Wicked Intentions

Tuesday Morrigan

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Art gallery owner Olivia Baxter knew she wanted the Boys from Brazil the moment she saw them. Too bad the infamous artists only had eyes for each other. When a randomly placed piece of mistletoe gives her the chance to kiss bot...
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Art gallery owner Olivia Baxter knew she wanted the Boys from Brazil the moment she saw them. Too bad the infamous artists only had eyes for each other.

When a randomly placed piece of mistletoe gives her the chance to kiss both men, she experiences desire like never before. Dangerous desire. She pushes it away, knowing that she, a woman, is not what either man could ever want.

But the Boys from Brazil have wicked intentions about their Libby. She will make the third side to their lovely triangle and they plan on making sure she starts of the New Year with a very satisfying bang.

  • Note:This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Male/male sexual practices, menage (m/m/f), mild bondage.
Olivia stood in the enclave, surrounded by the lush greenery. She took a deep breath and drank in the rich scent of evergreens, crisp air, and hot determination. Or was that desire? She pushed aside the wayward thought as she took a slow, menacing step to her left, foot digging into the dirt with careful calculation. She could not let her prey know she was hunting them until she was ready. She made her way around the building’s perimeter and found the dirt-streaked glass window she’d unlatched earlier.

It was nearly twenty feet above her head.

A cool burst of northeastern wind blew over her. Her preternatural abilities forced her to feel the cold more. It also gave her the strength to handle the blinding bluster with a simple blink of her eyes. The window groaned, losing its battle with the strong gust, and swung back and forth.

An eerie stream of fluorescent moonlight surrounded her and for one second, just one, she closed her eyes and drank in the quiet of the night. Her eyes opened as her canines descended with knowledge of the coming battle, and her nails lengthened, becoming talons. A mere second later she jumped through the softly swinging glass portal. The claws she’d used to climb the brick wall were still unsheathed when her feet landed on the concrete. In the darker than night building, her vampiric eyes saw what humans could not. Her gaze took in the endless row of boxes carrying the latest high priced entertainment products, the dust mites that fluttered through the air, and the tall, broad, naked back of the werewolf who calmly strode through the aisles, clipboard in hand.

Her werewolf rat had been right on the money. The pack was getting ready to move all the illegally purchased electronics in their possession out of the area. If she had waited one more night she would have been shit out of luck.

And even though the air of urgency was around her, Olivia stood for a moment, taking in the beauty of his golden flesh, gleaming with sweat, smeared with dirt. He turned and peered at the words written on one of the boxes and she caught a whiff of musk and sandalwood. Passion pooled in her gut and moisture dampened her panties. And it wasn’t the passion for the hunt.

She tried to tell herself it was blood passion that swam inside her veins. But even the allure of drinking from another preternatural being, a werewolf, could not explain the depths of her desire.

She took a step forward, but too late she realized the werewolf in front of her wasn’t the only male in the building. She hadn’t scented him because he exuded the same perfume of the man in front of her. She’d been tricked. It was her last thought as something pierced her carotid artery and sleep chased her into a murky darkness that promised oblivion.

Olivia woke the moment the ice cold water hit her skin, drowning her in the frigid pain as every inch of her flesh shrieked out in outrage. With a jolt she realized they had removed her first layer of clothing. She sat in front of the two werewolves wearing only her bra and panties. She glared up at the darker of the two, the one still holding the pail. “Werewolf scum, if you tell me where you hid the treasures you stole, I won’t skin you alive.”

Before striding over to her, he slowly reached up and placed the empty pail on top of one of the many boxes crowding in on them. He stopped several feet way from her. Still, she tried to kick out and take out one, maybe even both, testicles. She growled low and deep, a ferocious sound more fitting one of his kind, when she found her leg wouldn’t move despite the fact she’d put all her strength into the act.

His gaze caught hers. The mirth swimming in his soft, velvety brown eyes rocked her to the core. She lunged at him, pushing her whole body toward the grinning bastard. And didn’t move an inch.

“Our scientists have been working on this for weeks now. We tested it out on our strongest males. Consider yourself lucky, vampiress. You are the first field test.”

Understanding slammed through her even though she kept her face free of all emotions. She was bound, helpless, and at the mercy of the very werewolf males she had been sent to kill.

“Kill me now and save us all the time. I will not tell you what you want to know.”

The second man, the taller of the two, moved forward, standing closer to her than his counterpart had dared. “Why would we want to kill you, lovely Libby, when we’ve got such wicked plans for that voluptuous body of yours?”

Her tongue thickened as her blood became molten lava. “A fate worse than death,” she said through clenched teeth.

The first man, the Alpha, moved forward. “You mistake us for cubs, Olivia. We know the scent of a female’s desire. You will beg us, Olivia, but not for death or even for your release. When we are done with you, you will come at our command. Then we will see who will talk about treasures stolen.”

One talon appeared directly in her gaze. The Alpha moved forward and she watched his every step. Her intentions must have been written on her face. She lunged toward him, canines descended, ready to rip his throat out, but the Beta held her by the hair.

Olivia wasn’t able to do anything more than watch as he tore the straps of her bra. The sodden, molded cups fell to reveal her aching breasts. She sucked in a deep breath when one sharp nail traced the circle of her dark, puckered areola. “Now, vampire wench, are you going to tell us what we want to know or…”

Ring. Ring. Riinnnnnnnnggggg!

Olivia’s eyes popped open in dismay even as she reached for the bedside phone. She’d dreamed of them again. As usual, she’d been caught totally off guard by the reverie. She’d stopped watching television late at night because of the dreams it had inspired. Romance novels had gone the way of late night television when she’d started dreaming about dukes, pirates, and dark haired sheiks. No matter their title or location, she always dreamed about the same two men.

Stupid books!

Now she could add paranormals to the list.

As she placed the phone to her ear she realized her other hand was between her thighs.

And it was coated with her cream.

Damn! She was getting worse.

If this kept up she was going to have to see a therapist.

Or worse…go on a date.

Copyright © Tuesday Morrigan


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