Tuesday, May 27, 2014

SY WREN’S CALL by Lynn Hagen & Stormy Glenn

Phanta City 4
By Lynn Hagen & Stormy Glenn
Sy Wren has had it up to his ears with the werewolf stalking him. Until he's kidnapped by a demon, that is. His life is becoming increasingly complex. Worse yet, he becomes attracted to the demon holding him captive. His life just keeps getting more complex. Then, when men far worse than anyone he's ever met before come after him, Sy has no choice but to trust the demon.
It's just business. That's all. Daemon Brimstone is sent after Sy Wren, a siren who can lull any man with a few melodic notes of his voice. Thankfully, demons are immune to the siren's call. Daemon has no problem kidnapping Sy. Or so he thinks. Complications arise when Sy starts to become more than just a contract.
When the contract on Sy's head brings the worst of Phanta City to Daemon's door, he must flee with his prisoner or risk losing Sy forever.
He flirted with his red boa, shook his hips from side to side, and sang to the rowdy crowd. His earlier tension drained, leaving Sy to have a great time on stage, shaking his money maker and belting out his favorite list of songs. That was until he saw Fang moving around the tables, as if he were trying to get a closer seat.
Don’t panic. The man isn’t going to do anything in front of this crowd.
 Sy made sure he stayed away from that side of the stage—which really sucked considering all the money that was being waved into the air. Gritting his back teeth, Sy forced himself to strut over there. He kept a good distance from Fang as he jutted his hip out and continued to sing. This was his career, his life, and Sy wasn’t going to let anyone scare him away from what he loved doing.
He just wasn't going to allow the man to get close to him. He was being brave, not asking for trouble. Sy set one foot in front of the other, gripping the microphone as his eyes scanned over the crowd. The music flowed, as well as the drinks, which only helped the customers toss more bills at Sy's feet. 
His eyes drifted back toward his stalker and to his dismay, Fang wink at him as he raised his glass. Sy wanted to kick the wolf in the face, but restrained himself.
When his last number ended, Sy hauled ass behind the curtain, hurrying down the steps of the stage. His heel caught and he almost went sprawling, but thankfully he managed to keep himself upright. The last thing he wanted to do was sprain his ankle.
He stopped at the bouncer's side before looking over his shoulder to make sure Fang wasn’t hot on his heels. This routine was getting tiring and Sy wished the wolf would just disappear. Sy grabbed the bouncer's arm and guided him back toward the curtain. He parted it before he said, "The nutjob is back."
The bouncer's eyes glinted with anger. "I'll keep him from getting to you."
"Thanks." Knowing the bouncer was going to keep Fang away didn’t stop Sy's stomach from tying into knots. There was still the small fact of Sy leaving the Tuck & Tease Lounge. Fang might be waiting for him in the parking lot.
The shit I get myself into.
Which only reminded Sy of the date he was supposed to have tonight. Count Vladimir Dracul had called in a favor and Sy knew he couldn’t turn the coven leader down. He owed the vampire.
But he was in no mood to entertain some Ministry guard. Sy had bigger problems on his hands. But if he didn’t show, Vlad would have his neck.
Once back in the dressing room, Sy showered and changed into a pair of tan cargo pants and a light-brown sweater. It wasn’t his normal get-up, but he was trying to throw Fang off of his trail. In this bland getup, he blended in, and that was just what he needed to escape his psychotic stalker.
Fat chance considering the man had the ability to scent Sy out. He also didn’t want to lead his date on. Sy was doing this as a favor. He'd never even met this Van Pierre before. With the way his luck was going, the man would be butt ugly.
Please don’t let him be butt ugly.
At this point, Sy would take anyone who wouldn’t hound him like Fang. Being stalked wasn’t flattering in the least. It was downright scary. Especially considering that Fang was twice Sy's size.
"You knocked 'em dead," Kat said as he winked at Sy. "I wish I could sing like you."
"Honey, you have the looks," Sy said as he stared at the gorgeous guy. Kat Nipp really was a looker, and he knew how to use it. He had more admirers than even Sy did. "You rake in enough dough for the both of us."
Kat batted his eyelashes. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
Too bad it couldn’t get him out of his current situation or he'd flatter the shit out of Fang and Van Pierre. Resigned to a night of false smiles and fake laughter, Sy headed out of the club. The parking lot was empty. The security lights were shining brightly over the rows of cars. The owner of the Tuck and Tease Lounge believed in keeping his customers safe. Sy had been tempted a dozen times to tell his boss that he was being stalked, but Sy didn't want a big production made. As naïve as it was, he kept hoping that Fang would just give up.
He crept toward his car, scanning the parking lot. It took him six seconds to get from the door to behind his steering wheel. Sy maneuvered out of the parking lot and onto Bishop Road, heading toward Massimo De Milano restaurant. Part of him hoped that he was stopped at the door for his lack of attire so he wouldn’t have to suffer through this date.
But luck was still shitting on him. The maître ď happily showed Sy to his seat. Van Pierre wasn’t here yet, which only gave Sy time to think…and think…and think.
Sy was sitting there tapping a thin breadstick on the table, ready to leave when he spotted the hottest guy to walk on two legs. The man walked through the restaurant as if he owned the entire world.
Sy felt his cock perk right up as he stared at the cleanly shaven face, a dark expensive suit, and a chiseled cut that said the stranger took damn good care of his body.
And the man was heading right for him.
Sy sat up straight, feeling like a boob for not looking his best. He wished he had put out all of the stops when the man drew nearer.  If this was Van Pierre, he would have to thank Vlad.
"Monsieur Wren."
The stranger dipped his head before he took Sy's hand and kissed the back of his knuckles. "What a pleasure to finally meet you."
There was a high possibility that Sy was drooling. Thankfully when he wiped at his mouth, it was dry. "Van Pierre?"
" Ouí." Van took a seat, his musky cologne wafting toward Sy like an invitation to get naked. If they weren't in such a swank restaurant, he just might have.

Daemon picked up another piece of lobster and popped it in his mouth. His eyes never left Sy’s burning face. The sexual awareness that hung in the air between them was almost palpable. Daemon had felt it the first moment he had seen Sy dancing on stage a few weeks ago. He had chalked it up to the man’s stage performance.
Now, he wasn’t so sure. After watching Sy dance this evening, Daemon knew it was something more.
So much more.
The tension flowing between the two of them could have lit up Phanta City for an entire week, maybe two. Daemon's skin tingled, the hairs on his arms stood on end. Sweat trickled down the middle of his spine.
It matched the bead of sweat he could see slide down Sy’s neck and into his shirt. And damn, the shirt was so sheer that Daemon could just barely make out the man’s dark nipples through the thin material.
He arrived in the room after Sy had sat down. How sheer were those pants?  Did it really matter? Daemon only wanted to know how Sy looked totally naked, spread out on the bed. 
His body clenched, his cock thickened, and his pulse raced as need clawed at him.
Daemon had hard time drawing breath into his lungs. He wanted to reach across the space between them, grab the alluring man, and drag Sy into his arms. It was a battle to stay where he was and not give into his raging desires.
When the sweet, erotic scent of Sy's arousal floated on the air toward him, Daemon flicked his forked tongue out, a deep groan welling up from his soul.
It was an intoxicating flavor, thick and tangible. It was probably the most wonderful scent Daemon had ever tasted. He wanted to lick it off of Sys skin, one drop of sweat at a time.
The scent made his dick hard. Made his balls draw up tight in hunger and his fingers curl with the need to touch.
This is what happened when a man denied himself for too long.
He stood, the chair clattering behind him. Sy's eyes rounded as he gazed from his plate to Daemon.
Sy got up from the table, his napkin falling from his lap as he backed away. The man could run, but he wasn’t going to get far.
Daemon stalked the man across the room until Sy had nowhere to run but up on the bed. Sy started crawling across the mattress as if he knew he was being hunted.
The closer to the platform bed Daemon walked, the farther up Sy scooted until he hit the headboard.
He had Sy right where he wanted him. Sy's eyes were glittering with disbelief as Daemon moved onto the bed. He sank to his hands and knees and started climbing toward the man he planned to balls deep inside of in the next ten minutes—two if they skipped the foreplay. He lowered his eyelids to tiny slits, licking his tongue across his bottom lip.
Sy was going to be his. 
The siren swallowed so loudly that the sound echoed in the room. His hands clenched the pillows, his expression resembling prey who knew the predator was coming. “Wha-What are you doing?”
“What does it look like, krásna?” Daemon grabbed Sy’s ankle and jerked the man down until Sy was lying flat on his back in the middle of the platform bed.
No, they would have to do the whole ten minutes—maybe even thirty. It would be a travesty of justice if he skipped touching every inch of Sy’s gorgeous body.
As his eyes drifted over Sy and he had his answer about the lounge pants. Except for a tiny triangle of darker fabric that barely covered Sy’s groin, the pants were almost totally transparent. Daemon's breathing became shallow as he stroked his hand over Sy’s ankle right where the lounge pants ended. The pads of his thumbs made tiny circles as he watched Sy's reaction to his touch.
“Your skin is very soft.
“M-My skin has to be for work.”
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Daemon had to taste.
Daemon slid his fingers up Sy’s leg until the sheer fabric was pushed aside, and then leaned down to drag his tongue across the salty flesh, the taste going straight to his head.
Sy jumped, his leg jerking in Daemon’s grip. Daemon tightened his hand as he bit down gently, not enough to break skin, but enough to raise goose bumps on Sy's leg. He slowly licked where he'd bitten Sy, his tongue tracing circles as the siren shivered. His eyes turned to liquid pools of heated gold as he gazed down at Daemon.
Licking Sy was like immersing himself in addictive sweetness.
“Dae-Daemon.” Sy’s voice stuttered, breathless.
“Yes, krásna?
Sy shuddered when Daemon licked another patch of skin, and then another, inhaling as he dined on the man. With each bit of skin that Daemon ran his tongue over, Sy’s resistance became less and less until the beautiful siren was pushing toward him instead of pulling away.
That's right, sexy. Let me have you.
“We…” Sy licked his lips until they glistened. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
The side of Daemon's mouth twisted into a grin, mirroring the perverse amusement brought on by Sy’s attempt at stopping the blazing inferno igniting between them. “We should definitely do this.”

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