Tempting Clover (The Trouble With Elves Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter One

  Tempting Clover

  The Trouble With Elves, Book 2

  Decadent Kane

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

  persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Tempting Clover

  Copyright © 2015 Decadent Kane

  Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde

  Editor: Leona Bushman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations

  embodied in reviews.

  Books by Decadent Kane

  Trouble with Elves Series

  Ribbon of Darkness

  Tempting Clover

  Steele Your Soul

  A Hint of Cayenne

  A Whisper of Rue

  Dedication:

  For the people who stand beside me even when the goblins run amok.

  Chapter One

  His voice caressed her thoughts with deep rumblings, bringing vivid images of his tongue with it. “I want to taste you.” His calloused hand slid over her exposed thigh. Her panties grew wet. The familiar tingle clutched her stomach and extended outward at an alarming pace. Not again. Clover suppressed her groan. She met a coal-black gaze, reached for his perfectly pointed ears, but knew she’d disappear before an explanation fell from her lips. She smiled and closed her eyes, resigned to floating away into the nether and rematerializing at the goblin’s door. Cursed to disappear every time she became sexually aroused, always coming back to the same damn place.

  Stupid goblins. Never seek refuge in their home. Clover wished she could go back in time and tell herself that a goblin lived in the old beautiful cottage on the hill. She remembered the night vividly. It had been storming and his home stood the only one within miles. Clover, soaked to her core, had needed a place to dry, warm, and sleep till the storm passed. He had walked out of the cottage like a knight ready to rescue a damsel. A goblin with a human form. Only she hadn’t known he was a goblin then. He looked like any other human she’d ever seen, except more attractive than most. He had a smooth jaw line and a smile that complemented his dark brown eyes. He’d reached out to her, beckoned her in.

  In the elven realm, goblins were avoided because of their mischief. They tended to rely on curses to get what they wanted, and if an elf were to ever owe them, it would be unlikely the debt could ever be repaid, as the goblin took complete control with magic. The older the goblin, the stronger the curses. If only she had looked closer, paid more attention that night, perhaps she wouldn’t be in this mess now, two years later. Still in debt. She could be back in her own glen in the Elven realm. She missed the twinkling fireflies, how the moonbeams bounced off the wisps wandering around the glen, giving the tiny creatures a blue hue. They had always been her favorite. Never made a sound, but always floating around. They knew the realm better than even most elves.

  On the human side, wisps didn’t exist and Clover had not been allowed to spend any free time back in her glen since the goblin cursed her. Her poor hut had probably fallen to the insects by now. She’d have to rebuild—well, if she ever freed herself from Malik.

  “Just in time, little morsel. I ran out of my potion. Now be a good elf and hand them over.” His scratchy voice brought her back from the memory. Malik held out his pudgy green hand. He stood half her height, but after he mixed his elixir, he turned human, reaching nearly six feet. She had no idea what he actually wove into his concoction, except he needed her desire to make it work. Clover guessed it could be any female’s desire, really. However, she was an elf, thus creating a much more potent potion for Malik to use in order to change into a human a woman would adore. And Malik loved his human women.

  When she’d first met him two years ago, he’d been handsome, a savior from the storm. But she couldn’t see his good looks anymore. Potion or no, she always saw his plump green form with his nose protruding out from his face, sunken, red beady eyes, and rotted teeth. She cringed, pulled her panties down, and handed them over without touching his sandpaper skin.

  Good thing she wore a skirt when he forced her to go out. His magic compelled her to do his bidding, so to speak. The only thing she had control over was what she wore—otherwise, her petite body took over without using her mind—just her desire. It consumed her beyond thought. Right before she materialized back to Malik her body became hers again.

  She’d quit trying to run away a while back, finding out quickly how far she could and couldn’t get, hoping one day she would be able to use it to her advantage. She stopped running though, as he always found her, always made her come back one way or another. Instead, she just did as she was bid, gaining trust slowly, waiting, listening, asking questions when she could. Still, she hadn’t found a cure or even a witch to counter the goblin magic. Though she had run into rumors—rumors she fully intended to investigate in order to free herself. Hell, most of the magic users she had spoken with hadn’t even come across this particular curse, as if the goblin had made the spell for her alone. She wouldn’t put it past a nasty goblin to have thought that far ahead, scouted her out even. Though he never gave her any inclination he had done so.

  “He must not have been that good-looking, or perhaps the chemistry was off a bit. These barely have anything to work with. You’ll have to go find another.” Malik stuck the panties into a boiling pot. Blue smoke rose up and he turned the fire down from the stove.

  “It’s been two years since I’ve had an orgasm. Can’t you just give me some time? Why don’t I sit right here and play with myself until you have what you want.” Though she knew the answer and had tried several times to help herself.

  “You know that’s not how it works. How many times do we have to have this conversation? You are in my debt. You can’t get off and I won’t allow you to. Your desire must be induced by a male, or my potion can’t turn me male. You are just that special.” He turned and smiled at her. Malik poured the contents of the pot into a magically charged glass jar. Her panties evaporated, and as the contents cooled, it turned into a blue gel.

  Clover had no special qualities to make her stand out. He just liked to torture her. Her frustration mounted. “Look here, no one can get me off, and I can’t get myself off. What do you think will happen to me without ever getting release? It’s worse than a male with blue balls.”

  “It will be most interesting to see what happens. Let’s call it our little Clover experiment. Do keep me posted on your condition. Now be a good little elf and get me more juice. Pick someone who really gets you stirred. Take your time so you don’t have to go through this process again tonight.” He flicked his wrist and her underwear appeared in his hand, dry and clean.

  Clover snatched them from him, slid them on, and stormed out of the quaint little cottage. She had stomped down two steps when the familiar draw came and the goblin’s magic moved her into the nether, materializing
her outside an upscale bar in the middle of downtown Nirra, one of the many elven cities parallel to the human realm. Malik chose to live on the human side.

  A steady dance beat blared out from the bar. Females in silks and fur skirted in and out of the place. Clover looked up at the name, Reed, carved in fancy black letters lit across a silver background. The glass doors swung open and two women giggled as they clutched the arm of a guy dressed to the nines. Clover straightened her skirt, plumped her breasts, drew her blouse down to catch cleavage, and headed inside. Black pumps clicked on the pavement as Clover walked past patrons filing out. A gentleman held the door for her and desire kicked into high gear. Her body vibrated, and overcome with a need to feel hands on her, she rubbed palms along her hips and sashayed forward.

  Nirra was above par compared to many elven places. Reed’s bar probably the most upscale thing around. Most elves made natural looking places, but the bar was a mix of modern human and nature interwoven.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” a ruff voice asked from her left.

  Clover glanced over. Too short. “No thanks.” She moved up to the bar. Luckily, a seat sat open at the end. She slid onto the stool and waited for the bartender to come over. He had his back turned towards her, with several females vying for his attention. She turned and placed an elbow back on the bar for balance as she searched the crowd. She needed tall, dark, and predatory. Someone with some spunk. Lately she’d been feeling a bit feisty and wanted—scratch that, needed—a challenge. Someone who could back her into a wall and trap her between it and his hard cock. The small thought sparked her lust higher. She held the image of some stranger in her mind, someone she’d yet to meet, a face obscured, but enough of an idea of her need to know it when she saw it.

  The crowd pumped to the beat on the dance floor but no one caught her eye. As she surveyed the bar area, most of the men were either with someone or not in her age group. Neither being conducive to her need.

  “What can I getcha?” a deep, masculine voice asked behind her.

  “A shot of Jack.” Clover didn’t bother to look back. She uncrossed her legs, re-crossed them, and finally spotted a potential panty-wetter. He’d just walked through the door and his eyes searched the crowd. She waited for him to spot her. He seemed in good shape, a solid form from this distance. From here, he looked to be at least taller than her five-foot-two frame. He’d ponytailed his blond hair back. He glanced up and blue eyes found hers. Gotcha. Clover fluttered her lashes, grinned, and nodded him over. Perhaps blonds would have more fun...

  She twirled around. The shot of Jack sat on the bar. She picked it up, brought the wood cup to her lips, and tossed it back. When her eyes opened, she came face-to-face with a smoldering emerald gaze. The blond no longer had a chance.

  Chapter Two

  Surprised hazel eyes met Reed’s over the counter. He could smell her cinnamon perfume. Reed had watched her walk her pretty little ass up to the bar like a feline on the prowl. He could read females like her from a mile away. She probably had a different guy each night, tossing them to the side when she was done. He’d sworn off women like her for a reason, and despite the twitch in his pants, she’d be no different than any of the rest. He wanted a one-man woman and elves like her, never were. “Would you like another?”

  The elfess stared at him with a glossy smile and drooped lids. He knew she wanted to draw him in, but batting lashes and a little flirt weren’t enough to draw his attention let alone change his mind.

  “Look miss, I’ll just be over here if you decide you want something else.” Reed wiped his hands on a towel hanging behind the bar and headed to the next waiting customer. A blond man sidled up beside the tongue-tied lady. Yeah he could use lady, all females had potential, she just wasn’t his kind of lady. Though telling himself that several times in the past few minutes hadn’t helped the ache hardened in his jeans.

  “I’d like an orange bitter.” The blond flashed a smile.

  Reed had worked in bars long enough to read the best and worst in people, a gift. The blond projected not only cheap, but a player. Perfect for the elfess next to him. An orange bitter, a relatively simple drink made with orange foam, remained the most basic elfin alcohol of firefly juice and half a walnut for an earthy taste. The orange foam was a concoction of orange peel and almonds. He already had most of his drinks premade and on tap. Nothing left to do but pour glasses and take money. Always over prepared, he came in early to make sure each tap was ready with the different mixed drinks, a total of thirteen. The rest were straight shots of human alcohol, an elf favorite. Reed poured and then put the tall cup in front of the blond. “Three coppers.”

  The blond dropped the three copper pieces on the bar and turned to the elfess. “Mind if I stare at you up close instead of from across the room?” He leaned in towards her and deliberately dropped his gaze to her cleavage.

  Reed rolled his eyes. Definitely cheap. He wiped the bar with a wet towel.

  “Get lost.” Her voice came out feminine and strong. She knew what she wanted, or perhaps what she didn’t want. Reed smiled to himself. Strength, a trait he could admire.

  The blond huffed, stood from the chair, and grabbed her face with his hand. “Listen here, you dirty little slut. You found me across the room. You encouraged this. So I have a mind to believe you will give me my due because I came over to give you the time of day.”

  Reed’s attention flashed to the elfess and the blond. She glared at the man, grabbed his slender hand, and slammed it down on the empty shot glass still sitting in front of her. It splintered. Reed’s fists clenched and his inner gentleman was both appalled and proud of her. Torn between breaking it up and letting her fend for herself, he watched.

  The blond growled at her. His voice came out deep and menacing. “You’ll pay for that.” He pulled his fist back and the elfess flinched. Reed grabbed his arm as it swung to connect with her pretty face. “That’s enough, mister. It’s ‘bout time you left.” He twisted the man’s arm up and lifted him off the ground. “Do I have to throw you out or will you leave of your own accord?”

  “Shit, man, that hurts. Let me down, you stupid bark rot.”

  That finished it for Reed. His anger boiled over and he easily jumped the counter, still holding onto the blond, whose legs kicked out in the air, as he tried to struggle from Reed’s grip to no avail. These cheap drunks. No better than thrifters seeking a warm place to sleep in the slums. He might have had some looks to him, but that attitude had to go. Lady or jezebel, she still deserved respect.

  The crowd parted as Reed stormed through the bar to the glass doors. He pushed them open and flung the blond out on his ass. “You’ve been banned. I don’t want to see your face in here again.”

  “What right do you have to kick me out, you lowlife!” The blond had found his feet and came up ready to charge Reed.

  “I own this bar, and unless you want to find yourself in a beehive, I’d suggest you walk away.” Reed’s patience failed. Some darker part of him wanted the blond to rush him, wanted the thrill of the fight, although he wasn’t much of a threat to Reed. He’d be no more challenge than a falling leaf against a tornado. Reed hadn’t had a solid fight in weeks. His body craved it and he challenged the elf with his eyes. His heart thumbed steadily, waiting...

  The blond cracked his knuckles and stood there as if trying to decide his options. Finally, he straightened his shirt, rolled his shoulders, and walked off.

  Reed let out a breath. His hands shook as adrenaline sparked through him. He turned back toward the bar to find the hazel-eyed elfess sauntering towards him. Her hips swayed with each step, and his cock twitched its approval. Down boy! Reed swallowed his groan. Why did he always save the bad ones?

  Chapter Three

  Clover watched his chest widen as he inhaled. He owned the bar and did the tending? Impressive. One little thing to settle. “My savior...” she purred and reached for him, sliding her body up against his. “What do you want for your heroic deed, sir?�
�� Her voice took on a note of sarcasm. “Perhaps I should repay you with a nice, long fuck. Is that what you want?” She brushed a hand along his chest and walked a circle around him. It’s what all men wanted, and if she could oblige, she would. Despite her hurt pride, she found his masculinity, his strength penetrating every part of the bar, captivating.

  “I want nothing from you. I only did what any gentleman would have done, Elfess.”

  Her heart skipped. He’d already nicknamed her. Anger flared. “I can handle myself. You had no reason to interfere.” It didn’t matter that she liked the nickname and how it rolled off his tongue in that smooth low voice. She didn’t need a protector. She needed release...

  People began to stare.

  “And what could you have done as his fist collided with your pretty face? I couldn’t have that now, could I?” His eyebrow arched.

  “It wouldn’t have hit me. I would have moved out of the way. He was slow. I had everything under control. You men are all the same—only looking to fulfill your own pride, make sure you’re seen in a good light. I’m no distressed elfling.” Clover stepped back. She was pissed and turned on at the same elfing time.

  Anger permeated him. His nostrils flared out and his face turned the cutest shade of red. Clover resisted the urge to smile, which would only make things go for the worse not the better.

  “Next time, I will oblige your pride.” He advanced on her, taking away the distance between them. His jaw clenched when he reached her. Clover moved backwards, wary of his intentions. His green eyes glared. “Are you worried now, Elfess?”

  Her breath hitched as he crowded her and moved her farther back until her ass found the counter. He placed his hands on either side, effectively capturing her. She had nowhere to go. Just as she wanted when she came in and her body responded to it, “I’m not worried. Why should I be? You kept him from hurting me, so I know you won’t turn around and do the same thing.” She licked her lips. She felt the wetness on her panties and rubbed her legs together, enjoying the friction. The temptation to take him right then and there overwhelmed her. She inhaled his masculine scent and almost melted into him, but stopped herself at the last moment.