter One

* * * *

Stunned by erotic mental whiplash, Sage Harper jerked as though he'd actually been slammed against the white bathroom tile for a quickie.

Oh, shit. Here we go again.

Cool water scooted soap bubbles off his hands. Sage turned off the faucet and searched the mirror spanning the men's room for the culprit. Five open doors, one slightly ajar, and three unattended urinals reflected back. Images of hands clawing at Sage's shirt and his belt buckle rattling to his ankles came to him in rapid-fire succession. The suggestion of climate-controlled air tickled the hairs on his body as though he stood completely naked in someone's fantasy.

Sage grabbed a paper towel, jerkily wiped his hands and threw the wadded paper into the garbage. The prick has to be in here somewhere. Only proximity and the frequency of heightened emotion could transmit an image this realistically.

"Hello?" Sage called.

Invisible fingers tugged at his cock. The magic was strong. It bounced off the walls and magnified back at him. He closed his eyes, trying not to be distracted by the filmy layer of fantasy that washed his human vision.

The slap of hand wetly sliding on cock and accompanying grunts led him to the last stall. Sage pushed open the already ajar stall door. A young blond man with a hoodie leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, getting off to the fantasy in his head. The fantasy he projected to Sage unwittingly.

It was Sage's gift, bestowed through the trickery of faeries on the children born of a mortal and faery union. Half-breeds taunted with their partial birthright. A half-gift for a half-breed. As abilities went, it had been fun when he first hit puberty, but the appeal died within the first year.

Fucking sex-crazed lunatics inhabited the mortal world.

Without intimately knowing Sage's form, the young man's lust invented a cock and a body. Sage tipped his head, arms folded across his chest. "Well, as fantasies go, that one's interesting, but I don't have a tattoo of a cowboy riding the base of my cock."

The blond looked up sharply. His eyes widened as he saw the object of his desire before him, then rolled back in ecstasy on a loud groan. The young man pumped harder. "Suck it. Suck it."

Fantasy Sage's lips morphed into a Hoover attachment.

Sage sighed with annoyance. What kind of stupid-ass faery gave him the ability to see inside another person's mind during moments of elevated tension, and then blessed him with the physical appeal most mortals couldn't resist?

A perverted one, that's who.

"Wake the fuck up, moron. You're jacking off in a bank at midday. I know you're young, but control yourself." Sage glowered at the blond.

"Dude? You're here? Oh, God, I'm coming," the blond panted.

"I see that. But could you have some respect for yourself and not shoot your wad in public? For fuck's sake, keep your sessions in your home where I can be far enough away that I don't have to see them."

"Or me," a warm masculine voice agreed.

Sage turned abruptly to face the newcomer. Fuck. With Sage's luck, it would turn into a virtual threesome.

"Although," the man shrugged. "He's got pretty good technique for a kid barely out of high school."

Sage smiled. "We could give him tips."

Why the fuck had he just said that? He eyed the other man curiously, turning his back on the budding porn-star.

The newcomer's brows rose in amusement and humor twinkled in the depths of his moss-green eyes. A moment passed. Sage saw nothing. Nothing. Considering that since puberty, he'd never been in the presence of another person and not seen a detailed vision of some daydream or another, the difference was shocking.

The man's smile faded, dimming the light in his eyes. Sage waited for a vision that didn't happen.

"Well, have a good day," the other man said. He turned toward the wall of urinals.

The sounds of the youth behind him streaking toward orgasm brought a weary sigh to Sage's lips. He didn't bother to look back. He was more interested in the man who thought nothing of him at all.

It wasn't until Sage stood immediately behind him, while the man tucked himself away, that Sage realized he felt vaguely disappointed.

The man turned sharply. "Can I help you?"

"You don't want to fuck me?" Sage asked incredulously. The words hit the air and Sage grimaced. "That didn't come out like I expected."

"Really?" he drawled. He yanked his zipper with a harsh rasp and leveled Sage with a deadpan look of mild-irritation. "You mean that's why I'm standing at a urinal pissing? I secretly wanted some stranger to come along and take it as a hint? Gee, and all these years I've been dangling my cock over the wrong receptacle."

He brushed past Sage for the washbasins, shooting him a mirrored warning to stay back.

Sage had an appointment anyway. He shook off the feeling of absolute stillness projecting from the other man and exited the men's room.

Ten fifty-six. Sage had four minutes to reach Mr. Glassman's office. He crossed the wide expanse of marble floor to the teller. Her eyes clouded as Sage fended off another round of projected lust. She slipped him her telephone number in between rushed breaths, and pointed toward the security protocol office.

This was why he worked nights. Alone. And broke into empty buildings with nothing more erotic than his tool case and small arsenal of technology. Normally, his youngest sister, Willow, managed the daytime appointments. Today she had insisted there was something to address in the faery world.

Sage squared his shoulders and strolled to the back wall of mirrors. The clever decoration served several purposes. Not only did it have the darker sheen of one-way reflection, but it also housed the security protocol department. In a bank, with the open floor plan this one had, the promise of being viewed was psychologically reinforced as well.

Decoration, practicality and psychological impact. He could appreciate the economy in the interior design. Someone in security had his or her thinking cap on. Good. It meant Sage had a smaller likelihood of dealing with security morons.

He tapped the inset door and heard the muffled buzz of an electrical release. Pushing the panel, it swung inward to an area running the length of the main floor. It should have felt claustrophobic with industrial grade gray carpet and too-bright fluorescent lighting, but it didn't.

Quality grade one-way separated them from the business area, making the long, narrow room feel as though it opened to the rest of the bank. Cameras faced the window like regular electronic eyes, keeping careful watch on the customers only feet away.

A dark haired cutie blinked widely at him. He caught a flash of pink ballerina slippers, bared ass, sweat-matted hair and a tinny, panting echo of her internal rutting montage before he stepped back from her counter to lessen the effect of his curse on the woman.

She licked her lips. "Mr. Harper, Mr. Glassman is expecting you in observation room one." She pointed a slim, trembling finger toward a door on his far right.

"Thank you," he said, striding abruptly toward the back corner.

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