Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Loose Id Titles by Kryssie Fortune
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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eISBN 9781623007935
Editor: Kierstin Cherry
Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter
Published in the United States of America
Loose Id LLC
PO Box 806
San Francisco CA 94104-0806
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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.
Warning
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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 disgustin
g 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.”
Neptune’s stooges! She’d planned to give it up tonight…to anyone, really. Then Tall, Dark, and Deadly walked in and dominated the bar. Siren instinct fired up inside her, and she’d never been so hot or so horny. She wanted to strip him and taste his cock, but the mermen had already found her. The goon’s grip dug into her shoulder. She shuddered, twisted out of his grasp, and backed off. No way was she going anywhere with stinking mermen. “Get your hands off me. You’re leaving a bruise. Your lord and master likes his solstice treat unblemished. I hear he turns nasty if we come pre marked.”
Joe obviously smelled rotting fish and glanced around to find the source. Eight men, all with odd webbed hands, surrounded Lindy. He stopped serving and walked to her side. “You heard her. Let’s calm things down here, friend. Have a drink on the house and let Lindy Lou get ready to sing.”
Bill Smith, with his fringes and John Wayne attitude, shoved his way to her side. The lead merman towered over Bill, but he refused to back down. “Is he bothering you, little lady? Either let her go, or we’ll take this outside.”
Neptune’s goon squad pressed closer, surrounding her and Bill. If she protested, someone would get hurt, and humans were so…breakable. She didn’t want trouble, but, warrior to the core, she wouldn’t accept her fate as inevitable.
For Joe’s sake, she’d play along and escape later. “All right, I’ll come without any fuss. Just leave my friends alone.”
This year her sisters hadn’t drawn lots to pick one of their young to toss to the wolves, or, more truthfully, a stinky old man with barnacle-encrusted flesh. Apparently Neptune had asked for her by name. For them to find her so quickly, he must have an oracle guiding his seek-and-retrieve team. That meant however fast she fled—and Sirens were sneaky fast—they’d find her. My best option: lose my virginity PDQ. I’ve just got to find someone worth spreading my legs for. Now that Tall, Dark, and Delicious had swaggered into her life, she had options. It was surprising how knowing she was about to be publicly screwed added extra urgency to her plans.
Her temporary submission sat badly. So would seeing the regulars or Joe hurt. Resigned, she turned to surrender, but she hadn’t reckoned on Bill Smith’s platoon of former, very human, girlfriends. As regular customers, they’d become Bill’s friends rather than his lovers. They saw him at Lindy’s side, surrounded by Neptune’s goon squad, and closed in—handbags at the ready.
Chaos erupted. Bill’s exes—all six of them—rushed to help him. They pulled mermen’s hair or kicked their shins. The women’s high-pitched squeals drowned the mermen’s curses. Then one of the merwarriors hit back.
Their boyfriends leaped to their women’s defense, fists at the ready. Joe calmly slammed a bottle of wine on the lead goon’s head. Unaware mermen were super-strong sadistic killers, more patrons piled in, eager to help their very own songstress. Lindy let rip with a note way above high C. It shattered some sensitive mer-eardrums along with a few nearby beer glasses. Any human too close looked kind of shell-shocked. The mermen nearest to her dropped to the floor, their hands clasped over their ears.
Then those two hotties waded into the mix. One step, one punch, and a merman went down. Stayed down too. The hotties hurled bodies aside as if they weighed nothing. Lindy could drool over their fighting moves for hours, but they made a beeline toward her end of the bar.
She edged toward the fire exit. If she made it before those web-handed wonders caught her, she’d be out of here so fast her footprints would scorch the floor.
The fight took on a life of its own. A flurry of kicks, and Bill fell. As she watched, women screamed. Men yelled. And still Bill lay on the floor. She couldn’t leave him, not after he’d tried to help her. She ran to his side, but as she dragged him back to his feet, someone staggered backward and slammed into her. She fell on top of Bill.
Air exploded from her chest. A ba
r stool toppled onto her back. When a body landed across it, she felt a couple of her ribs shatter.
Lindy couldn’t move, couldn’t gulp fresh air into her lungs. She knew she had to hotfoot it out the back door before Neptune’s minions grabbed her. Her talons extended, and her body tensed for battle, but all she could do was shove at the stool on her back. Sirens were peppy, strong, and powerful. The stool slipped sideways, taking a few of the bodies with it.
She shoved Bill from under the morass, but as she tried to follow, two more bodies crashed into her, taking her down again. Her generous breasts flattened in a pool of beer, and she grunted in pain. One of the club’s bouncers tripped on the upturned stool and sprawled out over her feet. Another backed into the pile of bodies and toppled onto it. The heap kept getting bigger, and Lindy was the bread at the bottom of a people sandwich.
The sheer weight pinned her to the floor and stopped her breathing. If she couldn’t inhale, she couldn’t hit the high note that’d strike fear in human hearts. One blast of her Siren-strength music, and she’d send everyone running for cover. Reaching back, she grabbed someone’s leg and used her Siren strength to heave them off. One body less. A flip of an arm, another flying body, and the weight on her chest lessened a little. She reached back again, ready to throw another overweight idiot off her back. All she could reach were a few strands of a customer’s hair. She tugged so hard they came away in her hand.
The hair’s owner rubbed his new bald patch, bellowed, and punched her arm. “Bitch. That hurt. I’ll fucking kill you for that.”
Chapter Two
Lindy was a Siren, damn it. That made her a Grade A survivor, and she wasn’t going down without a fight. Lack of oxygen made her weak. Determined to get out from under the people pile, she groped one-handed behind her. A drunk threw a bar stool. It shattered beside her and sent splinters flying everywhere. She ignored the one in her arm and concentrated on staying alert.
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