The Sextet Presents... Bound by Voodoo [Legends] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Legends

The Sextet Presents… Bound by Voodoo

Fantasies abound when sex therapist Aurora Bond receives a gift of four anatomically correct dolls from a voodoo priestess. Preferring to have all three of her handsome building mates rather than choosing only one, she uses the dolls to her advantage. Her suspicion that two of the men are already involved sends her imagination soaring to places even her kinkiest clients haven’t ventured.

Winston DeLong and Miles Parrish have an uncommitted sexual relationship, and Winston wants more. When Miles leaves him high and dry, he turns to the new guy in the building.

Aurora’s former high school classmate Barrett Cunningham has barely acknowledged his bisexuality when Winston makes an offer he can’t refuse. His desires go beyond experimentation, but he’ll have to convince Winston and Miles to reunite before they can all share Aurora. When the men discover the voodoo dolls, they use them to ensure a happy ending for all.

Genre:
Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal

Length:
31,284 words
 

BOUND BY VOODOO

Legends

Mellanie Szereto

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

THE SEXTET PRESENTS… BOUND BY VOODOO

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62241-806-0

First E-book Publication: November 2012

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of
 
The Sextet Presents… Bound by Voodoo
 
by Mellanie Szereto from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

This is Mellanie Szereto’s livelihood.
 
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Szereto’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

This story is dedicated to my late mother-in-law. She was a wonderful lady who died too young. Like Barrett, my husband is affected every day by the loss of his mom. **Sending hugs to all my readers who know this feeling**

THE SEXTET PRESENTS…

BOUND BY VOODOO

Legends

MELLANIE SZERETO

Copyright © 2012

Eyeing the facedown card, Aurora Bond concentrated on keeping a straight face. Her cheek already stung from biting the inside of it for the past five minutes. One tell, and she could lose the hand, her dignity, and every last penny she’d added to her rainy-day fund in the past three months.

She almost snorted.

This hand is mine.

The chance at a few extra bucks meant little after winning the last three hands. Exaggeration and melodrama were strangers to her list of behaviors—except when she had to convince her confident brain to tone down its arrogance.

If he folds, I still win.

The biker stared at her for several long moments, his gaze sending her stomach tumbling to her knees. He was going to be pissed about losing again. Then he glanced down at his cards and back up. A handful of chips clacked onto the mound in the middle of the table, the jaw of the skull tattoo on his forearm flexing in a mocking silent laugh. “Call.”

Eyebrows rose and grins broadened around the perimeter of the playing field. Evidently, those who’d folded this hand thought Felix had her beat. He should’ve, considering the ace, king, queen, and jack laying faceup in front of him. Sure, they were a mix of red and black, but with the cockiness he’d shown while betting, the chances of him having a ten were good. The third had played out in the last hand.

Giving a nod, Aurora added her bet to the pot. “Let’s see what you got.”

He flipped over a four, an eight, and a ten. “That’s a straight, darlin’.”

Her teeth ached from the tension in her jaw, and she frowned. “I really hate being called
darlin’
. And I know what a straight looks like.”

She turned over a hidden two of hearts to go with the jack, seven, and five of spades and the two of diamonds.

Felix laughed. “A pair of twos?”

Another snap against the table revealed the five of hearts.

He shook his head. “Sorry, honey, but a straight beats two pair.”

Toying with the last card, she sighed. “Yes, I know,
sweetie pie
. And another five makes a full house—which beats a straight.”

His gaping mouth and wide eyes morphed into a scowl. “No fucking way.”

“Ya be watchin’ yer language, or ya won’t be welcome here no more.” A piercing stare came from the old woman in the corner. She’d almost disappeared into the shadows with her quiet demeanor, black shawl, and latté-colored skin.

His chair scraped against the floor as he rose, his eyes flitting to his friends. “Sorry, Miz Deschamps. Didn’t mean to offend you.”

He handed her a fistful of bills on his way to the exit. The room cleared behind him.

“Smart ya be with da numbers, girlie, but ya best use yer head when dealin’ with da likes o’ what comes in here.” Crooking her finger, the old woman shuffled from the card room down the hall toward the bar. “Follow me. What be yer name?”

Aurora scooped her winnings into her tote bag before hurrying after the owner of the tavern. “Aurora, but most people call me Rory.”

Her guide made a quick left turn into a small office. “Ah, a bright ray o’ light. Ya give a gift to da world, and now ya get a gift in return.”

Actually, my bank account will get a gift.

Rory dug a handful of chips at a time from her bag. “My friends tell me my personality glows in the dark. I haven’t decided if that’s a good thing or not.”

Stepping behind the desk, Ms. Deschamps withdrew a key on a chain from the front of her flowing dress. “’S good so long as ya be true to yerself.”

Rory searched the bottom of her tote as she barked a laugh and then began stacking the chips in piles of ten. “Oh, I’m true to myself all right. The problem I have is finding a
guy
who’ll be true to me—especially after he finds out I’m sarcastic and I don’t take crap from anybody. And I tend to forget to keep my mouth shut sometimes.”

With the last of chips piled, the old woman counted out Rory’s winnings. “Nine hundred eighty dollars.”

The butterflies in Rory’s stomach did a happy dance. “That’d buy a lot of vibrators. Um, I guess I should tell you I’m a sex therapist. I’m in New Orleans for a convention.”

“Da gift I have will not seem odd to ya den.” Ms. Deschamps opened a storage cabinet, the door blocking Rory’s view of its contents. After several moments of unintelligible murmuring, the old woman emerged with a sack tied closed at the top. “Don’t look inside ’til ya get back to yer room. ’Twill help ya decide who to trust wit’ yer heart.”

Taking the bag, Rory nodded and slid the package into her tote bag. She tucked the wad of bills between her too-large breasts. Maybe she ought to spend the money on reduction surgery instead of sex toys. Men might take her more seriously if they weren’t so busy staring at her boobs while she handed out samples of sexual aids.

“Keep yer mind and heart open, and ya will find happiness, Aurora.” The old woman’s eyes seemed to see past Rory’s poker face to the skepticism beneath. “More love awaits ya than ya could ever imagine.”

A man loving Rory Bond with all his heart and soul? She wasn’t about to hold her breath. With a shrug, she handed Ms. Deschamps a twenty to cover two root beers and a generous tip. “Thanks for letting me sit in on the game tonight. And for the gift.”

“Ya don’t believe. But ya will.”

Rory hurried from the office before she gave in to the urge to shudder from the creepy-crawlies wiggling up her spine. She’d heard about the superstitions mixed with religion in parts of southern Louisiana. That didn’t mean she bought the weird stories or put any stock in hexes. Voodoo was nothing more than people subconsciously making events happen because they expected them to unfold that way.

It’s just a bunch of hocus-pocus.

Weaving across the crowded bar, she aimed for the exit. Every pair of eyes that turned to look at her sent another ripple of prickles over her skin. By the time she finally reached the sidewalk outside the tavern, the disconcerting feeling had settled in her stomach.

Man, I’m glad I didn’t come down here after dark.

She took a deep breath and set off for the hotel. Each step away from the bar should’ve eased her nervous tension, but she couldn’t shake the case of heebie-jeebies. Glancing down, she stepped over a seam in the sidewalk, and then another and another.