Pairing: m/f; m/m; m/m/f; f/f; m/m/m/f

Available in ebook  from Loose Id

Available in ebook from ARe

Available for Kindle from Amazon

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

So here it is, the last book of the main arc started in Dark Elves I: Taken. The children conceived in the first three books are now grown and ready to cause trouble. As a quick primer, Brevin is Salin and Diana’s son, Lanthan is Krael and Suza’s son, Tykir is Hyle and Gala’s son, and Eryhaen is Savous and Irin’s daughter. Not to mention there’s this guy… from book three… who showed up in book five… yeah, we’re dealing with him too.

BLURB:

As the first girl child born to the dark elves, Eryhaen is rhaejena—princess—and desired by all of the men around her. Born with magical gifts that challenge even the most experienced sorcerers among her people, she has the awe of her people and the devotion of her three best friends and lovers. Brevin, Lanthan and Tykir have been at her side their whole lives and each of the three young men would do anything for her and each other.

But Eryhaen needs more than untutored if eager lovers. She is out of control, and she knows it. Her magic is raw and wild, and she is not the only one who’s started to see her as a danger.

She needs help.

The only possibility is Radin, a legendary sorcerer, returned from the dead but magically unconscious for a quarter of a century. Dreams and undeniable instincts tell her that he’s the solution to her problems, if she can only wake him up.

Once she does, what then? He may be the answer to her problems, but is the legendary lover the man for her? Or is he meant for someone else?

****************************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Brevin’s left arm flew up, the long, slim dagger in reverse grip along his forearm to deflect Lanthan’s blade. As Lanthan began to twist away, Brevin brought up a fist, aiming for his gut. Lanthan was better than that, having spun into Brevin, catching him off guard enough so that when the smaller man’s ass rammed into his hips, he stumbled enough for Lanthan to grip his left arm and flip him head over heels. He ended flat on his back in the sand, stunned for those few precious seconds it took for Lanthan to drop to his knees and straddle Brevin’s chest, his blade at Brevin’s throat.

Lanthan’s grin was barely sane underneath the long fall of fringe that spilled over the wide band tied about his skull. “Got ya.”

Brevin snarled, fingers digging into the sand. But Lanthan’s knees pinned Brevin’s arms to the ground.

“Only because it’s left-handed.”

“No excuse,” said a deep voice overhead. “A skilled warrior fights equally well with both hands.”

Brevin closed his eyes. Lanthan’s father, Krael, was a cruel taskmaster, even in training. Especially in training. He wouldn’t accept any less than Brevin’s or Lanthan’s best even if they had just come back from battle. He wouldn’t let them have fun and just blow off steam as Brevin had hoped to do. Can’t he pay attention to the others? There were plenty of other trainees in the practice grounds for Krael to torture.

Lanthan laughed, easing up on Brevin’s throat. “Try again?”

Brevin had wondered if it was a good idea to spar so soon after their return, but after they’d left Tykir with the healers, he and Lanthan had been much too keyed up to stay in the dining hall or go to the pools. Tykir would be all right, but neither of them had truly believed it until the healer had said it himself.

“Yes.” Brevin snatched his right arm up from under Lanthan’s left knee and swung it in a roundhouse toward his friend’s head. As he’d fully expected, Lanthan shied right and back so the punch missed. Weapons dropped in the sand, they tussled, the two of them grappling until Brevin’s greater bulk won out and he had Lanthan pinned underneath him. Lanthan could barely catch his breath for laughing, his cheek pressed to the sand with one arm trapped underneath him and the other held between them by Brevin. Glistening black skin stretched over the taut muscles as Lanthan struggled underneath his weight. Brevin breathed over the closely shorn hair on his friend’s neck.

Then Lanthan stopped laughing. His ice blue eyes hooded. Clearly, he felt Brevin’s cock in the crack of his ass, rock hard. Only the dual layers of their clothing kept Brevin from pushing in immediately. Lanthan smelled divine. No. That wasn’t right. Lanthan didn’t smell like that, a scent of earth and sweet and sex. Not even fighting with his friend could get Brevin that instantly hard.

But there was one person who smelled like that, and one person who could get him instantly hard.

Lanthan blinked, his eyes shifting so he could look up at Brevin. The same thought occurred to him. And not just them. All around the practice arena, sounds of fighting stopped.

Barely rising from Lanthan, Brevin tilted his head and swiveled toward the entrance. There she was, alone and achingly stunning in one of those long, teasing shifts she preferred. Teasing because, although it was ankle-length, it was completely open at each side, held to her body only by the silk rope tied at her waist. When she walked, hungry eyes could catch tantalizing glimpses of the spare panties she wore to guard her sex. Eyrhaen. Her thigh-length hair was loose, much of it draping her slim shoulders as she calmly surveyed the cavern full of men. The men, young and older, barely moved, watching her, as aware of her heightened arousal as though she had announced it.

Then she found them, Brevin and Lanthan, and she smiled. Brevin couldn’t contain a shiver as she stepped onto the sand and began walking toward them.

Just before he shifted his weight off his friend, he glanced down at Lanthan. Ice blue eyes were closed, and white fringe almost hid his resigned look. Brevin could feel the sexual heat shimmering off him and knew that his own need was building to match it.

She had that effect on them. She had that effect on all of them.

He’d just gained his knees when two other youths raced toward Eyrhaen from behind. Brevin would have shot up to her defense, but Lanthan’s quick grip on his arm intercepted instinct and kept him on his knees. With one brief, curt nod, he showed Lanthan he was in control again, and they both remained where they were to watch.

Despite his instincts, he knew she didn’t need his help.

The boys were younger, maybe one hundred forty or fifty cycles at the most. They’d probably just come into sexual awareness. It was the only excuse for their behavior. Older males had learned their lesson with Eyrhaen. It was time for these to learn theirs.

They fell to their knees in front of her, stopping her progress. Desperate energy radiated from them, vibrating in the dry heat of the arena and spilling off the fresh bare skin of their shoulders and torsos.

“Rhajena,” one breathed, reaching for the thigh that was exposed by the nonexistent side of her shift.

The other just whimpered helplessly, hands up toward her, imploring.

She stopped, staring down at them. She could not have looked at a bug with any less interest. When the one touched her leg, she slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

He gasped, and Brevin managed not to wince in sympathy. He knew that slap. Knew that she put something extra behind it. Her touch could be bliss or torture or an agonizing combination of the two.

“Please.” The other one found his voice. Brevin knew that strangled tone too. He’d used it on a number of occasions, although he liked to think he’d never looked this pathetic in front of her. Few things would make a raedjour warrior beg, and the last few cycles had taught them that Eyrhaen was one.

“Go back to your lessons,” she chided, “both of you.” Like they were boys and not youths perhaps only thirty cycles younger than she. She stepped around them and resumed her path toward Brevin and Lanthan. At least she smiled as she approached, although he’d come to dread the smile almost as much as the frown. Her arousal beat at him, and he could only wonder what had gotten her to such a state. Her effect was far more pronounced than normal, the pleasure of it caressing him in hidden places she had yet to touch. What does she do when we’re not around? No, he’d rather not think about that.

She stopped a pace in front of them, fine sand sifting in between the toes on her pretty feet. She reached out to card her fingers through Brevin’s short locks. “I’m glad you’re back. I need you.”

Brevin closed his eyes. It was that simple. No matter what he was doing, if she spoke those words to him, he would follow her.

“Lanthan.”

He opened his eyes to see her other hand caressing Lanthan’s cheek. Excitement buzzed below his heart. Time with Eyrhaen was special, but sharing her with his friend was exquisite.

Without speaking, both he and Lanthan gathered their knives and rose to their feet. By that time, she’d turned and started out of the arena. They followed like cubs after a mother bear. Brevin felt the envious stares, but they didn’t bother him. He was one of the lucky ones, or so they thought. He and Lanthan — and Tykir — were lucky enough to be around her age, just enough older that they’d been close friends with her before her sexual needs had started to blossom. Very few of those whom she didn’t bless with her attentions understood that the luck had an evil twist.

Krael patted his shoulder as they passed, but said nothing more. He knew. He understood. As a truemated male, he didn’t feel her pull as strongly. He wasn’t immune, and as Lanthan’s father, he knew what they were to her.

She led them down a short corridor to the bathing pools. No surprise. She liked hot water. She liked being wet and clean and preferred it for her lovers. Lovers. That’s what she called them. Not for the first time he toyed with the idea of arguing with her about the meaning of that word.

“Where’s Tykir?”

Brevin and Lanthan flanked her as they walked, staring down the stray males who showed interest in delaying them. “We took him to the healers.”

She grabbed his arm, distracting him. “Is he all right?”

“He will be,” Lanthan answered, carrying the sheathed knives that were usually strapped to his forearms. He’d be taking them off again soon anyway. “They put him under so he could sleep.”

“How did he get hurt?”

“Rogues.” Both he and Lanthan spoke together, the same note of disdain in their voices.

Eyrhaen said no more on the subject.

There was a hot pool in a relatively secluded corner of the main cavern she preferred. Brevin wondered if anyone else ever used it without her presence anymore. He doubted it. The serving boys kept a fresh pile of drying cloths and vials of her favorite oils and scents on the natural stone bench that had been carved into the rock wall beside the pool.

Brevin dropped to one knee beside the small brazier to stir up the banked flame kept there. It wasn’t a bright light and didn’t provide much warmth, but they didn’t really need either. She liked to be warm, though, and she claimed to like the dim firelight. Her wishes were the rule.

Beside him, she had untied her silk belt, and Lanthan was helping her to lift the flimsy shift up and off her head. Brevin’s eyes took in the slim, lovely curves of her hips and buttocks. She shifted her stance, turned toward him just right that he could get a glimpse between her firm thighs at the rich, juicy red folds of her sex. A pang of need twisted painfully in his gut at the sight, the scent of it wafting into his nostrils to make him dizzy. He caught himself leaning toward her, mouth watering. Goddess!

When she was free of the shift, she leaned back into Lanthan. He froze, shift still in one fist, his other hand automatically sliding around her slim waist to pull her flush against him. Shorter than Brevin, Lanthan was just a little taller than Eyrhaen, allowing a snug fit when they stood close. Her eyes shut in bliss. The shift slithered out of his grip as she snuggled into the curve of his body. Lanthan bent his head, his short hair tickling the point of her ear. Nibbling at her throat, Lanthan brought his palms up to cup her breasts, squeezing them just the way they knew she liked. She moaned a reward for him.

Brevin shook himself, shifting to sit on his butt so he could pull off his boots. He knew his role in this wasn’t just voyeur. Things worked best if he anticipated. Boots off, he shuffled out of his trousers, careful with the painfully tight, hard cock that sprang free to slap his belly. He discarded the idea of tugging it. Wouldn’t give him much relief. She wouldn’t allow him to come yet anyway.

Once naked, he eased into the burbling heat of the pool. A quick dunk underwater wet his skin and let him slick his unruly hair back from his face. Minerals and natural bubbles caressed him as the water further warmed his blood.

Lights from the more public pools behind them limned Eyrhaen and Lanthan in soft white, the long locks of her hair draped across her breasts and shoulders. She had twisted her neck so she could capture Lanthan’s mouth with her own. Their black tongues played between open lips, white teeth flashing in the shadows. One of Lanthan’s hands still massaged one breast, pinching the nipple, but his other hand had slid down, fingers now cupping into her sex.

Humming happily, she pulled her lips from Lanthan and glanced down to check on Brevin. Seeing him in the water, she grinned and merrily turned out of Lanthan’s embrace. Lanthan’s fingers slid from her as she let herself fall backward toward the water.

Brevin caught her, his heartbeat speeding up when he had her delectably naked body in the cradle of his arms. Her long hair trailed like moonlight across the surface of the water as she wound her arms around his neck.

“Kiss me,” she demanded, and he obeyed instantly. Her lips opened under his, and a moan oozed from his throat into hers. She tasted of cool silver, earth, and sweet, savory sauce over fresh meat cooked just so it melted in his mouth. He released her legs so his arm was free to wrap around her back, pinning her to him. Arms fastened around his neck, she pulled her legs up to wind them around his hips. His cock throbbed between them, pressing her belly, and he slid both hands down to palm her ass, the better to press her even closer.

Lanthan was there, behind her. His scent mingled with hers, driving Brevin to suck more deeply at Eyrhaen’s mouth. His hands slid over Brevin’s, encouraging him to spread the cheeks of her ass farther apart. Brevin did and shared what he knew would be a frustration for his friend. Lanthan would want to drive home, slide his cock into either opening exposed by the spread, but he couldn’t. If he so much as tried, the magic that was Eyrhaen would shrivel his erection painfully, so much so that he would not be able to get it up again for at least a moon.

Instead, Lanthan braced his hands beside Brevin’s and knelt in the water. Brevin raised her higher at Lanthan’s nudge, then swallowed her squeal of delight when Lanthan must have started to lick her. It was a good thing she didn’t weigh much — to Brevin, at least — because if she did, he wouldn’t have been able to hold her. It was hard enough to do when his wicked friend, while laving at Eyrhaen’s anus and sex, reached between Brevin’s legs to fondle his balls.

Good thing for him when Eyrhaen ripped her mouth from his and declared, “Enough. Put me down.”

*****************

Click here for the site’s main page for Dark Elves VI: Awakening

Pairing: m/m/f

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

A woman in Heaven Sent?! Well, yeah, she’s been with them the entire time. Gretchen deserves her HEA!

BLURB:

For years, Gretchen’s main objective has been taking care of the boys of Heaven Sent. When her boys decide to take a hiatus, she decides to do the same.

Before she can begin her summer off, Gretchen has one last public commitment. There, she meets tall, mysterious, and wickedly handsome Archer Thanos. Archer’s company has a video game based on Heaven Sent and he’s has been trying to get in touch with her to discuss it. Their first meeting quickly turns into a discussion of another type … in a nearby hotel room, sending Gretchen headlong into a whirlwind affair she hadn’t anticipated.

Only, someone isn’t exactly thrilled about Gretchen and Archer’s romance. Gretchen’s adorable new assistant, Owen, has been pining for his boss since he started working for her but he hasn’t had the courage to assert himself and tell her he wants her. As a result, Gretchen is completely blind to his feelings for her. And after meeting Archer, Owen knows he has no chance against the handsome devil. His own attraction to the older man is instant and overwhelming, the bisexual urges he hasn’t divulged to Gretchen fully awakening.

Owen thinks he’s not enough for Gretchen. Gretchen thinks Owen is far too young for her. Archer thinks they’re both ridiculous. He knows the three of them are just right for each other, if they can survive the revelations.

*****************************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“Palm Springs?”

Owen stared at his monitor. “Yeah.”

Jane sighed and perched on the far edge of his desk. “And she just met him this last week?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. What a life.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh God, would you stop mooning already?”

Scowling, he checked that the office door was closed. “Be a little louder, why don’t you?”

She reached up to smooth a hand over her short, straight black hair. “Oh, no one’s going to hear. Just about everyone’s gone home.”

He turned back to his monitor and tried to ignore her.

He’d known it wouldn’t work. She sat up further on his desk, leaning toward him. “Owen, you know you don’t have a chance with her, right?”

At times like this, he deeply regretted confiding in Jane. But they’d become good friends in the past few months, and he’d needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood. All his other friends were back in Atlanta, and they were too far removed from the business to get it. The only other person was his cousin Ellen. She was way too close to Gretchen for him to tell her anything.

When he didn’t answer her, Jane shook his shoulder.

“Hey.” He scowled up at her.

Her blue eyes narrowed. “She spends most of her time with rockstars, Owen. Gorgeous ones. She eats up handsome, successful men for lunch. She’s got guys like this Archer taking her away on expensive weekends. What could you possibly offer her other than your boyish charm?”

He gave her a mocking sweet smile. “Gee, thanks.”

She smoothed a hand over his hair. “I’m just trying to help you, honey. Mooning over the boss lady is just going to keep you distracted when a girl you can have and should be with comes along.”

He snatched his head away. Women were always petting him, he was used to it, but that didn’t stop it from being annoying when he was peeved. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s talk about this Saturday.” She clapped her hands like a giddy schoolgirl. “I’ll have to go out shopping for a new dress. You want to come with?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just what I want to do.”

She grimaced. “You know, darling, I have to say that you’re the strangest gay man I’ve ever met.”

That demanded that he give her the look. “I think you’d have to call me bisexual. I like girls too, remember.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s not so outlandish since you work for Heaven Sent after all. Well, once removed.”

Was she trying to depress him more? “Don’t you have a job to do?”

She batted her heavily mascaraed eyes at him, undeterred. “Bored with my company already?”

“Just the topic of conversation.”

“Fine.” She jumped off his desk and patted the folders she’d left in his inbox. “Make sure she sees those. There’s a new director whose work she should look at.”

“Will do.”

“See you later. We’ll make shopping plans.” Giggling at his scowl, she opened the door and left.

Once the door had clicked shut after her, he gave up the pretense of working. Staring morosely at his desk blotter, he began his favorite task since Monday: trying to figure out a way to make Gretchen not go away with this Archer creep for the weekend. So far, no dice. He wasn’t going to do anything drastic, and no one from Heaven Sent had jumped in to demand her attention. The closest was when Chris Faith called for her, but he’d ended up calling her cell and getting his answer. Meantime, he’d had to hear about all her preparations for the trip. He’d even made calls to reserve a private table at a very chic restaurant for her and Archer.

Depressed, he tried to make himself see things a different way. This was a new thing. She hadn’t dated in a long time. She’d barely talked about Archer as more than a sex toy. Maybe that’s all it was. Sex. Still not something Owen wanted to dwell on, but if it was just sex, that meant it would likely blow over soon. He’d heard about her so-called relationships in the past. Nothing that lasted very long. Her career always got in the way. Maybe all Owen had to do was tough it out for a month or so; then she’d get sick of this guy and move on. Yeah, that was a better slant on it.

But it didn’t change the fact that she was going away to get fucked, repeatedly, by this Archer guy.

What did this bozo look like anyway? Owen turned toward his computer and brought up a Web browser. He’d just typed the man’s name in the image browser when a knock sounded. He had enough time to switch windows so that his e-mail was in front before he turned to greet the newcomer.

Whoa. The guy who walked in was movie-star gorgeous. The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. His golden brown skin set off jet-black hair and matching brows that matched a classy, trimmed Vandyke beard. He wore a casual burgundy shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of chest hair and black slacks over endless legs.

Owen wasn’t sure his own legs would support him if he stood, so he just turned toward the vision. “Hello. May I help you?”

“This is Gretchen Hobbes’s office?”

“Yes. I’m Owen, Ms. Hobbes’s assistant.”

The man stopped in front of his desk and held out his hand. “Owen. Nice to meet you. My name is Archer Thanos.”

Owen’s hand was folded in a warm grip before the name was spoken. He was unable to hide his jump of surprise. “A-archer Thanos?”

“That’s me.”

“I, uh, Gretchen’s told me about you. She said you…” He dropped his gaze to the package in the man’s hand, only to realize that his own hand was still held. He blinked, confused and entranced by the sight of his light tan in contrast to the deep gold-brown of this man’s skin. Yum. He tugged his fingers away so he could reach for the package. The angle made sure that he could check out the man’s other package, a slight bulge in the loose slacks. Yum. “She said you’d be dropping something off.”

Archer held the thick envelope up, just out of Owen’s reach. “Yes. This. It’s a prospectus for a video game.” That smile was just killer. Teeth blinding white in all that darkness. “You play?”

“Huh?”

“Do you game?”

“I’ve, uh, some, but I’m not… Well, that is. Not much.”

The gorgeous man twisted to the side so he could hitch his ass up on the edge of Owen’s desk. He leaned companionably toward Owen as he set the envelope down on the desk blotter. “If you’re interested, I’d be happy to send you some samples.” Hands now free, he dipped two fingers into his chest pocket to extract a slim metal business-card case. A gold ring flashed on his finger as he flipped the case open and extracted a card.

Not until the card was hovering before him, held by two longer fingers, did Owen realize he’d just been watching the man move. Instinctively, he reached for the card. “Oh, I… There’s no reason to give me games. I mean, I wouldn’t be making a decision about this.” Jeez, Owen, get a grip! He’d handled plenty of other people with far more class than this. Why did this man have him rattled? Because this guy’s been inside Gretchen. Strangely, with said man sitting before him, the thought turned him on far more than it pissed him off.

“Oh no, my pleasure. No strings attached. Gretchen made that one perfectly clear this past weekend.”

Owen swallowed, dropping his gaze as he took exaggerated care in setting the man’s card down on top of the folder that was already there. “And you’ll be seeing her this weekend as well.” He heard the words before he could take them back.

“She told you about that, did she?”

“She tells me everything.”

When there was too much silence, he braved a glance up. Another speculative look pointed at him. He seemed to be getting a heck of a lot of those lately. This one, however, made his guts quiver into jelly. “As well she should.”

Owen stared into deep brown eyes, getting lost in the silent heat. He didn’t know what to say, and the man didn’t seem in a hurry to leave or break the silence. Finally, Owen cracked. “Actually, Mr. Thanos…”

“Please. Call me Archer.”

Owen nodded as he turned toward his monitor. “Archer. Gretchen wasn’t sure where you’d be going this weekend. Could you give me a location, just in case?”

The man amiably supplied not only the name of the resort, he pulled out his iPhone and forwarded the reservation information to Owen right on the spot. “Will you need anything else?”

Owen shook his head, trying to make his fingers stop trembling. “No. I think that’s more than enough. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

He needed to be polite. Garnering his courage, Owen turned back and spread his hand over the folder on the desk. “I’ll make sure she gets that.”

“Thank you. Please call if you need any more information. And I mean it about the games. Take a look at our Web site. Any games you want, they’re yours for the asking.” He leaned forward on the desk, fingers steepled to support his weight. “You call me personally.”

Owen stared at his fingers, far too frightened of what might happen if he got lost in that smoldering gaze again. He might just have to throw himself at the man. “Thank you.”

“Well, then. I’ll see you later. Owen.”

Owen nodded and smiled, managing to raise his gaze to the man’s collarbone. It was high enough for him to see the smirk. No shit, you’re acting like a simpering schmuck. But it was the best he could manage.

Once Archer left, Owen just sat there, staring at the door, relearning how to breathe. The man was…ungh. No wonder Gretchen was so taken. Owen was afraid he was going to have to make use of the private bathroom in Gretchen’s office unless he could get control of the hard-on in his pants. He sat back and kept breathing until he brought his heart and groin under control enough to reach over to his keyboard to bring up the image search that he’d started before the man himself had come through the door.

“There’s no way,” he whispered, gazing at a smiling photograph of the man. “There’s no way you’ve got a chance in hell against this guy.”

*********************

Click here for the site’s main page on Heaven Sent: Revelations

Buy it now at Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.net/detail.aspx?ID=698

Available in ebook at Loose id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

This one’s mainly about Jarak. Remember him? Salin’s squire from book one?

BLURB:

Her brother Geriman killed her husband, so now the two of them are on the run. Out of options, they take their chances on a trip through the Dark Forest, but they’re captured by the “dark denizens” that they’d been warned about. These beautifully cruel elves take them into the darkness and use them for selfish, sexual pleasure.

No human has been born who can withstand the full force of raedjour sexual pleasures for long. Jarak and his men are dispatched to rescue Marisol and her brother, but they come too late. They save them from death, but now there is a quandary.

What to do with the traumatized humans? Life among the raedjour is in upheaval and traditions of the last four thousand cycles of seasons may not apply. And Jarak’s and Marisol’s attraction only complicates matter.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be pleasured nearly to death?

********************************

©2007 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Intoxicating warmth stole over her body. Dark and featureless, it crept through her muscles, creating an odd, languid restlessness. She stirred, pushing off the light blanket that covered her. The fabric of her dress irritated her sensitive skin, especially her breasts. Her thighs pressed together over a warmth that pulsed through her groin. She opened her mouth to pull in more air when breathing through her nose wasn’t enough. Her back twisted, arched a little. She moaned softly, yearning, wanting…

Her eyes opened, tossing her from sleep.

Above her, shining white moonlight surrounded pitch-black darkness and glittering black eyes.

Eyes?!

Gasping, she shrank back, her confused brain trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

White. White hair, straight and glimmering like spun moonlight. Black. Black skin, glossy and shining where the sparse light caressed it. A face, long and thin and all of the same unrelieved, glossy black except for the whites of two glittering eyes and white eyebrows and eyelashes to match the straight hair.

“Hello, lovely,” said one of the most deliciously dark voices Marisol had ever heard.

Dark denizens of the forest…

She opened her mouth to scream, but a large hand clapped over her mouth. The back of her skull pressed against the rolled blanket beneath her head. She could now feel the press of legs about her hips as this strange man pinned her to the bed of the wagon where she slept.

“None of that,” chided the voice, the mouth it came from curving into a wicked smile that showed white teeth.

How had he gotten into the wagon without waking her? What was he? She struggled, making a claw with her finger and raking it toward his face. He caught her wrist with his free hand and squeezed with a firm, unbreakable grip.

He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head at her. “Now, now. Hurting you is not our intention. Don’t give us a reason.”

Us? Geriman! She screamed her brother’s name behind the hand on her mouth.

A sound to the right, and her assailant raised his head, turning toward it. It was then that she saw one ear that held back his hair. It was delicately pointed at the tip. An elf? But the legends told of elves with milky pale skin, not blackest black. And weren’t all elves from the eastern countries? What was he doing here far to the west?

The noise to the right sounded like a voice, and she rolled her eyes to see another man, equally dark-skinned, at the side of the wagon. They spoke in a language she didn’t understand, the sound of which seemed to seep into her bones, making her want to relax beneath the man straddling her.

They spoke for a moment, then ended their conversation. The one at the side of the wagon glanced down at her. He grinned and waggled his thick white eyebrows, then hopped back and out of sight.

She screamed Geriman’s name again behind the hand on her mouth. What had they done to her brother?

“Relax, lovely,” crooned the man above her, his attention back on her. “Your man’s still alive. For now.” He leaned in until his breath was a warm gust on her cheek. “Is he your husband?”

A quiver of delight spilled down her neck despite her panic. “My brother,” she gasped when the hand slid away, the edge of his palm hovering over her chin. “Don’t hurt him! Where is he? What do you want?”

The dark look in his eyes made the answer to her last question abundantly clear. What she didn’t understand was her body’s reaction. Instead of fear or rage chilling her blood, something deep in her belly boiled, making her squirm for an entirely different reason.

The man slid his fingers along her jaw. The scent of him filled her like the mellow burn from a warm, exotic wine, and she fought to keep her eyes from fluttering closed in pure, hedonistic pleasure. “He’ll be fine if he cooperates,” assured that darkly beguiling voice. A lock of shimmering white hair escaped its place behind his ear and fell forward to caress her temple. “The same holds for you.”

“Wait…” She tried to turn her face aside from the lips closing in on hers. She pushed up against his chest, finding it bare and warm, satiny between the supple lapels of the leather vest he wore.

His fingers gripped her chin, turning her back.

She gasped into the kiss.

Spicy sweet heat poured into her at the first taste of the tongue that pushed through her lips, as richly decadent as the smell of him. He explored the contours of her mouth, languidly chasing her tongue with his.

“Stop,” she breathed when he pulled back.

He smiled, hovering over her. His hands went to the ones she had clutching his soft leather vest. When had she done that? “Only for now, lovely,” he assured her, prying her fingers from his garment. Chuckling, he sat back and quickly looked around. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he gripped her wrist, hauling her to a seated position as he stood.

“Wait!” she cried, trying to stop herself from admiring the toned male muscles under glossy black skin.

He pulled her up to her feet, cinching an arm about her waist. He called out over her shoulder in that other language. The wagon swayed, and he balanced them both effortlessly.

She twisted her head, desperate to catch a glimpse of what they’d done to Geriman.

He stood between two more of the elves. The one behind him had his hands pinned at the small of his back. The other pressed against him from the front, a hand gripping his jaw to force him to look up. Geriman looked so very small in between the tall, rangy elves. Each of them was dressed similarly to the one who held her. Each of them had hair in shades of white. If she hadn’t known better, she would swear there was sexual promise in the way they pressed him between them.

“Ger!” she cried.

He started, and she saw his eyes cast toward her. “Sol!”

The one standing in front of Geriman glanced at her, smiling darkly.

She gasped when the one who held her lifted her easily and threw her over his shoulder. “Let me down!” she demanded as her world spun.

She didn’t expect him to listen. She clutched his strong body instinctively when he turned and hopped down from the wagon’s bed, carrying her as easily as a sack of grain.

“Leave her alone!” she heard Geriman demand.

“Calm down, little man,” soothed a voice from that direction. A voice as richly decadent as that of the man who carried her. “We don’t intend to hurt either one of you.” His laugh was not at all comforting, even if it did make things low in Marisol’s belly tingle. “Quite the contrary.”

“Do what you want to me. Just let Marisol alone.”

“How noble, little man. You’re getting me excited.”

She twisted, bracing her hands on the back of the man carrying her as she tried to see what was happening to her brother. Ger was struggling, but the two elves held him easily, laughing at his efforts. She now saw Ger’s sword and dagger lying useless on the rocky dirt of the road. The sheaths for both blades dangled uselessly from his belt.

Their mare was nowhere in sight, her tackle lying useless on the ground underneath the hitch.

A hand caressing Marisol’s buttocks through her dress brought her back to her own plight. “Marisol,” murmured her captor, squeezing her familiarly. “What a pretty name.”

She pounded his back since he had a good grip on her legs. “Let me down!”

Laughing, he swatted her backside hard. “All in good time.” He turned and started to walk into the trees.

“No!” She reached a hand toward Geriman. “Ger!”

He struggled fruitlessly. “Sol!”

Her captor swung around, carelessly walking backward for a few steps as he called back to his companions in that other language. With wide, frightened eyes she watched the dense foliage approach and yelped in fright.

The yelp eased into a whimper as he turned back around just before stepping off the path.

“Don’t worry, lovely. I won’t let you fall.”

She swallowed, watching as the man in front of Geriman stepped back. Ger tried to kick him but got a cuff across the face for his efforts.

“Ger, no!”

Her last view of him was of the man behind him hauling him back by his trapped hands.

********************************

Click here for the main Dark Elves IV: Dissent page

Click here for this site’s main page on Spiritual Noelle.

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

The army called the Grand Dame of the Northeast US for help with a spirit witch whose powers had grown out of control. She sent in the best spirit witch she knew, her daughter Noelle. For the past three months, Noelle has worked with Daniel and they made great progress. But then Noelle went and fell in love with him. Which would be bad enough, but she also fell in love with his leashed shifter, Jake.

Daniel is a pretty man, there’s just no getting around it. Jake is a bear of a man, and Daniel’s leashed shapeshifter, bound to protect him at the cost of their lives. To Noelle, they are the most handsome, most wonderful men on the face of the earth and she wants both of them.

Now Noelle has set herself a Christmas task. Build a relationship with Daniel and Jake, but first she’ll have to convince Daniel there’s something between them and get him over the notion there’s nothing more between him and Jake than friendship first.

If her sister Meg can have two men, why can’t she?

*************************

©2006 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

No sooner had I settled my butt on the rug than Daniel leaned forward to grab my arms and shake me.

“Don’t sleep with him!”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

He knelt before me, eyes narrowed. “I’ve watched you. I figured it out. You came back to sleep with Jake!”

“No, I didn’t …” Not entirely.

“You’re attracted to him. I can understand that. It’s just …” He closed his eyes, swallowed, a look of pure anguish passing over his exquisite features. His fingers squeezed my arms, and I’m not sure he knew he hurt me. “Just don’t. Please. Not now. Not …” He shook his head.

I leaned into his grip, staring intently into his face. “Daniel.” When he didn’t open his eyes, I bent my elbows to grab his forearms and shook him slightly. “Daniel.”

Sharp brown eyes opened to me.

“Tell me why.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Why don’t you want me to sleep with him?”

He released me and sat back on his heels, but I pushed forward to kneel, keeping my grip on his arms.

“Tell me why, Daniel.”

He tried to act cool, brushing my hands off. His eyes darted away from mine. “Because I don’t want to be around the two of you acting all lovey dovey.”

I ducked my chin and tilted my head, trying to reestablish eye contact. “No, there’s more to it than that.”

“No.”

“Yes. I told you, you’ve got to be open with me if I’m going to help you.”

He scowled. “This has nothing to do with the spirits.”

“This has everything to do with the spirits. It has to do with your peace of mind.”

He frowned, blinked, stared at me. He wanted to deny it; I saw it in his face. But he couldn’t. “I am being honest. I’m asking you not to … I …” His voice got steadily softer as he went on until the last was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to see you with him. I couldn’t handle it. Not … now.”

“Why? Because you want to sleep with me?” I paused just a second, wondering if the next sentence was wise. Instinct told me I had to. “Or because you want to sleep with him?”

Anger flared, coloring his alabaster cheeks. He reared up on his knees, grabbing my arms to yank me nose to nose with him. “I’m not gay!”

“Are you sure?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I was committed now. “I’ve seen you around Jake. You guys are so close –”

“We’re close, so that means we’re gay?!”

“Daniel, that’s not all there is. The way you two …”

His nostrils flared. His eyes went wide, then narrowed. Quick as a viper, he hauled me up to his chest and forced his lips on mine.

I’d known this was a possible reaction. I’d be a hypocrite to say that a part of me didn’t want it. The few touches I’d been allowed on that beautiful body hadn’t done anything to lessen my desire to rub against him like a cat in heat. I probably should have backed away and forced him to talk to me, but oh, even if his kiss did mash my teeth into my lips, he felt good.

At first he was punishing me, pressing his lips to mine and holding me pinned. I think it was when I clutched his waist, or maybe it was when a happy little moan escaped my throat, that the kiss changed. He backed off from the hurt and tilted his head for better access. I went with him, opening my lips to suck in his bottom lip. It was his turn for a little moan as he opened his mouth on mine, disengaging his lips to make room for his tongue to plunge in. Finally he released the harsh grip on my arms, sliding one hand up to cup the back of my skull and slipping the other around my waist to hold me up against him. Sweet Goddess! His chest was hard and his arms were strong and he tasted so darn good. I cursed the layers of clothing that prevented me from feeling his hardness against my bare skin.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and desperately devoured his mouth.

He bent a bit and wound an arm around underneath my rear end. He lifted me slightly so he could tilt my body and gently lower me to the rug, without ever breaking the kiss.

I gratefully accepted his weight as he settled on top of me, arms coming up under my back to hold me. I parted my legs and threw them around his waist, that eager to hold him close.

He managed to pry our lips apart, but had to bring a hand up to peel my arm from around his neck to do it.

I whimpered, switching my lips to his neck. I folded my fingers with his to keep his hand from pushing me away. When I bit his earlobe, he groaned.

“Noelle …”

“Please, Daniel, please.” I heard the begging in my voice and didn’t care. I wasn’t above begging for this. “Please.”

“We can’t …”

“We can.”

“Jake …”

“You could call him back.”

******************************************

Click here for the main Spiritual Noelle page

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

The evil witch is dead. Unfortunately, Meg killed him. With magic. A definite no-no where the Witches’ Council is concerned. If the Council can prove it, she’ll be put to death. To make matters worse, she also absorbed a hell of a lot of the witch’s power and memories and she’s barely able to contain them.

What’s a girl to do?

Rely on her shifters, of course. Michael and Rudy show every sign of sticking with her through this mess and Michael’s proven to have contacts that just might help. Wonderful of them. Except relying on them means that, Meg also has to figure out where she fits in their relationship. Is she a third wheel? Or could they really make a happy threesome?

Meg’s two for one deal has turned into more than a bargain.

*************************

©2006 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“Do you think that Roland was the only one of his kind?” The mild anger faded from Michael’s voice, and he dropped back further on the mattress, leaning on his elbows. The vivid green of the top sheet, the only covering on the bed, framed him beautifully. The position made his broad chest look even bigger. It also presented his nice fat cock to advantage. I knew it’d be warm, fragrant, and delicious if I let myself go to him to touch it.

I avoided looking at him.

“Think again, sweetheart. There are plenty of witches out there who’ll want you once they find out about you.”

“No one knows about me!”

“No? How did Roland find out?”

“I don’t know.”

“And that is cause enough for concern. He found you and had enough skill to tame you.”

Forgetting that I didn’t want to look at him, I rounded, hands on hips. “He didn’t tame –!”

He raised his voice, barreling over my protest. “He was damn near close! If you hadn’t called Rudy and me, even with your instinctive power, you’d be toast. Even with us, it was a close thing, and you know it. If I had been like most shifters and not known the first thing about magic, you’d be Roland’s right now.”

Just because it was true didn’t make it any easier for me to swallow. I avoided the matter of his unusual knowledge of magic. That was a topic for another time. I went back to pacing.

“Gwen can’t handle the store by herself anymore,” I grumbled. “There are bills to pay, and she’s hopeless at it.”

“You’ve mentioned that about a dozen times.”

“But you don’t seem to be understanding what I’m saying.”

“I understand just fine,” he snapped.

“Can you do any of it remotely?” Rudy suggested helpfully.

I turned and stopped, eyeing him from across the room. “No. Not all of it. I need the actual pieces of paper.”

He shrugged. “Maybe she can bring them to you after work tomorrow?”

“Good idea. What’s more important?” Michael asked. “The shop or your life?”

I glared at Michael, doing, I think, a good imitation of his snarl. “Damn it!” Fully aware I was being petulant, I stormed in to the bathroom and shut the door. I didn’t bother running water. They knew I was giving myself time to think. Or, if they didn’t, it didn’t matter.

I leaned on the sink, staring at myself. Big brown eyes glared back at me. I tried to see what attracted them. It couldn’t just be physical. I don’t think that I’m bad-looking, but I’m no raving beauty. Thanks to a very pale-skinned mother and a very dark-skinned father, I have skin that’s a rather nice shade of cocoa. My hair is long, straight, and on a good day, glossy almost-black. On a less-than-good day, a dull dark brown. My face is round, my eyes wide-spaced, and I think that my nose is a tad too broad and flat, although that’s not really overstated.

Nope, it wasn’t just physical. There was something about me. Something in my power that attracted them. Whether they were actually conscious of it, who knew? They probably weren’t. But whatever it was, they were willing to protect me. Willing to put their lives on the line. They’d already done so, once. They’d already shown a willingness to share the weight of unnatural power on my shoulders. They were the first in my life to offer such support. It felt good. It felt warm. It felt scary as hell.
My life was trickling away, becoming something I’d left New York to avoid. I came from one of the top families of witches; my mother was the grand dame of Northeast United States. I’d run from the dubious prestige of being the sixth daughter of a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, etcetera, back to the 1200s. I craved a life of anonymity. I didn’t want to be a mundane, but I’d love a life where magic was an aid rather than a ruling principle. Keeping Michael and Rudy didn’t ensure that I’d live that kind of life.

I finally turned on the water and used it to wash the tears from my face and brush my teeth. Grimly, I ran a brush through my hair, then headed out.

They sat on the bed, talking quietly. Michael was propped up on pillows piled against the headboard, legs spread before him. Rudy sat cross-legged in the middle of the mattress, between Michael’s feet. As I entered, he immediately rolled onto his knees, facing me. Disheveled, golden-brown hair covered one of his clear blue, concerned eyes. The fact that he wasn’t aroused meant that they really had been talking and not just amusing themselves while they waited. Michael turned, directing a sullen stare at me from beneath silky black bangs.

I stared at them. Two gorgeous men with whom I’d slept repeatedly in the last few days. With whom I now shared frighteningly strong metaphysical bonds. If I skewed my vision just a bit, I’d be able to see the orange glow of the leashes I’d put on them, circling their necks and the bases of their cocks. Those leashes were magically bound to me, rooted deep in my heart and in my womb. Despite the visual feast, despite the fact that the magic made them mine, my unenviable stubborn streak rose with a vengeance. I turned and stalked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Michael’s mild voice reached my ears.

“I’m not sleeping in here tonight.”

I heard the bed creak as Rudy bounded off it. “What?”

I turned at the door, my hand out, palm facing him.

He stopped, a look of total confusion twisting his adorable face. He spread his hands. “Meg, come on …”

“No.” I looked at Michael, knowing if I gazed too long into Rudy’s pleading eyes, I’d give.

Michael remained where he was, arms crossed, watching us. He cocked his head, his lips a line of disgust. “Stop being childish.”

Which just pissed me off more. “I’m not being childish!” Oh, yeah, that proved my point.

He rolled his eyes and turned, scooting to the edge of the bed.

“Stay where you are.”

He stood. “No.”

All six-foot-five of brawny, muscular maleness sauntered toward me. My skin tingled, anticipating his touch. I knew it so well now, craved it almost. Those green eyes fastened on me, and damned if my belly didn’t flip. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cock start to twitch to life. The tingle between my legs told me that my pussy noticed.

I pointed at him, ignoring my body’s response. Just because it was there didn’t mean I had to give in. “I mean it, Michael. I’m not sleeping with you two tonight.”

“Why not?” Goddess, that purr!

I backed a step into the hallway.

An uncertain look in his eye, Rudy glanced back as Michael advanced. “Mike …”

Michael paid him no heed, his attention on me. He reached for my arm as he passed Rudy’s shoulder. “Come here, Meg. We’ll make you forget all about work.”

“Fuck you!”

It was childish and petty, but I did it anyway. I reached inside and yanked at the leash around his neck.

His eyes went big as he staggered backwards. His legs actually gave out, and he toppled to the carpet, arms out to catch himself. It was amazingly ungraceful, especially for him. Evidently, I’d tugged a little harder than intended. I had less control over my magic when I was pissed.

I backed to the far wall of the hallway, but Rudy dashed out the door and caught my arm. “Meg, wait.”

I dropped my gaze and concentrated on the black tribal tattoo that banded his right bicep, rather than look into those beautiful blue eyes. Even if they were in shadow, I knew them too well now, and the hurt in them would be my undoing. “Let go.” I jerked my head toward the guest bedroom. “I’m sleeping in there tonight.”

“But, Meg — Hey!” Rudy stumbled back, hand falling from my arm.

I looked up.

Michael was on his feet and stood behind Rudy, hands on his shoulders. The tension in Michael’s fingers showed me he was holding Rudy back.

Rudy frowned over his shoulder, up at Michael.

Michael stared at me, nostrils flaring only slightly. His face was blank as he slid one hand down Rudy’s shoulder, spanning his palm and fingers over one of Rudy’s pecs. “Stay.” It wasn’t exactly a command, more of a heavy request.

I shook my head. Even though my body creamed in a natural reaction to all the delicious manflesh available to me, my mind wouldn’t let me enjoy it. It was the principle of the thing. I wouldn’t allow him to command me.

Rudy reached out a hand. “Meg …”

I tore my gaze from him and entered the guest room. Neither of them followed me.

******************************

Click here for the main Leashed 2: More Than A Bargain page

It’s the first story in the Leashed universe, an alternative modern day where witches and shapeshifters are real but they aren’t known to the public at large.

This series wasn’t so much inspired by my images, but there are some images I did of the boys to help me visualize them. Seen here.

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

An evil witch gives Meg two weeks to join his coven. Or else. The deadline? Samhain.

What’s a good witch to do?

Magic, of course. She casts an age-old summoning spell to attract a shapeshifter to leash for her protection. It works, but it’s a two for one deal: Rudy, a werewolf, and Michael, a werejaguar.

The excerpt at the buy link above is a good one to get an idea of the story, so I’ve included a steamier excerpt here.

********************************
©2005 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

We were all silent with our thoughts. Michael sat up, gaze pointed toward my bookshelf but I doubted my paperback collection was his focus. Rudy sank back in my chair, brimming with expectation. I stayed very still and watched Michael. He was quite obviously the leader of the two and he knew way more about the situation than I could have hoped. I felt pretty confident that, with him on my side, I could stave off Roland.

Of course, with him at my side, I’d love to do a bunch of other things. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the sheers on the window behind the couch, touching off mahogany highlights in his hair. It my have been fancy, but I’m pretty sure that I could see the ghost of the rosettes that would decorate his hide when he changed to a jaguar.

Jaguar. Sleek, silent, deadly. Top of the food chain in the rainforests of South America, if I remembered my high school studies correctly. Studying his profile, I could almost see the beast in the rounded tip of his nose and the curve of his jaw. Certainly those striking eyes were the mark of a beast. My heart stuttered as I drank in the line of his neck, watched the thumping of his pulse. Dropping my gaze down to the wide expanse of his chest and the bunching of the muscles of his arms, I wondered what those muscles felt like. I wanted to squeeze them, to see if they were as hard as they looked.

Dropping my gaze to my lap, I indulged myself with a fantasy, imagining him in his other form. Was he a yellow jaguar, or black? Was he as thick and muscular in the other form? He would have the same green eyes, the one thing about a shifter that didn’t change even if the pupil shape altered. Would his fur be soft and smooth or glossy and thick? And what about Rudy? Tall and lanky, I’d bet he was one of those slim wolves All compact power ready to be released like a spring lock. Was his pelt the same sunny brown as his hair? I’d actually touched wolves before, shifters even. I’d felt the coarse outer layer of fur and burrowed my fingers in to discover the soft, down hair beneath.

They were mine! Unbelievable! Two dangerous predators, made even more so by human intellect, and they were there to protect me. It was a heady feeling. A rush of power. Not to mention the fact that either one of them could give me masturbation material for weeks on end, just wondering what it would be like to…

“Stop that,” Michael growled.

I snapped open my eyes, not having realized I’d closed them. ”Stop what?”

“You’re playing with my leash.” He glanced at Rudy. “With both of our leashes.”

I glanced at Rudy to see him sprawled back on my comfy chair, a hot grin on his lips and his eyes at half mast. Glancing down—I couldn’t help it—I saw a discernable bulge in his jeans.

Blushing, I focused on my hands in my lap. “Sorry. I didn’t know you could feel it too.”

“You really didn’t know?”

I glared at Michael. “I’ve never leashed anyone before.”

“But you’ve been around those who have.”

“And I think I told you that I’m a horrible student. I never thought that I’d cast the spell so I never really paid much attention.”

“Why wouldn’t you cast it?”

“I don’t like the idea of owning anyone.” I tried to convey the truth with my eyes, willing him to believe me. “I really wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t desperate for help.”

Like the burgeoning dawn, a smile grew on his face, and it was devastating to my poor little heart. I think my breasts actually swelled and I know something inside my belly burst and leaked out between my thighs. He startled me by switching from the coffee table to the couch beside me. I couldn’t help the small cry that escaped my lips as I shrank back from him. He faced me, one knee folded before him and the other bent over the side. He leaned in, sliding his arm over the back of the couch to take a lock of my hair between his fingers. “What you were doing felt like a caress. Like you were running your hands through my fur, but more.” His voice had gone all low and husky and his eyes hooded even further. The combination did terrible things to my heart rate. “What did you feel?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

I jumped, yelping slightly, when Rudy bounded from the chair and dropped to his knees before me. Boldly, he pressed his belly to my knees, leaning into me like a dog might. “Don’t say that. I liked it.” He batted his eyes ridiculously at me. “Do it again.” I giggled. Couldn’t help but laugh at the puppy at my feet. I sank my fingers into the waves at his temple and he leaned into the caress, closing his eyes and smiling. I gave in to the temptation to scratch and he hummed happily, letting his tongue loll a little to the side, I think to make me giggle. Which I did. When my giggle subsided, he opened his eyes. They’d gone all half-lidded and slumberous. His hands slid up the outside of my thighs. “Do it again.”

I took a deep breath. The cute wolf was fanning the flames that the sexy cat had started somewhere in my womb. I knew that shifters could smell sexual arousal, and mine was going to soak my couch soon if I didn’t stop this. I gently straightened the hair I’d mussed around his ear. “Listen, maybe you should go back to sit in your chair.”

“Awww.” Instead, he sank down in my lap, chest on my thighs, nose practically in my belly button. Abruptly, he switched his grip on my thighs so he could pull them apart. He inhaled deeply. “You don’t really want me way over there, do you?” I pushed his shoulders to stop him from pressing in between my legs. Didn’t work. “C’mon, Rudy. Time to stop.”

“Don’t wanna,” he muttered into my navel. My t-shirt didn’t seem to be a barrier for his nuzzling. I grabbed his hair with both hands to stop him from getting to my breasts.

He opened his eyes to meet my gaze. Big blue eyes touched off something deep in my chest. “I don’t know you,” I told him sternly.

“Don’t you?” I glanced at Michael, who was watching us with … interest? Was that what I saw in that hooded gaze? “You called to us.”

“I didn’t call to you directly. I called to…” I trailed off, at a loss to explain it.

“To something within us that attracts us to you.”

“Us?”

Michael smiled. So unfair! A girl couldn’t possibly defend herself from that.

To prove the point, Rudy somehow managed to escape my hold on his hair and his hot, wet mouth closed over my nipple. I gasped. Did I even have a t-shirt and bra on?

“Wait…” I breathed, but Rudy wasn’t listening. His arms circled my waist to pull me closer, his teeth and tongue busy making my nipple love him.

I should use the leash. I should stop this. I remember thinking that very clearly. I still wasn’t even sure if Rudy was legal! I think I even started to gather the magic. But then Michael slid between me and the back of the couch. And where had his t-shirt gone?!

Never had I had the pleasure of being sandwiched between two gorgeous male bodies. Never had I melted into a puddle of goo while one feasted on my breast and the other reached inside my shirt to undo my bra. Nearly perfectly synchronized, Michael drew my shirt and bra up to my chin and Rudy left then returned to my nipple, still humming.

“OK, guys, stop,” I moaned, my tone mismatched with my words. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh yes we do,” Michael murmured. He nudged my head to the side with his nose and drew back my hair, exposing my neck for a long, wet slide of his tongue. “That’s what good little pets do.”

I squirmed, hating his word choice. “I don’t… You’re not pets.”

Rudy actually whined. “Please,” he spoke against my breast. “I want to be your pet.”

I stared at him, then gasped when Michael bit my neck. “It’s part of the leashing.”

His hands slid up to fondle my breasts as Rudy leaned back to concentrate on removing my jeans.

“No, it’s not,” I protested, fighting feebly. Rudy batted my hands aside.

“But it is,” Michael purred. Literally purred. I’d heard that big cats don’t actually purr. Whether or not that’s true, shapeshifters do purr. His chest beneath my back actually vibrated. It was a yummy feeling, like a hard, sexy buzzy mat. “Your pain is our pain. Your pleasure is our pleasure.”

********************************

Click here for the main Leashed: Two For One Deal page