Legends
The Sextet Presents… Bound by Voodoo
Fantasies abound when sex therapist Aurora Bond receives a gift of four anatomically correct dolls from a voodoo priestess. Preferring to have all three of her handsome building mates rather than choosing only one, she uses the dolls to her advantage. Her suspicion that two of the men are already involved sends her imagination soaring to places even her kinkiest clients haven’t ventured.
Winston DeLong and Miles Parrish have an uncommitted sexual relationship, and Winston wants more. When Miles leaves him high and dry, he turns to the new guy in the building.
Aurora’s former high school classmate Barrett Cunningham has barely acknowledged his bisexuality when Winston makes an offer he can’t refuse. His desires go beyond experimentation, but he’ll have to convince Winston and Miles to reunite before they can all share Aurora. When the men discover the voodoo dolls, they use them to ensure a happy ending for all.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal
Length: 31,284 words
THE SEXTET PRESENTS…
BOUND BY VOODOO
Legends
Mellanie Szereto
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
THE SEXTET PRESENTS… BOUND BY VOODOO
Copyright © 2012 by Mellanie Szereto
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-806-0
First E-book Publication: November 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of The Sextet Presents… Bound by Voodoo by Mellanie Szereto from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Mellanie Szereto’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Szereto’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
This story is dedicated to my late mother-in-law. She was a wonderful lady who died too young. Like Barrett, my husband is affected every day by the loss of his mom. **Sending hugs to all my readers who know this feeling**
THE SEXTET PRESENTS…
BOUND BY VOODOO
Legends
MELLANIE SZERETO
Copyright © 2012
Chapter 1
Eyeing the facedown card, Aurora Bond concentrated on keeping a straight face. Her cheek already stung from biting the inside of it for the past five minutes. One tell, and she could lose the hand, her dignity, and every last penny she’d added to her rainy-day fund in the past three months.
She almost snorted.
This hand is mine.
The chance at a few extra bucks meant little after winning the last three hands. Exaggeration and melodrama were strangers to her list of behaviors—except when she had to convince her confident brain to tone down its arrogance.
If he folds, I still win.
The biker stared at her for several long moments, his gaze sending her stomach tumbling to her knees. He was going to be pissed about losing again. Then he glanced down at his cards and back up. A handful of chips clacked onto the mound in the middle of the table, the jaw of the skull tattoo on his forearm flexing in a mocking silent laugh. “Call.”
Eyebrows rose and grins broadened around the perimeter of the playing field. Evidently, those who’d folded this hand thought Felix had her beat. He should’ve, considering the ace, king, queen, and jack laying faceup in front of him. Sure, they were a mix of red and black, but with the cockiness he’d shown while betting, the chances of him having a ten were good. The third had played out in the last hand.
Giving a nod, Aurora added her bet to the pot. “Let’s see what you got.”
He flipped over a four, an eight, and a ten. “That’s a straight, darlin’.”
Her teeth ached from the tension in her jaw, and she frowned. “I really hate being called darlin’. And I know what a straight looks like.”
She turned over a hidden two of hearts to go with the jack, seven, and five of spades and the two of diamonds.
Felix laughed. “A pair of twos?”
Another snap against the table revealed the five of hearts.
He shook his head. “Sorry, honey, but a straight beats two pair.”
Toying with the last card, she sighed. “Yes, I know, sweetie pie. And another five makes a full house—which beats a straight.”
His gaping mouth and wide eyes morphed into a scowl. “No fucking way.”
“Ya be watchin’ yer language, or ya won’t be welcome here no more.” A piercing stare came from the old woman in the corner. She’d almost disappeared into the shadows with her quiet demeanor, black shawl, and latté-colored skin.
His chair scraped against the floor as he rose, his eyes flitting to his friends. “Sorry, Miz Deschamps. Didn’t mean to offend you.”
He handed her a fistful of bills on his way to the exit. The room cleared behind him.
“Smart ya be with da numbers, girlie, but ya best use yer head when dealin’ with da likes o’ what comes in here.” Crooking her finger, the old woman shuffled from the card room down the hall toward the bar. “Follow me. What be yer name?”
Aurora scooped her winnings into her tote bag befor
e hurrying after the owner of the tavern. “Aurora, but most people call me Rory.”
Her guide made a quick left turn into a small office. “Ah, a bright ray o’ light. Ya give a gift to da world, and now ya get a gift in return.”
Actually, my bank account will get a gift.
Rory dug a handful of chips at a time from her bag. “My friends tell me my personality glows in the dark. I haven’t decided if that’s a good thing or not.”
Stepping behind the desk, Ms. Deschamps withdrew a key on a chain from the front of her flowing dress. “’S good so long as ya be true to yerself.”
Rory searched the bottom of her tote as she barked a laugh and then began stacking the chips in piles of ten. “Oh, I’m true to myself all right. The problem I have is finding a guy who’ll be true to me—especially after he finds out I’m sarcastic and I don’t take crap from anybody. And I tend to forget to keep my mouth shut sometimes.”
With the last of chips piled, the old woman counted out Rory’s winnings. “Nine hundred eighty dollars.”
The butterflies in Rory’s stomach did a happy dance. “That’d buy a lot of vibrators. Um, I guess I should tell you I’m a sex therapist. I’m in New Orleans for a convention.”
“Da gift I have will not seem odd to ya den.” Ms. Deschamps opened a storage cabinet, the door blocking Rory’s view of its contents. After several moments of unintelligible murmuring, the old woman emerged with a sack tied closed at the top. “Don’t look inside ’til ya get back to yer room. ’Twill help ya decide who to trust wit’ yer heart.”
Taking the bag, Rory nodded and slid the package into her tote bag. She tucked the wad of bills between her too-large breasts. Maybe she ought to spend the money on reduction surgery instead of sex toys. Men might take her more seriously if they weren’t so busy staring at her boobs while she handed out samples of sexual aids.
“Keep yer mind and heart open, and ya will find happiness, Aurora.” The old woman’s eyes seemed to see past Rory’s poker face to the skepticism beneath. “More love awaits ya than ya could ever imagine.”
A man loving Rory Bond with all his heart and soul? She wasn’t about to hold her breath. With a shrug, she handed Ms. Deschamps a twenty to cover two root beers and a generous tip. “Thanks for letting me sit in on the game tonight. And for the gift.”
“Ya don’t believe. But ya will.”
Rory hurried from the office before she gave in to the urge to shudder from the creepy-crawlies wiggling up her spine. She’d heard about the superstitions mixed with religion in parts of southern Louisiana. That didn’t mean she bought the weird stories or put any stock in hexes. Voodoo was nothing more than people subconsciously making events happen because they expected them to unfold that way.
It’s just a bunch of hocus-pocus.
Weaving across the crowded bar, she aimed for the exit. Every pair of eyes that turned to look at her sent another ripple of prickles over her skin. By the time she finally reached the sidewalk outside the tavern, the disconcerting feeling had settled in her stomach.
Man, I’m glad I didn’t come down here after dark.
She took a deep breath and set off for the hotel. Each step away from the bar should’ve eased her nervous tension, but she couldn’t shake the case of heebie-jeebies. Glancing down, she stepped over a seam in the sidewalk, and then another and another.
A meow and a flash of black from the left sent her heart racing.
Black cats are not bad luck.
At the bakery two doors ahead, a man stood atop a ladder adjusting a banner. She gave the obstacle a wide berth. A flutter in her tummy set off an eye roll.
It’s coincidence. That’s all.
With a clear view of her hotel’s upper floors two blocks away, she resisted the desire to pick up the pace. She hated jogging. Besides, she’d probably end up tripping if she tried to run in her spike-heeled shoes. Then she’d fall, ruin her favorite jeans, and lose the wad of cash hiding in her bra—not to mention damage a brand-new pair of strappy sandals.
She lengthened her stride as she crossed the street, avoiding several rowdy groups of partiers headed the direction she’d come from. Maybe she’d soak in the tub before she packed up for her early morning flight home. She could order room service and enjoy some peace and quiet.
The foot traffic thinned a bit when she reached the next intersection. A car horn sounded beside her when she reached the middle of the crosswalk, making her heart skip a beat. She resisted glaring at the offender.
“Hey, baby! You charge by the hour or the night?” Male laughter carried to her over the street noise.
Her hand almost shot up in an automatic gesture, but she stopped herself. Hell, they’d probably think she was making them an offer if she flipped them the bird.
Go screw yourselves, losers. No woman in her right mind would want you. Besides, you couldn’t afford me.
While she’d encouraged a few of her clients to try hooker-and-john role-playing, paying for sex just didn’t make sense in the real world. Nearly anyone could get laid with no strings attached if he or she went to the right bar, club, or hangout. Her master’s thesis had detailed her observations and included anonymous surveys of the people she’d watched to collect her data.
She’d chosen to go into sex therapy after studying human sexual nature in greater detail for her dissertation. Her parents had been horrified until they found out their daughter would be able to comfortably support herself rather than living in her old bedroom. Having “doctor of philosophy” following her name hadn’t hurt, either.
Whoop-de-do, a doctor in the family.
Crossing the next street, Rory aimed for the hotel’s main entrance. In a matter of minutes, she stood in front of her door. A quick swipe gained her entrance into the room, and she transferred her poker winnings to her purse. Dropping her bag on the bed, she stripped out of her clothes and headed to the bathroom to fill the tub. She added a capful of vanilla-scented bodywash to the running water.
Room service for supper.
Having studied the menu numerous times, she made the call, requesting a bottle of red wine to go with her meal. The half-hour wait was the perfect amount of time for her leisurely bath.
Not one to waste an opportunity, she returned to her tote to retrieve her latest work-related purchase. She could hardly recommend sex toys to her clients without having tried them out first. The “gift” from Ms. Deschamps brought a momentary twinge of curiosity, but she set aside the unopened bag in favor of a possible orgasm. After some fun, she might be ready for a peek.
She carried the new waterproof vibrator into the bathroom, along with a package of double-A batteries and a bottle of lube. No one had batted an eye when she’d bought them from the booth of her favorite online sex toy shop at the conference. Her colleagues might not offer assistance in some of the areas she did in her practice, but at least they weren’t prudes.
Opening the box, she set the instructions on the counter and pulled the triple-action device free of its packaging. She’d watched the informational video and had no problems installing the batteries or resealing the protective covering. Any woman with half an active imagination could figure out what each appendage was meant for and where to insert it. A few experimental pushes of the remote control’s buttons gave her enough basic knowledge to have a pleasure party in the tub.
Water lapped at the overflow drain, with bubbles forming a lovely cloud on top. She leaned in to turn off the tap and then dipped a toe into the bath.
Perfect.
A generous squeeze of lube coated the rear portion of the vibrator. Stepping into the warm water, she settled in the aromatic froth with her toy. If it didn’t meet her needs in the twenty minutes she had available to soak, her review would reflect the failure as soon as she logged into her frequent-buyer account.
Anticipation already had her pussy juices flowing, but her ass hadn’t seen any action for at least a month. Water wasn’t the best lubricant, either, even if the heat
relaxed her muscles. Hopefully, the slippery gel would make for a smooth entrance. Easing her bottom up several inches, she slid the Trois Orgasmes into place and slowly lowered herself onto the vaginal dildo-shaped part. As the thick cock glided into her cunt, a firm, narrow tip pressed against her anus. The aerodynamic design met with little resistance when the butt plug penetrated her tight hole.
Okay, maybe I was ready for a visit to the back door.
Inch by inch, the first two appendages filled her, until the smallest of the limbs finally rubbed over her clit. The placement certainly seemed right, but she still had to test the power of each vibrating arm.
With the wireless remote in her right hand, she tapped the up arrows to the dildo control. The speed intensified a level at a time to a persistent humming against her G-spot. A forward and back rocking increased the sensation, and she activated the clitoral stimulator. Every movement sent the wiggling finger slicking over her bundle of nerves. The anal attachment’s slight in-and-out motion added a new dimension to the pleasure building between her thighs.
Giving the third set of arrows several upward clicks, she gasped at the sudden contractions rippling through her. A moan crept up her throat, and she set down the remote to give her nipples a gentle squeeze. Half a second later, a powerful spasm swept her away with its wave after wave of breath-stealing satisfaction. Her inner muscles grasped at the invaders, their vibrations carrying her along a seemingly endless current of bliss.
She closed her eyes, savoring the stimulation still thrumming along her nerve endings as she let out one long groan. Another orgasm nearly sent her sinking under the water. Grabbing for the remote, she forced her gaze to focus on the controls responsible for turning off her trio of lovers before she drowned.
The Sextet Presents... Bound by Voodoo [Legends] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 1