Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York)
Read Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York) Online
Authors: Jennifer James
Rock Hard And Wet
Nymphs of New York, Book One
By
Jennifer James
Copyright
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This book is a work of fiction.
The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used
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Published By: Unbuttoned Press
Rock Hard And Wet
© 2013 by Jennifer James
Edited by Rachel Firasek
Cover Art by Mina Carter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part
of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles
and reviews.
First Unbuttoned Press
publication September 2013
For
the Rachels:
Rachel Firasek, because you’re a
truly amazing friend and editor, but not only that: You’re a survivor who
inspires me to keep trying, even when I want to lie down and die. You put up
with my silly nicknames for you and even encourage my rabid plot bunnies. Love
you.
Rachel Evans, because you delight
me, understand the value of a good brainstorming session centered around
zombies and Shakespeare, and never think I’m weird when I quote
The Princess
Bride
or
Dr. Who
. Thank you for being my last reader. I’m sure X
would love to have you as tribute.
Rachie Hunt, because I adore the
crap outta you. You’re scary smart, don’t take shit, and go out of your way to
help your friends. I think you’re awesome, and Steve is a lucky mofo to get to
hang out with you every day.
Callie spun in a circle, her face tipped
up to catch the rain on her eyelashes and in her open mouth. The drops tasted
of chemicals and dirt, but she rolled the liquid on her tongue and caught the
pure essence of sunlight, open water, and the deep bedrock the water had cycled
through. A passing cab honked from a few feet away and yanked her from her
reverie.
New York City alternated between
delighting her with its massive buildings, multi-colored, flashing billboards,
the beauty of seeing so many different skin colors and languages blending together,
and then disgusting her with how completely filthy the city could be.
A huge sheet of dirty water splashed
toward her, but she directed it away with the flick of a wrist. Being a nymph
had some perks. Her affinity with water had matured from the time she’d been
bound to a single fresh water spring in an ancient Grecian forest.
She spun again, the cool rain drops
plastering her thin shirt and cotton gypsy skirt to her flesh. The joy of
freedom and the ability to wander in public wherever she wished heightened her
inbred sense of fun and spontaneity. The entire reason she’d taken advantage of
Poseidon’s decree momentarily disappeared from her mind.
Petra stopped her mid-turn with one hand
on her biceps. The rain stuttered to a stop, and Callie blew out her breath in
a long raspberry.
“Callie, you don’t have time for this.
Six hours have already been wasted.” Darn her sister-nymph and her crazy,
scientific notions about…well, everything.
Callie rolled her eyes and thumbed a
mustard smear from her sister’s chin. “Hey, the hot dogs were your idea, not
mine.” She gripped the other woman’s hands and squeezed them. “Come on, Petra.
Let your hair down. Just once, huh? We’re free. Mates or not, we’re in New
York, and we look young and hot. If nothing else, we’re bound to get laid.”
“With your nipples showing like that,
shouldn’t take you long at all,” Petra muttered. She tunneled her fingers
through her black hair, and even with the weak sunlight filtering in around the
buildings and through the clouds, purple-blue highlights showed in the strands.
“If all I wanted was to get laid, I could have stayed home.”
“You’re right. C’mon, let’s see about
rustling up some gorgeous humans for a trial—” The disdain on Petra’s face
froze the rest of the comment on Callie’s tongue. Compassion speared its way
into her heart, and she gave her sister a small, genuine smile. “Mates. We’re
here to find mates and get the whole Cinderella thing going. Right.”
A store front ahead of them had racks of
colored scarves on display close to the sidewalk. Callie broke into a jog,
towing her sister along behind her. She willed the water out of her hair and
off her body. The hard nipples issue she dealt with easy enough by drying off,
but the provocative jiggle of her large, full breasts was something else. No
way she’d ever wear a bra—in the human world or not. Her breasts were big, but
being a member of the Greek pantheon meant she didn’t age, and therefore, her
assets weren’t losing a battle with gravity.
“Hey, slow down. I’m eight inches shorter
than you, remember?” Petra’s laughing voice and the tug on her hand slowed
Callie’s stride enough so that the shorter woman could keep up.
“Sorry, babe.” Callie tugged a purple
and turquoise scarf off the rack and draped it around her waist gypsy style. “What
do you think?”
Petra perched a pair of sunglasses on
her nose and peeked over the rims. “I think it’s fabulous,
dah-ling
.”
She rooted in her shoulder bag and
produced a twenty for the clerk at the register. One of the harem guards had
snuck her a roll of cash as she and Petra left the castle to help fund their
adventures. That guard was a great guy—cute too, with his blond hair, green
eyes, and all those muscles. When she got back, the minute she managed to sneak
off, he’d be on the receiving end of a well deserved blow-job.
Petra’s determination and belief in
being able to find a mate was sweet, but Callie had more realistic
expectations. Three days to find your soul mate and have that man or woman be
deemed worthy of Poseidon?
Not likely.
But three days of debauchery and fun?
Hell, yes.
Deducting the six hours and now twenty
minutes from the seventy–two hours they’d been given when they hit the ground
running, Callie figured she had plenty of time to shake off some of the wander
lust and loneliness she’d been carrying for longer than she bothered to
remember anymore. Being a concubine for the sea god wasn’t all
that
bad.
She led a pampered life, well protected and cared for, surrounded by her sister
nymphs—all in all, not a terrible gig.
She spun in a circle and shook her hips,
singing along with the piped-in music. Modern music delighted her. A man only
an inch or so taller than her five foot eleven caught her eye as she twirled, and
his crooked grin revealed a chipped front tooth and a dimple in his left cheek.
She winked at him, and gave an especially saucy grind of her hips.
He started toward her, winding his way
around the racks between their bodies, chin length, dark hair swinging forward
to cover one, brown eye.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Petra hauled on her
wrist, making a beeline for the sidewalk. “We’re here for love, not quickies in
the alley.”
“Have you ever had a quickie in an alley,
Petra?” Callie glanced over her shoulder and waved to the dark haired twenty-something
hot on their trail. Petra jerked on Callie’s arm, sending her tumbling over her
flip flops when she took a hard left around the corner. “’Cause it can be fun.”
“Yes.”
“You know, for someone who was telling
me to slow down not that long ago, you sure are haulin’ ass now.” Callie shoved
her hair back from her eyes, the red, unruly mass blinding her. A big wiff of
chemicals from the dye Petra insisted on blew up her nose, and she sneezed. “Slow
down. Let’s say hi to him. We’ve shared Big P. loads of times. Let’s give that
guy a little something he’ll never forget, huh?”
“No. We don’t have time.” Long, black
curls tumbled up and down over her friend’s back as she strode around people on
the street, almost plowing a good chunk of them over. She peeked over her
shoulder and her eyes dilated to proportions Callie hadn’t seen since the time
they smoked a hookah with a bunch of satyrs on the Isle of Man. Poseidon stuck
them both on castle arrest for a month after that one. “Ah, Callie, you sure
he’s just a human?”
“Yeah, of course. Why?” The heavy weight
of a rough palm on her shoulder nearly took her to her knees, but Callie
steadied herself and whirled with one forearm raised to knock the offending
appendage off. The sharp heat of impact burned into her muscle and bone. Pain
reverberated up to her shoulder. “Ouch! What the hell?”
The guy from the store dug his fingers
in for a moment and their eyes met. His mouth dropped open and he released her,
the shock gone from his expression and replaced with a stern frown. Callie
fought the urge to massage her arm where it had made impact with his. The
forming bruise would be gone before her skin even discolored. She looked him
over more closely—confused—and pursed her lips. Something was off about him.
“What are you doing here?” The low
timbre of his voice caused her pussy to clench and swell in anticipation. His
nostrils flared, and he leaned in closer, taking an audible sniff of the skin
where her neck and shoulder met.
Before she could respond, Petra shoved
her to the side and poked him right in the middle of his very wide, muscular
chest. His blue T-shirt strained over his pecs and biceps. His upper body a
perfect vee shape that disappeared into a pair of jeans that molded around
thick, heavy thighs.
A guy with legs like that could pin a
nymph to the wall for hours.
“Hey buddy, who do you think you are
grabbing my sister like that?” Petra got close enough that nothing but a deep
breath separated their chests and jabbed him again.
Callie swallowed a snort of laughter and
clamped her palm over her mouth. The man, or male—she couldn’t be sure he was
human, he’d caught up to them much too quickly—towered over Petra and glared
right back at her, a deep line creasing the space between his eyebrows. He
probably wasn’t used to tiny women sassing him.
He captured Petra’s hand against his
chest, hauling her up and against him so that they touched from chest to shins.
The height difference put her generous breasts tight to his abdomen, and he
blinked rapidly, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline before he
lowered his forehead toward hers and his eyes flashed bright red.
“I’m the guardian of this neighborhood,
and I want to know what you two are up to.” One huge hand clasped the back of
Petra’s head, disappearing into her dark curls. “An influx of women who smell
like a mixture of salt water and sex have been traipsing through here lately
causing all kinds of trouble, and I want to know… Who. You. Are.”
Callie’s heart fluttered in her chest
and her stomach clenched. “Hey, big guy, calm down. We’re not going to cause
any trouble.”
The cool grasp of callused skin on her bicep
sent her skittering to the side, and she swallowed a gasp.
A replica of the male who had Petra
stood a foot away, his hand still in the air at chest height. He smiled, revealing
the dimple in his cheek, and scrubbed at his hair. “Sorry, beautiful. Didn’t
mean to scare you.”
The good natured twinkle in his eyes
allowed her to relax a fraction, but Callie didn’t let her attention waver from
either male for long.
What to do? The males, whatever species
they were, boasted muscles stacked on muscles. They hadn’t gotten violent yet,
but she wasn’t stupid enough to think things couldn’t head that way. She
focused on the large puddle directly behind the one currently skewering Petra
with his gaze and readied her magic to douse him in a sheet of dirty water.
“Tell your friend to back off.” She
frowned and he held his hands up, palms out. “You were the one in the store,
weren’t you? At first I thought he was—”she gestured toward the one still
restraining Petra, “—but I think now that I was wrong.”
“Guilty.” The charming dimple deepened, and
he took a half step toward her. “Theo is just overreacting. There’ve been quite
a few of you lovely ladies in town lately, and it’s making him jumpy.”
Callie tapped her foot and huffed.
“Well, look, we’re not going to cause
trouble.” Petra strained against the tight bracket of his arms, slender muscles
showing in her biceps. Theo regarded her down his nose and cocked one eyebrow.
Petra huffed, drew her leg back, and kicked him in the shin. “Oh, mother
fucker! My toes!”
Theo released Petra, and she jumped up
and down on one foot, holding her toes. “By Medusa’s stone cold ass! You broke
them.”
“You shouldn’t have struck me.” The cool
superiority of his statement combined with the haughty look on his face as he
released her sister-nymph sent Callie into a fit of giggles.
“I really don’t see how this is funny,
Callie. My phalanges broke at the tips and first joint.” Petra settled her
weight on the injured appendage and wriggled her toes.
Carbon Copy laughed as well, a deep,
wild laugh that raised the hairs on her arms and sent a phantom caress over her
skin.
“They’re healed already. Chill, babe.
Next time you want to kick some unknown male, wear steel toe boots instead of
sandals.” Callie snickered and patted her friend’s hair.
Petra and Theo glared at her and Carbon
Copy, which sent them into another laughing fit.
“I’ll ask one more time. Politely. What
are you doing in my territory?” Theo crossed his arms and glowered, but the
outer corner of his mouth twitched.
“We’re Oceanids.” Petra finger combed
her hair, and then bound it into a French twist meant to tame the unruly curls.
Instead, they fell around her face and down the nape of her neck in a beguiling
curtain of spirals. She produced a jawed clip from her waistband and clamped
the mess down. “You know, water nymphs.”
“Really?” The sexy mass of muscle next
to Callie sidled up to Petra and tugged on one of the curls brushing her
shoulder. She flinched away from him and tucked it into the clip she’d used to secure
the rest of her hair.
Theo snorted and rolled his eyes. “Of
course you are.”
The huge, sexy, stick in the mud needed
to take his attitude and lose it somewhere. What a stuffy asshole.
“Yes, really.” Callie flicked her finger,
and the pool of rainwater behind Theo splashed against his back from calves to
shoulders. He went rigid, and his cheeks turned a ruddy crimson beneath the
healthy stubble growing there. Water dripped from his fingertips. She crossed
her arms over her chest. This guy was too much. “And we’re not going to cause
any trouble—at least—not any
real
trouble.”
“You rotten little—” Theo began to
advance on her, but his twin stepped between them and turned to her, pointing
with his index finger.
“Now, now, that wasn’t very nice.” His
chest shook with suppressed mirth and Callie tried to control her facial
muscles, but a shit-eating grin stretched her mouth anyway. A man with a sense
of humor—exactly what a sex-deprived nymph needed to alleviate the terrible
ache overtaking her girly-bits.