Giving It Up for the Gods
Read Giving It Up for the Gods Online
Authors: Kryssie Fortune
Tags: #Fantasy, #urban fantasy, #Paranormal, #greek mythology
Loose Id Titles by Kryssie Fortune
GIVING IT UP FOR THE GODS
Kryssie Fortune
www.loose-id.com
Giving It Up for the Gods
Copyright © April 2014 by Kryssie Fortune
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Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
eISBN 9781623007935
Editor: Kierstin Cherry
Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter
Published in the United States of America
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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Dedication
For Robert and Sarah.
You make me proud, son. Sarah, what can I say except you’re a brilliant addition to the family.
Chapter One
“This time tomorrow, I’ll be an ex-virgin. Guaranteed. Thanks for the heads-up about Neptune, Mum.” Lindy finished the call and tossed her cell phone in her bag.
A rhinestone cowboy, all Cuban heels and fringed shirt, stepped down from the mechanical bull. He tapped her on the shoulder and leered. “Excuse me, little lady. I’d like to volunteer my help with your virginity problem. I’m experienced, and I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
She just bet he would. Virginity problem? As if she’d let a man-whore like him touch her. And who did he think he was, calling her little lady? Yorkshire’s version of John Wayne? Next thing he’d be telling her to drink her milk…and she preferred white wine. She’d been singing at Country and Western Heaven, Yorkshire’s famous theater bar for six months now, and she knew most of the regulars by sight. Besides, Bill Smith wore more fringing than she did, so he’d be hard to miss. Bill was decent enough when he was sober, but one drink turned him into an overloud, oversexed womanizer. No way was she giving it up to him.
Lost in her thoughts, she started when the owner, Joe, touched her hand and pointed at the CCTV screens behind the bar. One camera focused on the bull riders to the left of the bar, one watched the customers enjoying a top-class dinner while they watched the show, and the third—where Joe pointed—showed the crowd seated in the auditorium. “Hottie alert, center back stalls but heading this way. One of us could get lucky tonight. I wonder if he’s gay. Now you know why men make me hot and horny, but I bet he’s not even bi.”
Lindy laughed. “So much for your fabled gaydar. You’re as much in the dark as me.”
Joe held up his hands in surrender. “Him I’d definitely like to get naked in the dark.”
Curious, she glanced at the monitor. “Okay, my pervy friend, let’s see what’s got you all hot and bothered.”
A six-foot-six sex god elbowed his way toward the bar. Women stared at his sculpted muscle and mane of surfer-blond hair. His hint of a mustache and goatee—barely thicker than stubble—lent masculinity to an otherwise too-pretty face.
He’s even blonder than Neptune. Not my type at all. And what’s with the aviator sunglasses? Inside?
With his fingerless gloves and thick-soled boots, he looked as tough as he did sexy. As a Siren, she knew plenty of surfers, but they were laid-back and friendly. The sex-god guy in the auditorium reminded her of a riptide—deadly, determined, and utterly destructive. Then she spotted his friend.
He’d pulled his long black hair back from his face and fastened it loosely at his neck. One errant lock escaped and drew attention to sensual lips. Neptune’s balls, she wanted to set it free, and maybe she’d run her fingers through it. His face was long, with high cheekbones and a touch of designer stubble. Suntanned, as tall as his surfer buddy, he walked like he owned the place.
Everything about him, from his casual hair, leather jacket, and body-hugging tee, said
I don’t give a shit
. He even tapered in at the waist like a cartoon He-Man. Her gaze lingered on his body, and she lusted after every lithe inch of him. Sculpted and toned, he was more a wild, freewheeling biker type than muscle-bound bodybuilder. Danger and darkness personified him. Shoulders back, he oozed self-confidence as he moved through the auditorium and headed toward the bar. Talk about arrogant. Talk about sexy.
When she switched the CCTV to a close-up view, she saw his eyes—gold flecked and world-weary—were dark pits that mirrored the blackness in his soul. Soot-colored eyelashes swept over his sculptured cheekbones. His mouth curved into a cynical half smile. His walk was suggestive and sensual, predatory even. His sardonic grin thrilled her, and she wondered if his lips tasted as delicious as they looked. Joe definitely nailed it when he called the hottie alert.
Bingo. She’d found her future bedmate, but every female customer lusted after him and his friend.
Move aside, hussies. Lindy’s finally in the game
. Her breasts ached, and her cunt throbbed with newly awakened desires. Her hopes of avoiding Neptune rested on a one-night stand with a tall, dark, and handsome stranger. Now he appeared like a gift from the gods. With any luck, he’d have the same commitment issues as her. By which she meant he’d fuck her and move on.
As a Siren, she kept her heartsong locked inside until she met her true-mate. It meant commitment and bonding, and she wouldn’t sing it—not even for Tall, Dark, and Deadly. Of course that wouldn’t stop her from screwing him.
Surely that’s not too much to ask, especially now my clock’s ticking.
Fifty-two hours to the solstice, and Neptune had nominated her as the star turn in his solstice celebrations.
Like hell!
No way was she letting her sisters tie her down, legs open, for that disgusting old man to screw. Of course, after he’d ceremonially fucked a virgin—preferably a Siren—he’d rejuvenate into one mouthwatering young stud. If the Sirens refused him, he’d devastate their land and their homes again. Whatever. Lindy was worth more than a leave-my-sister-Sirens-alone fuck.
Thank the stars she still had friends in Scopuli, the Siren homeland. Forewarned was forearmed and all that. Better to be battle ready or over the hill and running. Anything beat standing around and waiting for Neptune’s minions to drag her off to an altar dedicated to the ancient gods. She’d unleash her violent side—claws, fangs, underhanded techniques, and all—to stay out of the merwarriors’ clutches. And Sirens were feisty, tough females.
Joe placed her drink behind the bar for later. “You’re on in fifteen minutes, my lovely. The place is packed, and they’ve all come to hear you sing. I don’t know why you don’t go on one of them TV talent shows and make millions.”
She smiled and shook her head, but she kept her gaze glued to the CCTV screen. The regulars parted like the Red Sea and let the hotties Joe had shown her through. Women licked their lips and looked hopeful, but their faces fell when the sex god and his even tastier friend kept moving toward the bar. The braver women started toward them, but they backed off when they sensed the danger swirling around the hotties. Men stole surreptitious glances and turned away.
Dark-haired and Deadly moved like a panther, all rippling muscle, danger, and predatory grace.
Is that my mouth watering? Yeah, definitely. Now him, I’d willingly fuck
. His black jeans hung low on his hips, but they looked like they’d been spray-painted on his thighs.
Joe stood taller behind the bar and stage-whispered, “Go sing, my lovely. I’ll keep them here until after you’re done. And try to sound sexy and soulful tonight. Men like them want sultry and sinful. That pair definitely aren’t the fall-for-the-girl-next-door type.”
Lindy nodded, stunned by all that masculinity heading her way. The hotties radiated testosterone and menace. Super-sexy menace that sent shock waves of desire tingling through her pussy. Joe was right. She could definitely give it up to Tall, Dark, and Dangerous—but even for him, she wouldn’t sing from the heart.
Call her crazy, but long-term relationships sucked—then again, what could be worse than being Neptune’s ceremonial fuck? Normally Sirens wore their reputation as sluts proudly, but not her. Her friends called her picky, and they were right.
She could do a one-night stand—especially if she did it with Tall, Dark, and Do-me out there. She liked that he looked more biker than cowboy, her best fantasy walking, but the place was packed with punters, all waiting to hear her sing. Joe had become like a father to her since she lift Scopuli, and she couldn’t let him down. Besides, she suspected he needed the money. Once she’d earned her share, then, hotties notwithstanding, she’d hightail it out of here.
Most people knew about Saturnalia, the winter solstice festival celebrated in ancient Rome. Fewer had heard of its counterpart, the Neptunalia. In midsummer, when droughts threatened, humans thought to appease Neptune by building shelters over streams. It kept the precious water shaded, and the streams kept running. Thankful farmers built altars inside the shelters and made votive offerings to keep the gods sweet. Until Neptune got zapped with an aging spell, everything was fine. Then Circe, an ancient sorceress, saved him, but between the pair of them, they twisted a beautiful ceremony into perverted sex.
Thanks to the ancient enchantment, he had to screw something fresh and virginal to regain his lost youth. Worse, he demanded his virgins tied down and unwilling, spread-eagled on a solid stone altar. Always, his partner choice was a Siren.
Can we help being the sexiest preternatural race?
Lindy put thoughts of Neptune and his web-handed mermen behind her and concentrated on tonight’s performance. She’d belt out some Shania Twain, then leave town. Before the sex gods reached the bar, she smelled rotting fish and seaweed. A webbed hand landed square in the middle of her back. As cold as the scales of a dead fish. She could already feel the damp stain on her fringe-covered blouse.
“Lindy Lou Majors? Neptune’s chosen you. Come with us.”