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Taboo Kisses
Copyright © 2013 by Gracen Miller
Cover art by Andrea Kozari
Edited by Amanda Wimer
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Gracen Miller
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www.gracen-miller.com
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TABOO KISSES
By
GRACEN MILLER
Reviews for Taboo Kisses
“Hot and steamy, brought my wild side out!” ~ Shalisha Cooper
“Author Gracen Miller has created a sexy, hot yet taboo world that will have you craving permission to enter and begging to stay.” ~ Mindy Janicke, Forbidden Reviews
“With toe-curling, orgasmic screams of pleasure, the ecstasy achieved in Taboo Kisses is a SUPERNOVA of scorching hot sexiness.” ~ Kathryn Grimes, Tsk Tsk What to Read
“Another great paranormal story from Gracen Miller! She does paranormal the right way! Taboo Kisses is mind-blowingly sexy from start to finish! It’s fun, kinky, and has an interesting and unique plot! Forget 50 Shades! Pick this one up instead!” ~ Kristina Haecker, Kristina’s Books and More
What the Critics are Saying About Other Gracen Miller Books…
“Blows J.R. Ward out of the water!” ~ Dawn Hagan, I Love Books
“What a ride! Gracen Miller delivers an outstanding first book [Pandora’s Box] of the Road to Hell series.” ~ Mary Smith, Book Nerds Across America
“Top pick all the way!! Hell's Phoenix is a must read.” ~ Tanna Heitz, Bitten by Love Reviews
“Hell's Phoenix was just amazing! Again Gracen blew my mind with her wickedly awesome writing skills. The emotions that the characters go through are written in such a way that the reader experiences it in full.” ~ Tich Brewster, Loves All Things Books
“Wow!! Another fantastic book by Gracen Miller that has blown me away!! From start to finish, Hell's Phoenix demands that you devour each and every page. The emotions that you feel for these characters will be a rollercoaster ride and when you are finished you will feel like you have just run a marathon.” ~ Kathryn Grimes, Tsk Tsk What to Read
“The description of Hell was creepy but awesome. I'm sure I wouldn't go there willingly if there wasn't a Micah... This book contains several breathtaking scenes, maybe sometimes you will even cry -I almost did and I never cry!! And good news for adrenaline junkies, there is absolutely no lack of action in this book.” ~ Andrea Kozári, The Secret Sanctuary of Books
“Genesis Queen will not disappoint! Wow just wow!” ~ Steph, Starry Night Book Review
“[L]et me just say this about Genesis Queen........awesome, amazing and perfection!! Of all the books in the series this one is my favorite.” ~ Mary Smith, Book Nerds Across America
~Dedication~
To my husband, Mark, who asked me to write him something kinky. Hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. As always, I love you more!
Nichelle Gregory, thanks for your support and friendship. And our wicked chats.
Thanks to my betas for helping me work magic…Andrea Kozari, Kathryn Vanessa Grimes, Bridgette Dodson, Kristina Haecker, Kelly Silva Fine, Christina Baker Irelan, Shalisha Cooper, and Mindy Janicke.
Chapter One
“I want her alive!” Tyron Gryphon slammed his fist down on his desk, rattling the pens and disturbing the paper.
Maximus elevated an eyebrow, fighting back the surge of his vampyr fangs. Beside him, his mate, Gabriel, a tiger-shifter tensed. The multi-billionaire sitting across from them was a brat cloaked in the body of an adult. Getting his desires one too many times, led him to the erroneous conclusion Maximus and Gabriel would do his bidding out of fear or dominance. A huge miscalculation on the drama-king’s part.
Gabriel tossed the dossier on Gryphon’s desk. “What do you want with her?”
Maximus studied the woman in the black and white photo he’d retained from the file. Dark hair, petite build, and eyes an indeterminate shade in the monochrome picture.
Sameya. No surname. Not even a last known address. Scant facts in the folder, nine pages total, easy to memorize all of the material. Five-three, one hundred five pounds, she’d be itty-bity up against his six-foot-five stature. He preferred diminutive women, favored how tiny they were against him.
Sandwich her between him and Gabriel, and they’d govern her physically and literally. Sliding into her simultaneously…his balls clenched and his gut cramped at the idea. Amazing how a single photograph induced such fantasies. Even more remarkable because he wasn’t the woolgathering type. He possessed more of a proactive type of personality.
Gryphon paced behind his desk, the two huge windows at his back like judging glassy eyes. “She’s a siren.”
Maximus bit his tongue to massacre the laugh that hit the back of his throat. What a gibberish declaration.
“Bullshit,” Maximus blurted before he engaged the filter from his brain to his mouth. That quirky sieve often gave him fits.
“What Maximus means is sirens are believed to be extinct, have been for centuries.” Gabriel adjusted to the edge of his seat, back ramrod straight, while Maximus slouched and tapped the photograph against his leg, considering the agitated male. “You expect us to believe you’ve located one?” Gabriel continued, snatching Maximus from his thoughts.
“Not just located one, but spent time with her. She dated my son.” Gryphon fisted his right hand. Did he contemplate choking the little siren? Maximus wanted his hand around her throat while he held her down and drove into her body. Balls-deep, pounding into her soft flesh until her eyes crossed and they both came in an orgasm so blinding it took them hours to recover.
Gabriel flicked him a glance, a cagey expression in his golden eyes. “If this is true, how could you not sense what she is?”
Being a griffin, Tyron Gryphon was a powerful enough creature to have recognized what she was from the get-go. If he spoke true, then the woman in the photo was of countless age, and her power most likely dwarfed everyone in the mortal realm. Including the griffin.
“I have no idea.” Gryphon ran his hand down his face. “The only conclusion is that she’s a timerelic.”
Maximus notched a hank of shoulder length brown hair behind his ear. “All timerelics are deceased.” True relics that transcended the ages were a myth. Or so his great grandfather decreed and that old man had departed Atlantis when the city was hidden. However, nothing said one of the ancients
couldn’t escape their notice. But why would a timerelic appear now? Leave the safety of Atlantis? “You’re mistaken. Sirens no longer exist.”
If they remained, why weren’t they eliminating the criminals as they had in the past? Instead, that’d become his and Gabriel’s job.
Gryphon slammed his fist on the table again. Weary of the theatrics, Maximus rose to his feet, as their would-be employer said, “She turned my son into a babbling fool. That is clear evidence of a siren.”
“How are we to know he wasn’t a babbling fool before she showed up?”
“Maximus.” Gabriel sent him a cautious peek.
“Gabriel, I’ve had enough of this fucker’s bullshit.” From the corner of his eye, he caught the silent gasp that froze on Gryphon’s face. Honor wasn’t typically questioned among the various paranormal breeds. “Sirens are extinct. End of story. He wants this bitch for another reason he’s not sharing. And I don’t work for liars.”
What would Gryphon do if I tossed Sameya on his desk and fucked her while he watched?
Enough with the daydreams already.
“I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
Maximus laughed. Of course Gryphon would cough up an obscene amount of cash if they agreed to bounty-hunt for him. That had never been open for discussion. He and Gabriel were the best trackers in the paranormal community. It wasn’t about the money, though. The idea of this jowly, beady-eyed motherfucker getting his claws on Sameya-possible-siren made Maximus irrational. Had him itching to beat the arrogant bastard into a pulp for simply thinking of her.
“You’ll tell us precisely why you want her. The truth this time.” Maximus took a page out of Gryphon’s book and slammed his fist on the desk, taking perverse delight in rattling the pen cup off the wood-top and onto the floor. “Or we walk. Right now.”
And I locate her for my own needs. Best goddamn idea yet!
Gryphon paused, studying Maximus in silence. Most in the supernatural community maintained a safe zone from vampyrs. Even the griffins, that outclassed other creatures, elected to avoid his species.
Gabriel rose beside him, retrieved a card from the breast pocket of his jacket. “This is the figure we’d expect if we agree to locate the alleged siren.” Using a gold pen he’d snagged from the same pocket, Gabriel scribbled on the backside of the business card. He flicked the high-grade, cotton square at Gryphon. “Non-negotiable price. Neither is it a guarantee to hand her over to you once we catch her.” Because they would find her. “Once we verify her race and guilt, then she’s yours. If we determine otherwise….”
Gryphon looked between the two of them, without sparing a glance at the obscene figure Gabriel had written on it. “You’re serious?”
“Very.” The hard edge to Gabriel’s voice left no doubt to his seriousness. “We don’t hand over anyone without proof of guilt.”
Maximus smirked. Take that and shove it up your ass, you prick.
“I’ll find another to meet my needs.” Gryphon made a go-away motion with his hand.
Gabriel buttoned his suit jacket. “Good luck.”
Tracking a siren—if that’s what she really was—would require more than luck.
Maximus and Gabriel exited the office without speaking. Not until they climbed into Gabriel’s black Spyder did they engage in conversation. His partner started the ignition, shifted into reverse, and smoothly backed out of the parking spot.
Maximus waited until they hit the interstate before saying, “We’re going after her.”
Gabriel got heavy footed with the pedal. “I hope you took the time to memorize her file?”
“Fuck you.” Of course he had, and Gabriel knew it.
His partner chuckled and threw him a wink. “Anytime, lover.”
Chapter Two
The clicks of Sameya’s knee-high black, dragon skinned boots hitting the pavement were drowned out by the revelry on Bourbon Street. Gah…mortals. Loud and obnoxious. The useless infantile creatures were a pestilence upon the earth. Since exiting Atlantis, she’d culled many murderers, abusers, pedophiles, and rapists from humanity’s numbers. They should give her a medal for the favors she performed.
The best of her species at fact-gathering, she’d left her Empress in the safety of a trusted few and set out to uncover the terrorist in their midst. Thoughts gleaned from a mystic inside Atlantis revealed the source within worked in tangent with a mystic outside the hidden city’s realm. She couldn’t figure out what the non-Atlantian would gain from assassinating their Empress, not unless he was promised entrance into Atlantis. Over her dead fucking body—
A sharp whistle snatched her head around, and her gaze connected with a brown-haired frat boy. Drunk and noisy, his stride wobbly, and his leer detestable. “Holy gawd almighty!” he slurred, and she could smell his liquor-laced breath from ten feet away. “You’re the hottest babe I ever done seen.”
Atrocious English. Imbecile. “Do you know what I am?”
“Fallen angel for fuckin’ sure.”
His buddy slapped him on the chest and chortled, making a fool of himself. “Hopefully, the demon in our bed later?”
New age mankind was as alien to her as the elusive orgasm. When she’d gone into hiding in Atlantis over seven millennia ago, she was the stuff mothers frightened their children with. She’d entered a new world where mortals believed her a myth. How could she garner respect like this?
“Fuck off.”
Moody, she would take his head off rather than ingest his soul if he were rash enough to come after her. She kicked a bottle with her booted toe. It struck the shin of a tourist and he went down hard, clutching his leg.
Oops.
She probably broke a bone.
Sameya halted her steps and pondered at the unassuming establishment located on Bourbon Street. Dirty Liquor. The windows were boarded up as if the proprietor prepared for a hurricane. The scarred door unadorned, the neon light above the entrance the only indication it was open for business. Bold, red power seeped from the building. Tangible evidence a mystic owned the pub. Lots of mojo going on here. Best guess, once inside it’d null the magic of other paranormals, which would make it easier to manage a rowdy group, especially if a magical creature were involved. But this enchantment was not strong enough to affect hers. Hadn’t found a species yet that could micromanage her magic, with the exception of a vampyr and none of them resided in Atlantis.
Intel suggested her target would be here tonight. Itching to get back to Atlantis, she wanted to get this over with.
Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she pushed the door open and sauntered in, rolling her hips. The buttery soft, snug Basilisk hide pants showcased her ass. Not that her attributes were required when she hunted because she could lure a man with just her enchantment, but her appearance facilitated the chase.
The beat of the music overpowered her hearing until she adjusted her magical volume meter to a tolerable level. Heated stares skimmed her body while she made her way to the bartender. It was early, so the establishment wasn’t as crowded as it would be later tonight. The revelry was already at a hearty swing, and the dance floor sported an impressive contingent of ladies with a few men. A high-polished, walnut-wood bar hosted less than a dozen patrons.
Sameya slid in-between two males and leaned across the bar. “Whiskey. Neat. The best you have.”
Not that she intended to drink her order. One sip of liquor and she’d be wasted, all magic neutralized. She had a strict policy against vulnerability.
“I’m Gabriel.” The man on her right leaned a little closer, so near she could discern the minty scent of his breath.
Usually her intimidating otherworld vibe was enough to keep the humans back, even if they failed to comprehend why her diminutive stature came across so menacing.
Not sparing a glance in the male’s direction, she said, “Not interested.”
“Of course you’re not, syreen.”
The Atlantian term for her race. Sameya’s attention snatched
about. A slight grin hit the corners of the fair-haired, drop-dead gorgeous man. A mystic. Like her…but not similar in many other ways. Cultured, but with a more humanized flair. Probably born in this mortal world rather than from Atlantis. Some mystics had chosen to remain among the humans when they shielded their land. But she couldn’t pinpoint his exact race.
He ran his fingertip along the rim of his glass, lifted the goblet, and drained the liquor in one gulp. “What are you hunting?”
Syn. The only thing she hunted.
Guarded, she tried to play it cool. “I imagine, the same as you.”
“I don’t hunt.”
Elevating her eyebrows, she called him on his lie with only her expression. Dressed like he owned half the world in a charcoal gray suit and baby-blue cravat…the man definitely pursued something. If nothing more than a willing but fast fuck.
His appearance was remarkable, handsome, with dark-blond, spiky hair. She was curious how many had been granted the privilege of running their fingers through it during coupling. His golden yellow eyes assessed her coolly, and they could not be mistaken for human. Clean shaven square jaw. Expensive clothing stretched across broad shoulders, hinted at power that had nothing to do with magic. It was the feral presence he exuded that suggested beneath the refined attire he was deadly. Could strike with the least amount of provocation with lethal accuracy, no hesitation and no remorse.
“Where you from, little lady?” The bald bartender set a glass of whiskey in front of her.
“Far away.” Sameya two-fingered the glass and sloshed the liquor in a circular motion, eyeing…Gabriel.
“Never heard your accent before,” the barkeep persisted.
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