Noble Sensations
Page 1
Nature's Nobles 3
Noble Sensations
Ace Connor and Kalen Nash, both born into the Noble race with special abilities, were assigned to protect Clarissa Worthing. As with any assignment, they knew things could get dangerous and were prepared for every outcome. What they hadn’t counted on was losing their hearts so quickly to the charming, socially inept scientist.
But while trying to keep her safe and teaching her that not everything in life could be explained, they discover a dangerous secret she was keeping from them that could potentially harm the future of all Nobles. Can Ace and Kalen get past her betrayal and prove to her that love at first sight does exist? Or will the person trying to kill her succeed before they have a chance to understand why Clarissa kept the truth from them?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal
Length: 47,132 words
NOBLE SENSATIONS
Nature’s Nobles 3
Peyton Elizabeth
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
NOBLE SENSATIONS
Copyright © 2012 by Peyton Elizabeth
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-887-6
First E-book Publication: July 2012
Cover design by Les Byerley
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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DEDICATION
To my nephews…I love you!
NOBLE SENSATIONS
Nature’s Nobles 3
PEYTON ELIZABETH
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
No one could really know the force of nature, could they?
Decades ago, in a small farming community on the outskirts of Montana, a meteor crashed into a field causing mayhem and destruction among the people. Days upon days of smolder and dust rose from the crater and circulated its way through town. The soiled air seeped into the townsfolk’s skin and descended into their lungs with each mouthful they inhaled. Foreign particles traveled through mazes of tissues, merging with cells inside their blood, uniting in a way that would change creation among descendants of this small population—change that ignited fear throughout the world.
Each generation became stronger in their newfound powers. From simply being able to see the future or read people’s thoughts, to more complicated abilities such as mind control, these mutated chromosomes shifted the makeup of a new legion and beyond.
Opinions of these altered humans varied. The unaffected who feared the transformation quickly united to see these aberrations wiped from existence. Others embraced the deviation, claiming a new revolution was taking place in order to extend human life and help those in need. A civil war started between the divided sides, causing the afflicted ones to go into hiding or blend into society to hide their true nature.
They called themselves the Nobles.
Chapter One
Clarissa Worthing let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting upon entering the bar, fighting the urge to cough as smoke filled her lungs. The bass pounded through the speakers and vibrated through her body, rattling her already rickety nerves. She wasn’t sure if it was the beat of the song or her heart that suddenly sped up from that uneasy feeling of exposure. Knowing the patrons were able to take in her appearance before she could clear her vision, Clarissa blinked rapidly to dispel the tears that blurred her eyes. She waited inside the doorway until she could make out the faces of the customers and tried to reassure herself that she had made the right decision to come here. Clarissa kept her hand in the oversized red bag hanging over her shoulder, the weight of the gun giving little comfort since it had no bullets. Hopefully, just the sight of a gun would deter anyone who came after her.
As it was only midafternoon, there were very few people scattered around the bar with only one man leaning up against the counter, obviously waiting for his drink. If she counted the bartender, her quick glance around showed there were five people occupying the room. A couple convened at a table toward the back, and a man sat facing her in a booth alongside the wall. All eyes turned and stared to see what stranger dared to enter their domain, but it was the guy at the bar that caught her attention.
Clarissa took in his appearance, noticing the black-and-gray tattoo that swirled down his arm, ending at his wrist. His black T-shirt did nothing to hide the contours of his chest or the ribbed outline of his abdomen, clearly indicating he was all male. His jeans certainly fit in all the right places, too. She brought her gaze up, and their eyes clashed. Even from where she stood, Clarissa could see they were a brilliant blue and currently returning the gesture of looking her over. His hair was shaved, leaving just enough to know the color was black and make a woman wonder if it felt like silk. She mentally shook her head and tried to bring her attention back to the task at hand. When Clarissa had been given his description, she had expected to see some type of thug with a tattoo, not a walking billboard screaming Sex On A Stick…Come Lick Me. She noticed the shift of his attention as he looked at the other side of the room and followed his stare to land on the man sitting in the booth.
Oh my God, there are two of them! This one might not have the dangerous-looking tattoos, but t
he tension of his square jaw was enough to make her turn around and run out the door screaming. He might be drop-dead gorgeous, but something in his posture warned her to stay away. Where the other man was probably just shy of six feet, Clarissa could tell this one was at least that, probably more as his denim-clad legs took up the majority of space underneath the table. He had short brown hair that looked as if he had just gotten out of bed without bothering to shave, and he wore a slightly wrinkled white shirt, leaving enough empty button holes to see some fine chest hair curling underneath.
A vision of what he would look like naked, leaning over her in bed, popped into her mind. She was the one wearing his shirt, though. Clarissa’s hand automatically tightened on the gun, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she was thankful it wasn’t loaded. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea. Her life was in danger, and here she was, standing in some run-down, nondescript bar fantasizing over two men she knew nothing about. With the way her luck was going, Clarissa had trusted the wrong person and she was about to face the guillotine. Now that she thought about it, she really didn’t know that much about the person who sent her here. She’d been kind of desperate at the time and had taken her chances calling the guy.
Before her anxiety could turn into a full-blown panic, the man with the sexy brown bedhead hair rose and walked over to where Clarissa stood by the door. Having to look up, she tried to take a step back and ended up banging into the door behind her. Bedhead reached out to steady her, placing a hand on her forearm and reaching for her red tote at the same time. Trying to yank her bag back, Clarissa only ended up being able to pull the gun out and gasped when he stepped into it, causing the barrel to press into his side. Her gaze flew to his, and she was startled to see his eyes were a deep mossy green color. She had envisioned them being a dark brown from the way his eyes penetrated her from across the room. They were beautiful though—and also filled with disbelief.
“What are you doing with a gun?” Bedhead growled, his low, raspy voice causing a shiver to run down her spine. Even his voice is sexy, she thought. Shoving that thought away, Clarissa put her other hand on the gun to try and steady it. “Put that thing away before you hurt yourself.”
Clarissa would have laughed at that statement, had she not been so scared. Bedhead was worried she would hurt herself, yet he was the one with the gun jabbed into his side. He didn’t know it didn’t contain bullets. His words finally sunk in. If he wanted to kill her, why would he be worried about the gun hurting her?
“I know you’re scared, but you have nothing to fear from us. We’re the ones assigned to meet with you to discuss your problem.” Bedhead stepped even closer, putting his hand on the door beside Clarissa’s head, and leaned down to whisper, “Please put the gun away before someone sees you pointing it at me and calls the cops. The last thing we need is unwanted attention, although I doubt the people of this establishment would ever call law enforcement of their own free will. I promise, you’re safe with us.”
“And how do I know you’re not just saying that and the minute I put my gun away, you’ll kill me?” Clarissa asked with a shaky voice, blowing a stray curl away from her face that had escaped the clip she’d used earlier to keep her wild mane tamed. If he was lying, she better be able to see what was coming.
“Because I just told you we’re the ones you’re supposed to meet. How would I know that piece of information if I was some stranger?” Bedhead smirked. Irritation was starting to set in and replace her fear. His attitude left a lot to be desired. Clarissa wondered what it would take to wipe away his know-it-all grin. “And for the record, if we wanted you dead, your body would have hit the floor the minute you walked into this bar. I definitely wouldn’t be standing here letting you bruise my ribs with a gun while your hands are shaking like a leaf.”
Clarissa studied him, trying to figure out if she should trust him or not. Her judgment was a little skewed, considering she hadn’t slept well in the last few weeks. Being a target for murder wasn’t something she was used to, and really, what choice did she have but to put her faith in this man? Taking a deep breath, Clarissa made a snap decision to go along with the plan. Her odds of staying alive had to be better with him than on her own.
“Then why did you come over here looking like you were going to attack me and grab my bag?” Clarissa asked, not able to hide her exasperation. Her trepidation might have lowered, but she was smart enough to keep her guard up. She yanked her bag out of his hands. She tried to shove her gun back inside the tote, but he snatched it from her before she succeeded. Noticing his eyebrows rise at her cavalier attitude at handling the weapon, he quickly glanced at it. She knew the minute he realized it wasn’t loaded, because he shook his head in obvious amusement.
“I wasn’t attacking you, and I only went for your bag because I thought you were going to drop it.” Bedhead put his warm hand on the lower part of her back and steered her toward the booth he had occupied earlier. He’d placed her weapon somewhere behind him, probably in his waistband. “Your anxiety level is sky-high, and the last thing we need is to cause a scene where people remember us.”
“And what would you know about my anxiety level?” Clarissa tried to take a hurried step ahead so his hand wasn’t resting on her back, but she couldn’t shake him. She wasn’t comfortable with how her body was responding to his, let alone how her panties dampened at his friend’s stare. That had never happened to her before, being instantly attracted to someone. It was like her body was now just coming alive after thirty-four years.
If Clarissa wasn’t mistaken, she was at least five years older than they were and definitely not their type. They would never go for someone like her, a science geek who got along better with her lab rats than people. Besides, they probably had scads of tall blonde bombshells at their disposal that knew how to have sex. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how, because she’d had sex a time or two to see what all the fuss was about. It had turned out it wasn’t her thing with all the groping and fondling. She would much rather spend her time in the lab working on her research.
“More than you know,” Bedhead muttered under his breath, bringing her attention back to the present. Did that mean he suffered from anxiety, too?
Clarissa ventured a glance over at Bedhead’s friend, who was now carrying three bottles of beer in their direction. She couldn’t help but wonder if he groped during foreplay, and while her mind wandered, Clarissa’s hip banged into the side of a table, causing Bedhead to grab her around the waist and pull her tight against him. Her heart fluttered, and her nipples tightened against the bra she wore. It made Clarissa think maybe there was more to sex than inexperienced mauling. She had only taken two steps when that absurd thought brought her to a screeching halt, and Bedhead almost kept going, tripping over her feet. Clarissa saw the exasperated look he shot her way, and embarrassment set in. It wasn’t like she would ever have a chance with either one of them anyway, Clarissa told herself.
“Are you okay?” Bedhead asked, his fingers lowering to the spot that was now throbbing from the impact with the table. If he thought he was making the throbbing go away, he was dead wrong. These feelings they were igniting felt unsettling, and Clarissa was having trouble connecting her thoughts. It had to be lack of sleep and the fear that someone wanted to kill her that had her brain scrambled. She hadn’t been able to work for a while either, and that had her out of sorts. Clarissa felt a tiny bit better now that she could pinpoint why she was reacting this way. There was always a reason for everything.
“Fine,” Clarissa squeaked out, grateful she had reached the booth and slid inside, purposefully placing her tote on the outside, near the edge. It would force the two men to sit opposite her. She needed space—a lot of space.
Clarissa reminded herself that she was just a scientist as she rubbed her hip. She would be the first to admit that she was accident prone outside the lab. Her parents always joked that she had two different personalities. She was a walking encyclopedia and could rememb
er facts like people remembered to put on shoes. She was also lucky to have been born with classically good features, considering she didn’t have time to get all dolled up. She never applied makeup in the morning and didn’t really bother with her hair. She had light brown hair that, unfortunately, was so unruly, she usually kept it subdued with some type of clip. She was way too busy to deal it. Going through this mental list of her flaws made Clarissa feel better. These two would never be attracted to her, scientifically speaking that is. She couldn’t handle these two anyway and wasn’t too proud to admit it. It was time to clear her thoughts and focus on what was important—staying alive and finishing her research.
Blue Eyes pushed a beer her way, and she stared at the bottle as if it were poison. She had a killer after her, and they wanted her to drink alcohol? Clarissa was going to call her contact the second she had a chance. She didn’t care how sexy these two men were. It was obvious there were not professional bodyguards, and she shouldn’t trust her life to two Casanovas who liked to drink. Didn’t they know what alcohol did to a person’s system? Once they drank the beer, assuming they hadn’t eaten, it was absorbed into the lining of their stomachs. It only took one minute to reach their brain and then slow their response time. If someone walked in the door right now, they’d be toast. The longer the silence dragged on, the more Clarissa’s previous anxiety returned, which had her twitching in her seat.
“You’re Clarissa Worthing, I presume?”
* * * *
Ace Connor observed as Clarissa’s brown eyes widened at his question, and for the hundredth time since she walked through the door, he asked himself what it was about her that had his dick hard the minute their eyes met. She was nothing like the usual women he and Kalen went for. Sure, she was tall and thin, but totally unaware of her sexuality that lay beneath the surface, and she had an innocent quality that didn’t set well with him. He and Kalen shared their women and, because of that, usually steered themselves toward sexually experienced women. She was clearly a GG—goody-goody—if the disgusted look at the beer sitting in front of her was any indication.