Unbalanced Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  No Rival, book 4

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  Author Bio

  Unbalanced

  No Rival #4

  Charity Parkerson

  Without limiting the rights under copyright(s) reserved above and below, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

  Please Note

  The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Brief passages may be quoted for review purposes if credit is given to the copyright holder. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Any resemblances to person(s) living or dead, is completely coincidental. All items contained within this novel are products of the author’s imagination.

  Punk & Sissy Publications

  --Warning: This book is intended for readers over the age of 18.

  Copyright © 2016 Charity Parkerson

  Editor: Vicky Reese

  ISBN-10:1-946099-04-X

  ISBN-13:978-1-946099-04-4

  Note: This book was originally published under the same title with Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  All rights reserved.

  No Rival, book 4

  Using unmatched skill and intelligence, Kurt captures the attention of every partner he desires. His ability to confuse his prey keeps them captivated. This trick has never failed him. That is, until he meets McKenna.

  Author McKenna Jones has gone to great lengths to ensure the details of her erotic books are airtight. When Kurt challenges one of her scenes, she doesn’t hesitate to take up his offer to prove his theory. The bad boy MMA fighter appeals to her on every level. Kurt’s intelligence stimulates her mind even as his touch sets her body on fire. Although McKenna would rather not add her name to his list of ex-lovers, she cannot resist his pull.

  McKenna’s odd behavior exasperates Kurt. She is an addiction he cannot shake, but somehow the two of them need to make the combination of his OCD logic and her unbalanced nature work, because a surprise is about to turn their lives upside down.

  Dedication

  For every department store clerk who didn't call me crazy—to my face—as I sniffed each business suit and men’s cologne I came across while writing this book. You earned your angel wings.

  Chapter One

  November

  She wasn’t wearing shoes. Funnily enough, it was the first detail about her that caught his eye. At a table, in public, Kurt found her shoeless state odd. There were a thousand tiny things about her he should have noticed first. Without a doubt, her plain black t-shirt, yoga pants, and the overall lack of effort toward her appearance allowed her to blend into the background. It shouldn’t have mattered. Kurt wasn’t usually so blind. None of those points stole an ounce of power from her beauty. There wasn’t a hint of makeup marring her face. Blonde curls piled on her head, held in place by some sort of clip. Something about her eyes held him captivated. They were unfocused as they moved across the pages of the book she held between her hands. In spite of that, he felt sure she absorbed every word, only on a different plane than others would.

  He moved closer. The lack of footwear became an obsession. Curiosity ate at him. He needed to know why. The coffee shop located inside a G. Richards’ Bookstore had a sign posted clearly on the front door. “No shoes. No service.” Once Kurt managed to snag the chair directly across from her, he bent at the waist. Under the guise of dropping a napkin, he peered under the edge of her table. Suspicions confirmed. His brows drew together in a frown as he sat up.

  After a moment of staring at the corner, he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Your feet are bare.”

  Lifting her gaze from the book between her hands, she blinked several times. He could practically see her dragging her mind away from whatever cloud it was on.

  “What?”

  “Your feet,” he repeated. “They have no shoes on them.”

  “Oh. I’d forgotten.” She immediately dismissed him by returning to her reading.

  “You’re inside a business. They serve food.”

  She didn’t bother glancing his way as she responded. “If that bothers you, I won’t mention the state of my underwear.”

  He had to know. “Did you forget those, as well?”

  That got her attention. A line formed between her eyes as if his question was too stupid for her to fathom.

  “How does someone forget their underwear?”

  “How does a person forget their shoes?” he shot back.

  Tilting her head to one side, she seemed to think it over for a moment before responding. “Is this a trick question?”

  Kurt scoffed as he reminded her of the obvious. “You’re not wearing them.”

  Her mouth turned up in one corner in such a way his gaze immediately shot to her lips. “I’m aware.”

  Unable to keep the exasperation from his voice, Kurt sighed. “You said you’d forgotten your shoes. It stands to reason, then, you would know how one goes about it.”

  Setting her book aside, she nodded slowly as if giving his theory due consideration. “Your logic is sound,” she admitted after a moment. Finally, they were getting somewhere. She immediately ruined it by adding, “Except, I said no such thing. Therefore, I cannot help you.”

  There was a moment where he had nothing. He couldn’t recall a single incident where anyone had caused his mind to go blank. His brain was always on the move, slightly dissatisfied with his lot. She’d wiped him clean. Her blue eyes focused on him fully as if awaiting his next move. When he wasn’t quick enough, she released a heavy sigh.

  “If you must know, when I got here I realized I had on two different-colored shoes so I took them off.”

  Without waiting to see his reaction, she flipped her book up between them, shutting him out. A part of him wanted to laugh at her confession. He was too fascinated. Not to mention, with his curiosity assuaged he really wanted to hear more about the rest.

  “What about your underwear?”

  She ignored him. He bit back a smile. His mind whirled back to life and he searched for a new way to insert himself into her company. Tilting his head, he read the title blocking her eyes from his gaze. The Ins and Outs of BDSM. Catchy title. Switching his gaze to the other items scattered across her table, he took note of another book on bondage as well as some handwritten notes. As far as he could tell by what she’d scratched out, she was either intent on rocking some dude’s world or plotting one hell of a murder.

  He braced his elbows on the table, lowering his voice to where only she could hear. “I have handcuffs back at my place.”

  She set the book aside. Mimicking his pose, her eyes shone with mirth as she pitched her voice low, as well. “I have a Taser in my handbag.”

  Holding back his laughter, Kurt didn’t miss a beat. “Kinky,” he said, adding a wink. “I like it.”

  Snorting, she slapped her hand over her mouth and nose as if she couldn’t believe what she’d done.

  “I
’m Kurt,” he offered before she could escape into her mind again.

  “McKenna.”

  *

  He had handcuffs. She bet he did. The only statement Kurt had made that McKenna found surprising was that they were back at his place. The in-your-face piercings, tattoos, and biker boots look had her expecting him to whip them out right then and slam them down on the table between them. Why did she attract all the weirdoes? She was the weirdo whisperer. They found her everywhere she went. Of course, she was the real dumbass in the equation because she’d given him her name.

  “Are you studying to become a Madam?”

  “Where are you from?” It wasn’t an attempt to block on McKenna’s part. She really didn’t want to talk about her work with a stranger but he had an odd accent. Perhaps it was more that he didn’t have an accent at all, yet he spoke as if English was not his first language.

  “Here and there.”

  He was wasting her time. She didn’t like time stealers.

  “I have things to do.” The words popped out. It happened more often than she liked. Still, she didn’t know him. Why should she be thrust into polite conversation? Deciding she shouldn’t, McKenna pulled her notebook closer. She didn’t know where her pen had gone.

  “Are you looking for this?” A triumphant smile lit his face as she spotted her pen between his fingers. He turned it over in his hands and peered closer at it. “Hmm, McKenna Jones, Best Selling Author. Interesting. Am I to assume you’re the McKenna Jones on this pen?”

  An inner groan sounded loud inside her head. She wanted to kick her own ass. The pens were meant for fans but nine times out of ten, she ended up keeping them for herself. She went through a lot of ink. Of course, it had never occurred to her they would lead a psycho to her door.

  This time she was blocking. “How am I supposed to be responsible for what you assume? You are a grown man.”

  His eyes hooded at her words. Damn. Hadn’t being an erotica author taught her anything? It was hard work weighing her every response to make sure it couldn’t be misconstrued once it left her mouth.

  “You haven’t seen the whole package…yet. I’m still capable of growing a bit more.”

  She could stab him in the eye. Well, probably she couldn’t, but she could make him her bitch in her next book.

  His eyes lit with challenge. “How do you intend to make me your bitch?”

  Oh dear. She really needed to pay closer to what her mouth was doing while her mind was otherwise engaged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  His lips parted as if she’d shocked him speechless with her blatant lie. Lying was her job. Why were people surprised by it? He made an obvious attempt to recover.

  “You just…” he paused and a new light entered his green eyes. “Oh. I see. You’re crazy.”

  Ouch. McKenna dropped her gaze to the notebook, shutting him out. This was why she didn’t like people. They didn’t understand. A word she’d written earlier caught her attention. Everything else disappeared. She needed to google fetishes. These books weren’t helping. There wasn’t a single reference to any of the unique fetishes people had. She really wanted Luke to have some freaky thing he enjoyed doing in the bedroom. Of course, it couldn’t be anything too strange or she wouldn’t be able to help Lacey fall in love with him. Damn. Sometimes it was hard making characters do what she wanted. Every time she thought she had the storyline figured out, one of them would end up falling for a side character instead. This damn deadline was staring her in the face. Everyone wanted the sexy fireman to end up with Lacey. Neither of her stubborn characters wanted to listen to her.

  McKenna was halfway through packing up her belongings before she realized Kurt was gone. An unexpected pang hit her in the chest. It was stupid. Her mind was crowded with fictional characters who wouldn’t quit talking long enough for her to have any peace. Sliding her notebook closer, she moved to flip it closed but at the last second, she spotted two words written on the page in someone else’s handwriting.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The twinge hit her again. Reaching up she rubbed the spot in her chest that was aching. It was ridiculous she should be so lonely when she was never alone. The words blurred and McKenna blinked back tears. The bastard had stolen her pen.

  * * * * *

  He’d called her crazy…him. As if he had any fucking right. Fuck. This was why he stayed on his own playground. There were no misunderstandings. All the participants here did more than recognize their demons. They embraced them.

  The darkened alcove outside club Affinity was perfect for a little late-night action. Working security at the door got boring otherwise. People didn’t flood the exclusive fetish club all at once. There was never a line built up outside the door. They trickled in a few at a time, with sneaking glances and under the cover of darkness. This gave Kurt time to inspect the wares. He enjoyed measuring each new prospect, weighing their gumption. Most of all, Kurt loved finding people’s boundaries and pushing them over. He wasn’t picky in the traditional sense. Body type, gender or certain coloration didn’t factor into his decision at all. It ran deeper. A strong sense of self-worth tasted smoother than the finest whiskey going down.

  Tonight was no exception. The caramel-skinned male—whose ass was currently cradled against Kurt’s hips—didn’t prefer men. Kurt wasn’t any man though and once he set his sights on someone, it was only a matter of time. Cupping Patrick’s jaw, Kurt tilted his head back, holding it steady against his shoulder.

  Speaking quietly against his ear, Kurt wooed him with the pitch of his voice. “Is this what you’ve been missing?” he asked as he slid his other hand down the front of Patrick’s body.

  The button and zipper of the man’s jeans easily gave way beneath Kurt’s fingers. The sound of Patrick’s labored breaths kicked up a notch. Counting slowly to three in his head, Kurt intentionally drew out the anticipation before encircling Patrick’s erection. His reward came when the man released a heartfelt moan.

  “I’m what you’ve been lacking,” Kurt assured him with a stroke of the smooth skin beneath his fingertips. He brushed the silver ring on his thumb over the man’s crown. The moisture seeping out told him more than the sounds Patrick made. “This is delicious when it hits the back of my throat. There’re so many things I could do for you. Can you picture it? Close your eyes and imagine me on my knees.”

  Kurt didn’t lift his gaze from his prize to see if Patrick obeyed. He knew he would. Handling Patrick’s dick as he would his own, Kurt increased the steady speed of his pumping. “My cheeks are hollowed out as you slide down as deep as you can go. I’m tightened around you with wet heat lapping at your dick. You fuck my mouth the way you’ve been imagining for weeks.”

  The slight twitch in muscle spoke volumes about how close Patrick was to orgasm. At the last second, Kurt tightened his grip at the head of Patrick’s cock, holding still and cutting off the man’s release. An audibly strangled cry caught in Patrick’s throat. He bucked against Kurt’s hand as if seeking the pleasure he’d been denied. Touching his lips to his ear, Kurt soothed him with his voice. “I won’t disappoint.” He closed his mouth around Patrick’s lobe, sucking lightly. “Damn, I wish this was your dick.”

  Patrick whimpered. Returning to a gentle stroke of his shaft, Kurt rotated his hips, grinding his erection against the man’s ass. “Brace yourself,” he warned. “You’re about to learn what all the multiple-orgasm hype is about.”

  * * * * *

  The street below his apartment was noisy as hell. He was used to it for the most part. There were nights, like tonight, when the sound of traffic competed for attention with all the thoughts running through his overactive brain. It was times such as these he thought he might go insane from the noise. It was already too late at night to go to the Warehouse District and sign up for a fight. An unsanctioned, no-holds-barred bout was exactly what he needed to rid himself of the extra energy. Instead, he plugged his guitar into its amp and the computer befor
e attaching his headphones as well. The result was a muffled song only he could hear while his music program recorded the notes of the tune floating across his mind. If it weren’t for the neighbors who’d been stuck with him, he wouldn’t worry over the noise. There was no reason for everyone to pay due to his inability to settle down. Five chords in and he was still crawling out of his skin. He was incapable of escape.

  Ripping off the headphones, Kurt paced the room, unable to find a single ounce of peace. He glanced at the clock. There wasn’t a reason. It simply gave him something to do with his eyes. Things hadn’t this bad in a long time. Reaching inside his back pocket, he pulled out McKenna’s pen. Was he feeling guilty over the way he’d left things? He’d left a note. She may not have seen it or even more likely, she might feel his piss-poor apology wasn’t good enough.

  He flipped his laptop toward him and did a quick Internet search for McKenna Jones. His hope was there would be an email address available for the public. He should make some attempt to set the matter right. The look on her face before she’d hidden it from view kept flashing through his mind. He scrubbed his hands through his hair. Yeah. He needed to offer a better apology. Sixty-seven pages of Google results popped up on the screen. Her website was listed first. He clicked on it. His eyes widened as the website opened. An amazingly sexy picture of McKenna wearing an all-leather outfit filled the screen. It was only supposed to be the background image. Kurt wasn’t seeing anything else on the page. It was her. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. He had a photographic memory, especially when it came to beautiful objects. McKenna Jones was one of the rarest gems he’d ever seen. He’d called her crazy. Tearing his eyes away from her face, he checked out the list of books. They were erotica, which explained a great deal. Each book title contained something about the devil. The Devil I Know. The Devil I Love. The Devil I Desire. The list went on and on until there were twenty-five in total.