Authors: Charity Parkerson
Sated
Sated
By
Charity Parkerson
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--Warning: This book is intended for readers over the age of 18.
Copyright © 2014 Charity Parkerson
Editor: Hercules Editing and Consultants
Photographer: Andrey Kiselev
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Belchonock
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction
(Erotica, Dark Romance, F/M and M/M scenes, Rock Star Romance, Ménage, Sexy Detective, Alpha Male, Supernatural themes)
“Losing her mind wasn’t an experience she enjoyed.”
After a steamy night of passion with a dark stranger, Arbor’s life takes on a surreal edge. Disturbing dreams, lapses in memory, and entire buildings going missing are only a few of her problems. Her search for answers leads her to Detective Trey Murphy, the man in charge of investigating satanic and ritualistic crime for the New Orleans area.
Where do you turn when your mind is the enemy?
Meeting Trey only adds to Arbor’s confusion. By day, he keeps her captivated and gains her trust in a way no one else ever has. At night, Arbor’s every fantasy is brought to life by two sexy men who steal away her inhibitions. Torn between what her heart knows is real and what her eyes show her, Arbor must find the truth before she loses herself completely.
But, then again, sometimes reality is more twisted than any dream and love is the cruelest form of insanity.
**Author Note**
Warning: This isn’t your typical love story. It’s dark with scenes some may find disturbing. Sometimes love
is
senseless, and the heart is so very stupid.
“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”—Edgar Allen Poe
Chapter One
“Is it possible to fall in love with two men? Lord. I’ve been asking myself that question every day since meeting Killian and Lyric. From the moment Lyric’s jacket fell around my shoulders in the park, I’ve been hooked. Killian’s eyes crinkle in the corners in a way that always steals my breath away. He’s the perfect mixture of sweet and dirty. Wow. The things he says…it’s almost too much. I can’t get enough. Lyric is the quiet one, but so deep. When he speaks, I want to hear his every thought. It doesn’t hurt that his lips are perfect. Damn. I’m in trouble. These men are famous. What in the hell are they doing with me? There’re two of them. That’s twice as many women they should want besides me. They keep showing up. I keep letting them in. What will I do when they stop?”—October 10
th
.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Killian was fascinated by the scene playing out across the bar. He’d had one eye glued on the tiny blonde since she walked through the door. If there was one detail he could point to in order to explain his captivation, it was that she didn’t fit in. Thank God. Her innocence was almost tangible when set next to the other occupants of the hardcore gothic club.
“How about I just sit with you, then?”
“No, thank you.”
Killian leaned forward in his seat, even going as far as to set his elbow on the bar and cup his chin—openly staring. Not only was she not giving the guy the time of day, she hadn’t as much as glanced in his direction to see if she might be interested. On the other hand, the dude couldn’t seem to look away from her. That made two of them. Killian was engrossed.
“Are you sure? You’re going to need someone to walk you out. This is kind of a rough joint.” It was. Killian would know.
“I’m sure. Have a nice night.”
He really wanted her to look. The guy was hot, possibly the best of the lot. She had at least three women staring at her with open malice simply because the guy was talking to her. Showing a determination that impressed Killian, the dude braced one hand on the wooden surface beside him and one on the back of her chair, boxing the woman in. The invasion of her personal space forced her to acknowledge his presence. As if it were possible, Killian stared even harder. He was almost afraid to blink in case he missed her reaction to seeing who she’d been ignoring. She turned her head, meeting the man’s gaze. Not a single ounce of emotion marred her features as she eyed the guy’s blond hair, dark eyes, and muscles flexing on her behalf. The dude smiled. It was slow and obviously practiced. A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth and straight white teeth gleamed even in the darkly lit club.
“I’m married.”
Killian chuckled. “Liar.”
She turned in his direction, meeting his gaze as if she’d heard him. Light-green eyes flashed wickedly. Her mouth turned up in one corner, as if competing with her gaze for top mischief-maker. Goddamn. No wonder the dude wouldn’t leave her be.
“So what?” The boy-toy’s response pulled her focus back his way. Killian caught himself lifting up in his chair as if he meant to physically reclaim her attention.
“There are two women sitting behind me who’d love what you’re offering. Enough to share,” she tacked on in an obvious attempt to sweeten the deal. Killian glanced behind her. Yep. There were. The dude didn’t look, but he did straighten away.
“They’re a sad substitute for you.”
A hint of a smile touched her lips. “But a substitute nonetheless. Have fun.” If she’d meant her dismissal to lure the man in further, making him want her more, then she’d succeeded. It was written all over the guy’s face. However, he did give in.
“If you change your mind…”
“I know where you’ll be.” She didn’t bother softening the blow with another smile. Killian was on his feet, pushing his way through the crowd and intent on reaching her before the dust settled in Mr. Studly’s tracks. He saw her chin tilt in the direction of where he’d been sitting, but he couldn’t see her face. He almost changed his mind. In the end, his greed won out, as always.
Killian didn’t give her time to deny him the way she had the other guy. Instead, he braced his hands against the edge of the bar on either side of her, caging her in. With her pinned in place, he nodded at the bartender to bring her another drink. She didn’t tense or turn her head as he crowded her body, inhaling her sweet scent and speaking against her ear.
“You should’ve taken his offer. It wasn’t a bad deal.”
A chill raced down Arbor’s spine, circling her body to tighten the muscles in her stomach and moisten her panties. Clenching her back teeth against the moan rising in her throat, she tilted her chin, bringing his face into view. Holy hot eyeliner. He was smoking. She’d never seen a man in eyeliner except for TV shows. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected it to be so goddamn sexy. It turned out that when it coated sky-blue eyes that were attached to a chiseled face, she was on board. As she focused on his lips, which were heaven sent, she realized she hadn’t responded.
“I found his offer unappealing.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t have sleeve tattoos and your English accent,” she almost answered. Unfortunately, in her attempt not to say it, she ended up blurting out something worse. “I have no desire to spend my night waiting for some man to leave so I can masturbate.”
He didn’t as much as blink. “What if I told you I could guarantee he wouldn’t have left you hanging?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I’m still not interested.”
“Why?”
This was—by far—the oddest conversation she’d ever experienced. She couldn’t stop. “There’s a difference between satisfied and sated. A subtle yet powerful difference. I want to be sated.” His lashes lowered until he watched her with a hooded gaze. An image of being on her knees as he took her hard from behind flashed across her mind. It was so vivid she almost pressed her knees together. Her body was burning. Even the brush of her clothing against her skin made her want to scream. A drink appeared in front of her, breaking the spell. The man working the bar disappeared before she had time to argue. Not to mention, any thought of doing so vanished as she watched one of the hands caging her in move toward her. His palm flattened against her chest, right under her collarbone, hitting the bare skin above her V-neck shirt. Her heart slammed against it. His fiery touch was innocent and undemanding. She wanted to obey his corruption. Her channel pulsed. His mouth touched the shell of her ear.
“We’ll see how much you mean those words. Enjoy your drink.” His muscles tensed. She knew he was going to move away.
“I’m Arbor,” she said before he could get away.
“Arbor,” he breathed, sounding like the wickedest of sinners and the holiest rendition. With a dip of his chin, he added, “Killian.” The heat pressing against her back disappeared, and he was gone. Killian. Fuck. Even his name was sexy. Before Arbor could change her mind, she tossed back the vodka sour. As the empty glass hit the wooden surface in front of her, the bartender seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Would you like a refill?”
She did some quick calculations, wondering if it would be cheaper to ask for the bottle. “How much do I owe you?”
“Your money is no good here. You don’t pay for anything ever.”
Something about his tone pulled her mind out of its haze. It seemed wrong somehow not to pay. She opened her mouth to argue. The screech of an electric guitar sliced through the air, cutting off her words and drawing her attention toward the darkened stage. She couldn’t see a thing. Turning back to the server, she thought to ask who was playing, but he was gone again. With a shrug, she lifted her freshly refilled glass to her lips and focused once more on the band. A series of multi-colored lights fired to life, revealing the gleaming stage and the men standing in the center of it. There were two microphones and five band members. The two men singing were also playing guitars, so she wasn’t sure which one had sent the first chords wailing through the air. The one detail she didn’t miss was that one of them was Killian.
Killian played from memory and on auto-pilot while easily keeping an eye on Arbor. Setting aside the fact she was the only person wearing a light pink shirt and jeans in a club filled with black lipstick and leather, she didn’t move from her spot at the bar. Even as the hour turned late, and the crowd grew wilder, she still didn’t budge. He’d marked his territory, ensuring her safety. It didn’t matter to his patience. The desire to be done with this set was overwhelming. There was too much night left in his schedule, but in this place, everyone played their part. It was the way of things. It didn’t stop him from seeking her out the first break he got. Damned if she wasn’t fending off the same fucking guy. The first time, it had been entertaining. This time, it pissed him off.