Siren Song

by A C Warneke

  SIREN SONG

  by

  A.C. Warneke

  Siren Song

  Copyright©2012 by Andrea Warneke

  All rights reserved

  ISBN: 1477407944

  ISBN-13: 978-1477407943

  ASIN: B0082OGOR4

  To friends and family both near and far; for those still here and those that have passed on. Words cannot express how much each of you means to me.

  ***

  To my sons who keep me humble by telling me I am like one of the seven dwarves only shorter and my daughter who tells me it is okay to be short, mainly because she'll always be shorter than me.. And 5' 3 3/4" is not that short.

  I love the three of you so much!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 (Friday)

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3 (Saturday)

  Chapter 4 (Monday)

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7 (Friday)

  Chapter 8 (Thursday)

  Chapter 9 (Thursday/Friday)

  Chapter 10 (Saturday)

  Chapter 11(Monday)

  Chapter 12 (Saturday)

  Chapter 13 (Friday)

  Chapter 14 (Friday Night)

  Chapter 15 (Saturday)

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17 (Monday)

  Chapter 18 (Thursday)

  Chapter 19 (Saturday)

  Chapter 20 (Saturday, a week later)

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1 (Friday)

  Glancing around the bar, Lexi Darling made note of the small camera crew setting up for the reality series of some up and coming young starlet. Lexi was hoping to be out of there before the chaos began, and with just a few more things to finish up, she was well on her way. Her scalp was starting to itch like mad beneath the long, platinum blond wig she was wearing but she refused to scratch; scratching would have ruined the effect. Instead she continued to smile widely as the bartender with sandy blond hair and warm brown eyes handed her the shot of tequila then held out his hand with the salt. With a heated look, he placed the lime wedge in his mouth and set the shot of tequila in front of her, smiling his familiar, devilish smile.

  With only the slightest hesitation, she licked the fleshy mound of skin between his thumb and forefinger than slammed the tequila. As soon as her mouth was empty, she leaned over the bar and sucked the lime into her mouth, getting a touch of bartender lips in the process.

  The crowd cheered as she sat back on the stool and laughed, “I need a chaser.”

  “Here ya go, my love,” the bartender grinned, setting a glass of lemon-lime soda down in front of her. His pectoral muscles flexed as he did so and nearly all of the females in the bar squealed their approval. “I’ll give you a moment before I take my shot.”

  “Thanks, Dima,” she smiled, her hazel-green eyes sparkling with amusement as she drained the sparkling soda. Glancing around the most popular bar in Minneapolis, she made a mental note of the cliental Skin attracted: lots of twenty-somethings, flashy, upper-middle class. Her own hooker-chic outfit, which had seemed a little bit on the risqué side when she put it on earlier, blended very nicely. In fact, with a short, leather skirt; sheer black thigh-high nylons; three-inch, platform-soled, leather knee-high boots; and a black bustier pushing up her breasts and baring her slender midriff, her outfit was almost tame. She might have to work on that a bit, maybe skipping the sheer black thigh highs next time.

  When she turned back, there was another shot of tequila in front of her and Dima was holding up a lime wedge. “You ready?”

  She smiled sultrily, parted her lips and leaned towards him. He put the lime between her lips, then returned her smile, upping the sex-quotient tenfold. Leaning forward, he licked her throat and as she took a sharp breath, he sprinkled salt on the wet spot. Tilting her head to the side, she studied him, the glimmer in his eyes as she took the lime out for a moment and asked him, “The cameras aren’t rolling yet, are they?”

  “Nah; they’re just setting up,” he grinned, pushing the lime back between her lips. Licking the salt from her skin, he took the tequila shot and then claimed her mouth. Oh, yeah – and the lime. The flavor of tequila was overwhelming, though she could still taste the sour lime. She almost smiled from the heat of Dima’s mouth as his tongue swirled around the citrus fruit. Once more, the crowd cheered the antics of the author of their favorite monthly column in lavish magazine, 'The Scene.'

  Lexi laughed and pushed away from his hard body. “Dima, you’re too much.”

  “You know you love me, Lexi,” he grinned, taking a drink of water from his own glass. Leaving the rest of his customers in the very capable hands of the other bartenders, he leaned across the bar and spoke softly so only she could hear, “Is there anything else I can do for you, love?”

  “I think I got everything I need,” she answered, winking at him as she reached into her small purse and turned the microphone off. “I’ll be sure to give your bar a glowing review.”

  “Make sure you emphasize how hot the bartenders are,” he grinned, flexing his biceps to highlight his point. And once again, the female patrons squealed in delight. “By the way, I like how you look as a blond; have you ever considered something more permanent than a wig?”

  “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Do you know how expensive upkeep is on blond? I much prefer going this route.”

  “Well, I appreciate the effort,” he shrugged, taking her glass and refilling it.

  “You know, Dima, it looks like business is already amazing,” she said, glancing around at the exuberant crowd once more. The music was thumping in the background and there were plenty of people on the dance floor, as well as crowding around the tables, just hanging out. Add in the extra exposure from the reality show, and Skin was going to be the hottest place to be for a very long time. “You really don’t need me to mention you or your club in my column.”

  “Don’t even say that,” he rumbled. “Besides, you owe me – all of those nights I helped you cram for finals, the myriad number of pizzas I helped you eat; Cancun….”

  “Nyuh uh,” she interrupted, holding up her hand and forestalling any further grievances. “I seem to recall a fair number of mutual cramming sessions. As for the pizzas and Cancun,” her lips curved upwards in a smile at the memory. “Well….”

  “Fine,” he conceded. Crossing his arms on the counter, he leaned in and offered her his heart breaking smile that she adored, no matter how many times she was on the receiving end. Dima was a very good-looking man with his warm brown eyes and sandy blond hair and perfect swimmer’s body. But when he smiled he was almost too attractive and he knew it. He used his looks to his advantage, hiding his intelligence with his dimples and charm, preferring to be underestimated by women and rivals alike. “Then do it because I’m your best friend.”

  “Low blow, Dima,” she paused only a moment before she shook her head and smiled, standing up to leave. “It’s not like you need my little blurb – these cameras are going to give you all of the media attention you could ask for.”

  “That’s in like two hours, when her entourage finally arrives,” he said. Lowering his voice, he added, “If the cast arrives; I’m not holding my breath.”

  “They would be fools not to show up – your club is awesome; and the bartenders are sexy as hell,” she grinned. As he continued to frown, she exhaled dramatically, her eyes dancing, “You know I will include your club.”

  “Thank you,” he beamed, looking out over the crowd, obviously pleased with the turn out. He should be; he worked like the very devil to make Skin the place to see and be seen.

  “I’ve got to get going so I can catch a cab.”

  “Stay and we’ll go home together when I get off,” he offered, mixing drinks as their chat
ter turned to more mundane topics.

  “I need to get home sometime this evening so I can start on my article; with the show being shot, it’s going to be forever before you can get out and give me a ride,” she smiled at her friend, while gathering up her stuff. “And if you plan on bringing someone home, please keep it down; I want to get up early tomorrow and maybe head in to the office for a few hours before meeting the family at the club in the afternoon.”

  “It’s Saturday tomorrow; why would you want to waste any of it at the office?” Dima asked with a disgruntled expression, letting her know exactly how he felt about her going into work on a Saturday.

  Lexi shrugged, “Jeffrey sold the paper and I want to get all of my stuff in order to impress the new boss. Or to update my resume so I can find another magazine to work at.”

  “If the bastard fires you should come work here.”

  Lexi made a face, “You know that will never happen; Skin is where I go if I want to escape my sisters' attempts to pry into my life; if I worked here...."

  Feeling a change in the air, Lexi abruptly stopped talking and twisted around to see what could have caused it. She very nearly spontaneously combusted when she saw Him. It was an unfamiliar, and slightly terrifying, reaction for her to have towards anyone, especially a stranger. Usually she enjoyed admiring from afar with a cool detachment; that wasn't possible in this case.

  One thought crowded out all of the others: this man was a warrior, sleek, strong, powerful and a little bit dangerous. And virile. Definitely virile. His mere presence was playing havoc with her hormones from across the room; there was no telling what he would do to her up close and personal. A delicious shiver went down her spine at the thought.

  From where she stood, she appreciated the way he wore his clothes, wondering how he would look out of them. He was very well-dressed; very expensively dressed, in a dark, Italian suit, with a white shirt; the whiteness emphasizing his golden skin. Her fingers curled into her palm at the thought of touching that carved jaw, those lush lips. And she saw that those lips were set in a firm line as he surveyed the room with piercing eyes, not missing a thing. He looked like he was checking the space out for danger except he was the most dangerous thing there.

  The wool-clad warrior was a devastatingly handsome man, with a sculpted face: a strong jaw, high cheek bones and a straight nose, softened only by lips that were made for sin, lush and wicked. His raven black hair was short but long enough to drag her fingers through. It was also perfect without a single strand out of place. She had the strangest urge to walk up to him and just muss it up a bit. She could imagine him with tousled hair, looking down at her with that intense gaze as he moved over her…. Whoa, too far; she told herself to rein in the lustful thoughts and just admire.

  “You’re drooling, Lexi,” Dima whispered in her ear.

  “I am not,” she shot back, surreptitiously wiping at the corners of her mouth making Dima laugh. Leaning back, keeping her eyes on the new-comer, she asked, “Who do you think he is?”

  “I don’t care who he is,” Dima breathed into her ear, his attention diverted as well. “Who’s the red head he’s with?”

  Lexi turned her head slightly and saw the pretty, little red head hanging on the god’s arm, a sultry smile playing about her lips as she looked around the crowded bar. She said something and the dark warrior bent his head to hear her and a rush of desire crashed through Lexi’s body at the move. “Do you think they’re together?”

  “God I hope not,” Dima murmured.

  “Look at them, Dima; they are so very comfortable with one another,” Lexi said, holding out her arm in the man’s direction. “They’re probably together; their bodies move together as if they are intimately familiar. And they both reek of wealth and prestige, like they belong at the country club and not in a bar like this; she should be drinking a Manhattan and I think his preferred drink would be a martini….”

  “Shaken, not stirred,” Dima finished in a quasi-British accent, causing them both to laugh.

  “Stop that,” Lexi grinned, swatting at his arm and hitting air, her eyes never leaving the man. She tilted her head to the side in thoughtful contemplation; he was magnetic and she was mesmerized. Her lips curled upwards in an appreciative smile as he helped the red head out of her coat, setting it on the back of her chair as he held it out for her. “Nice. Do you think he might like blond?”

  “I like blond,” Dima countered absently. "Brunette, black... but I think tonight I prefer red."

  After a moment of silence, he leaned across the bar and asked, “So, do we take a divide and conquer approach so I can have the red head and you can have the man she’s with?”

  Lexi frowned, “I don’t think so; he’s for looking and not touching.”

  “But she’s for touching,” Dima purred, his breath moving across Lexi’s bare shoulder. “Snag his attention so I can make a move on the girl.”

  “You’re a sick bastard,” Lexi teased, enjoying the view as the man remained standing, looking around the bar with a certain arrogance she found appealing. The man was very much a ‘look but don’t touch’ and Lexi needed to leave before she gave in to the impulse to touch, knowing she’d want so much more if she touched; she'd want it all. Tearing her gaze away from the perfection-incarnate, she faced Dima with a frown, “I’ve really got to go.”

  “Here,” he said, pulling out two fresh shot glasses and filling them with the foul-tasting tequila. “Do one more shot with me before you go.”

  “Why? I’m already a little buzzed; one more and I’ll be worthless.”

  “I need the courage so I can steal Red away from the big bad wolf.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out, a low, painful groan emanating from the back of her throat as she narrowed her eyes and glared at the two glasses. “Fine.”

  “That’s my girl,” he grinned, sprinkling salt on his hand once again and holding it to her mouth.

  She held his gaze as she slid her tongue over his flesh, seeing the flash of dark humor in his eyes as she did so. She really hated tequila and if she was smart, she'd have refused the last shot. But she needed something to fortify her resolve to not touch. With a little whimper, she took the tequila and slammed it, quickly taking the lime from Dima’s mouth. With a shudder, she wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, “God, that’s disgusting.”

  Dima laughed, “My turn.”

  Grumbling under her breath, Lexi took the salt and sprinkled it on her hand and held it in front of Dima’s mouth. He simply smiled at her and shook his head, “Nyuh uh.”

  “Dima,” she protested, though it was ignored as he leaned forward and licked the curve of her neck and poured the salt there. With another sigh, she put the lime in her mouth then tilted her head to the side as he nibbled her skin before drinking his tequila. This time when he captured the lime, he took his time, grabbing her shoulders and holding her in place as he moved his mouth over hers, as he prolonged the kiss. Lexi twisted her head away and chuckled, “Dima.”

  “Pardon me,” a luscious, utterly masculine voice murmured from behind her.

  Lexi flattened her hands against Dima’s chest and pushed, breaking the lime-kiss and stumbling backwards into a solid wall of muscle belonging to the man standing behind her. Heat enveloped her body and her flesh started to hum. Without seeing him, she knew that it was the warrior-stranger and the laughter quickly faded away, replaced by sexual awareness. Her eyes slid shut until she became aware of Dima softly chuckling and she came crashing back to reality. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at her friend, though her smile softened the look, “Dickhead.”

  But then warm hands wrapped around her bare arms to steady her and the rest of the world simply vanished. She felt like a cat, needing to rub her body against his, wanting to have him stroke her. Relishing in the strength of the stranger, his scent filled her nostrils, clean and male with no artificial odors. There was something wild about his scent, as if he spent his nights running naked through t
he woods. Heat burned through her as she pictured him in her head, standing beneath the bright moon in all of his naked magnificence, his piercing eyes holding her in place as she….

  “Pardon me,” the masculine voice came again and the solid wall rumbled against her back. She realized that she was still pressed up against him, that his hands were still holding her. And she didn’t want to move; she just wanted to stay there and continue experiencing the loveliest sensation she’d ever known.

  Lexi returned from her brief sojourn to fantasy world and jumped, turning around as she did so. The gorgeous man truly was standing there, looking down at her with the most intense silver eyes she had ever seen. Her tongue lost its ability to move and she was unable to articulate a single thought as her knees decided to disappear and she fell against the bar. Even wearing three inch heels, she only reached his chin, making him 6’2, maybe 6’3; and he was solid; steel and sinew, bone and muscle. And all she could do was stare at the pagan god come to life and try to find her tongue, maybe remember how to speak.

  He was even more striking up close and personal; and having been pressed up against him, she knew his body was honed to absolute perfection. And whatever he was doing, her body was definitely responding. The reactions that were strong when her back was towards him became nearly unbearable. His eyes seemed to burn right into her, sending chills along her skin and making her stomach flip over. Even her nipples tightened into two hard buds and her belly began to buzz in anticipation. She wasn’t even going to consider the dampness between her thighs. No one ever elicited that type of response from her; and never a stranger. Maybe it was the tequila: yeah, that’s what she was going to tell herself anyway even if she knew it for the lie it was.