Lovelocked (Elysian Heights Book 1) Read online

  Madison Wyler is a lust demon who’s in over his head as a relationship and sex columnist. Having been stuck in a rut for what seems to be forever, his sister gives him the idea to freshen up by doing what he does best: seducing a man to have sex with him. He meets Nolan Cook, a human male who intrigues him, and he finds his so-called prey for the night.

  Nolan is broken, however, having just split with his long-time girlfriend. Madison feels an immediate kinship and a connection with Nolan that is as scary as it is instantaneous, but he finds himself going all in to try and help mend Nolan’s broken heart rather than trying to get into his pants.

  Nolan is scared. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever love again, and this strange tie that binds him and Madison is too strong, too quick, and it throws his already off-kilter world even more off balance.

  What is this love that locks the both of them together, and can they find the meaning of it together?

  Lovelocked was originally released as In Lust, In Love, but it has been rewritten, revised, and given a brand-new cover. It is a paranormal romantic comedy at over 42,630 words with a sassy landlady, romantic incubi, a HEA, no cliffhangers, and can be enjoyed as a standalone.

  Lovelocked

  Elysian Heights One

  By

  Frey Ortega

  A FREY ORTEGA BOOK

  Lovelocked

  Elysian Heights 1

  Copyright © 2020 by Frey Ortega

  Edited by Jon Fischer

  First eBook Publication: December 2018

  Second eBook Publication: January 2020

  Cover Design by Morningstar Designs

  All Cover Art and Logo Copyright © 2020, Morningstar Designs and Frey Ortega

  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.

  All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are eighteen (18) years of age or older.

  Acknowledgements

  To the man who inspired Nolan in this story, I quote to you, song lyrics from the Filipino singer, Regine Velasquez—

  You made me stronger by breaking my heart;

  You ended my life and made a better one start

  You’ve taught me everything from falling in love to letting go of a lie.

  Because you made me stronger by saying goodbye.

  And to my readers.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Frey’s Other Books

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Dear Spiceless in Seattle,

  If you’re thinking about trying to get zesty in the bedroom with your loved one, try some chili-chocolate sauce. My recipe has Tabasco and Jalapeño in it. The chocolate in the sauce is there for the sweetness, and the Tabasco will really get things hot and raunchy!

  Sincerely,

  Maddie

  The worst feeling in the world might not have been this one in particular, but this was definitely up there.

  Madison Wyler stared blankly at the Word document on his computer screen. It was downright sinister, the way the little line blinked at him with every moment that passed. Hell, the document was basically taunting him, calling him out on his streak of horrible ineptitude.

  Honestly, Madison didn’t know what to do at that moment except lean back into his chair and sigh.

  With every passing moment, Madison was beginning to feel as though he wasn’t qualified for this job. He was an incubus, a lust demon, for crying out loud! He stepped into a bar and everyone wanted into his pants. Why did he think he was qualified to get a random, normal, non-pheromone-wielding, non-sexual-fantasy-tapping person into someone’s pants when all he needed to do was wink, giggle, and flip his hair back to get screwed by the end of the night?

  He couldn’t really give advice on relationships when he was literally just an embodiment and personification of sexual desire. What did he know about the actual hardships people faced with finding or keeping a partner?

  Madison read through their problems every week and realized that, in spite of their issues, he was jealous of them, too. They might’ve had problematic relationships, but at least they had relationships to begin with.

  Madison ran his fingers through his hair. It felt a little greasy. Shit. The auburn red locks seemed a little less bright than usual, now that he looked in the little mirror to the side of his computer. He hadn’t washed his hair in three days, and his last shower had been about a day ago. Through the last week, he’d been in his little home office tapping away at his keyboard, and then deleting his work, waiting for a miracle of some kind so that he could continue with his writing.

  There were dozens and dozens of emails in his inbox, and some of them were even open on his screen. Many of them were readers tuning in to his weekly column trying to get their problems solved—like how to get the fire kindling back in the bedroom, or how to create a safe space to explore kinks and fetishes together—and others were just complaints.

  Dear Maddie, your column is a joke, your advice is bad and you should feel bad.

  Madison shook his head. “Clearly a meme,” he muttered. “But true.”

  Complaints about his column, for one, and maybe even complaints about advice he gave in the past that they actually followed. Madison chalked that up to natural selection in action, honestly. Anyone who followed the clearly-joking advice he gave each week was…not very bright, to put it mildly.

  Madison scrunched up his face. Was that mean of him to think? It probably was. That just made him feel the slightest bit worse.

  To be honest, he was sure that the reason he still had his job was because his editor loved the “tongue-in-cheek” way he was writing his columns and the comedic irony of his advice. Just like how he was being sent memes in his inbox, the internet had relegated Madison to somewhat of a meme status—one might even call it, as some might say, “shit-post” tier. He certainly knew he wasn’t going to win awards for best advice-giver of the year. Hell, most of Madison’s readers had come to realize very, very quickly that much of his writing was more along the lines of terrible than actually helpful. There were whole discussions online dedicated to the acknowledgement that the Sincerely Maddie column was actually so terrible, he was good. Others were more correct in the assumption that it was a satire. Madison knew about the debates. He actually read those forum posts, even though his editor told him not to.

  Madison didn’t really have the heart to tell any of them that he had tried, once upon a time, a long time ago, to write sincere relationship advice. That failed spectacularly, of course, and the moment he switched to writing bad advice was the moment his editor told him he had a winner on his hands. It didn’t sit well with Madison that years of trying to improve his writing skills ended up with him as a meme, but it paid the bills.

  At least, that’s what Madison kept repeating to himself as he leaned forward to try to type something on his word document. His fingers quivered against the keys for a moment, but then he pulled away.

  Madison sighed.

  The thin line on his blank document continued to blink at him with such omino
us intent that it actually made Madison’s stomach churn.

  Maybe I should have just gone into a Wall Street job. They just party all day and have sex all night, right? I might’ve landed me a man already by then, too.

  It was a surprise to everyone in his family that Madison hadn’t ended up in a club, dancing by a pole or going into the escort trade, or being some sort of social butterfly rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. Not that there was anything wrong with any of that! After all, the strongest lust demons, whether succubus or incubus, could cause sexual frenzies just from their merest presence. Hell, everyone in his family worked in some kind of trade that allowed them to use their powers of lust and pleasure on others. That was just how it was.

  Yet here Madison was—a hermit in his apartment, with greasy hair and a deadline fast approaching.

  Who knew jokes could be so hard to write?

  There was a soft beeping sound followed by a little vibration rocking through Madison’s desk, and he immediately picked his phone up and frowned.

  Hey gurl, you awake? Working?

  Madison rolled his eyes. He knew his sister would be the one sending him a message.

  Did you forget my name again, Lily? It’s Madison, you know. Your brother. Not “gurl.”

  Whatever. You didn’t answer my question, bitch.

  “Bitch? Really?” He muttered to himself, stifling a chuckle. Madison set the phone to the side. Madison felt a smile creep up on his face. Lily always had a way of cheering him up, even though she was a crass little gremlin of a sister. First it was “gurl” and now it was “bitch.” His sister was one of those self-proclaimed hags who spent every waking second with her gal pals and gay friends. She was extremely proud of it too.

  Madison’s phone vibrated and gave a shrill little sound. He didn’t even need to look at the screen to know that it was Lily calling.

  Trying to sound as exasperated and dramatic as possible, Madison sighed as he lifted the phone to his ear. “You know, if I was working, this call would be considered a disruption,” he said, all sass, but all smiles on his face. The sound of bass dropping in the background told Madison all he needed to know about where Lily was. There was the sound of hooting and hollering, and general drunkenness and debauchery, too.

  Fun.

  “Well, hello to you too,” Lily said, voice shrill, trying to rise above the din of the club. She sounded about as drunk as Madison expected on a Friday night like this. “You know it’s fucking criminal that you’re working on a night like this, right?”

  Madison smirked. “Yeah, well, I have to. There’s a deadline this weekend. My column comes out every Wednesday, remember? Hump day?”

  It sounded like Lily was trying to head to a quieter part of the club because the music was becoming less intense. “Yeah, well, it’s only hump day for people who actually get humped. You know, for an incubus, you’re not using your powers correctly,” Lily mused. “It’s Leather Night at Jizzie McGuire’s, so why don’t you put on that cute little leather harness I bought you for Christmas and hop on down and get some fuel for your engine? Get that piston pumping?”

  Madison rolled his eyes at that, but he let his sister continue. “I get it,” he muttered.

  “Put wood in the fireplace.”

  “Yes, okay.”

  “Stick a bun in your oven.”

  Madison shook his head at that. “I can’t get pregnant, Lily.”

  “Basically, get a dick in your ass.”

  Madison rolled his eyes. “Thanks for clearing all that up.”

  “Right. Okay. And then Obie told me about this cum-swap party at Holly Daze’s later on this evening, and it’s going to be all young jocks! Come on. Meet your favorite sister out for drinks before you get ratchet on some Grade A dong? Please?” Lily begged.

  Madison gagged at the thought, and not in a good way. Sure, he was an incubus, but orgies were definitely not his thing. “Thanks, but no thanks, sis. I’m not a cum-swap party kind of guy.”

  “You know, of the both of us, I’d make the better gay guy. You’re being a downright travesty right now,” Lily said. “If girls were invited to those parties I would live forever in the memories of those filthy little jock boys.”

  Madison had no doubt she would. She was a one-woman perpetual motion machine. It was weird to have so much intimate knowledge about his sister, but lust demons like the two of them were rarely reserved or secretive about carnality. Plus, Lily just had a dirty mouth all the time, always.

  “Well, you know I’m more of a Drag Race and chill kind of guy, right?” Madison said, trying to be helpful. “I don’t really do all that. If I want to go get someone, I just go to a bar and pick a guy out. All that crazy club stuff is more your thing.”

  Lily guffawed. “I know, right? I’m like, a goddess in the club scene, and you know it.”

  Madison sighed, rubbing his cheeks. They’d started to hurt from smiling too much this entire conversation, which meant that he’d probably been frowning a bit too much these past few days. He pulled away from the desk and stretched, finally resigned to not being able to write tonight. “Yeah, yeah,” he finally replied.

  “I don’t know if I want to go out, though,” Madison added. “I have to get some beauty sleep, and there’s this new series I want to catch up on.”

  Lily scoffed. “You’re wasting your good looks out there. Your beautiful brick red hair and your porcelain skin are all lost on a homebody, you know that? Show off your shimmery hazel eyes and flash a little titty or something. Get out there and get your hole fucking destroyed, man. Maybe then you’ll get some of those creative juices flowing! At the very least there’ll be some kind of juice flowing that night, if you know what I mean.”

  Madison made a mental note to chastise his sister later on telling him to basically get fucked. Right now, the indignation was too strong, so instead, he scoffed. “You’re just trying to find an excuse for me to get out and party tonight, aren’t you? Also, ew, please don’t say that ever again. Please.”

  “It isn’t an excuse if it’s the truth. I just want you to get out there and mingle,” Lily said in deadpan. There was a long pause, and Madison could hear the sound of slurping. She was probably taking a big sip of her drink. “Wait. I just realized something.”

  Uh oh. That was usually not a good sign. What kind of dangerous machinations were inside his sister’s head this time?

  Madison tilted his head. “What, that you’re a raging alcoholic surrounding yourself with men who aren’t interested?”

  Lily snorted. “There are bi guys here too, you know. And I’m not an alcoholic. Drinking drinks is just a thing that happens in places like these. It’s called social drinking, and besides, I clean up pretty well!” Lily retorted. “But no, it’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I said come on to you earlier. I should have said, come on and then cum on. Get it? Like, because of the cum-swap party?”

  Madison visibly retched. Yecch. Not that there was anything intrinsically wrong with those kinds of parties, it’s just that risky social and sexual situations were not his forte. Meeting new people, dancing with them, and having a one-night stand from time to time, sure—but a party specifically for swapping bodily fluids with other guys?

  He was perfectly happy swapping that with just one guy at a time, thank you very much. And, he supposed, that was one of the few things that actually made him stand out from his fellow lust demons.

  “Are you high, Lily?” Madison asked. “Do you need me to call you an ambulance?”

  Lily snickered. “Nah, bitch, I’m just way more fun than you. Anyway, smell ya later, grumpy! You know, you really need to clean up and use that beautiful little butt of yours sometimes, otherwise it’s going to end up being like a fireplace you hardly ever use. Open up the flue and put a big piece of wood in there!”

  “You already used that phrase earlier!”

  “Whatever. Bye!”

  Click.

 
Madison snorted. Lily always had to get the last word in, didn’t she? But he couldn’t fault his sister for that. She was right—in some ways, not all of them, not that he would ever admit that to her face—that Madison did need to get out. Maybe he just needed a way to get out of his funk. Finding someone in a bar seemed like the best solution to his problem.

  He just needed to dress his best, turn his charm up, smile and flutter his eyelashes, and by the end of the night he would have firewood up his flue, as Lily so graciously described. And who knows, that random one-night stand could turn into something so much more. It probably wouldn’t, but if he didn’t allow himself the opportunity to experience every little thing he could, he could regret it later on.

  If nothing else, it could be in his advice column. What not to do when hooking up.

  Madison turned back to his computer and watched the subtle blink of that little line on his Word document once more. His work still taunted him. Madison knew he had to get out of there, and fast. This wasn’t going to get done tonight, but maybe he could be.

  Madison snickered. Lily was rubbing off on him…or so she wished, that pervert.

  And now he had to wonder, if the ability to think of naughty puns ran in the family, why couldn’t he have just found a job doing that?

  Chapter Two

  Dear Sad-sack,

  Condolences on you and your (ex)fiancé’s failed nuptials. I agree that space isn’t what he wants, it’s what he says he wants. You need to be on him like white on rice: you should anticipate every need he wants by catering to his every whim and desire. When he says he wants some space, that’s a sign that it’s working. Stick to him like a lamprey on a whale, and he won’t be able to live without you in no time.

  Sincerely,

  Maddie

  Madison stepped out of his apartment, finally having showered and prepped himself for the evening ahead. He hated the fact that he was going out at about ten at night—he’d much rather stay home and finish up on reading this romance novel he’d just bought—but he figured he could go out to one of his favorite haunts—it was a low-key sports bar that was three blocks away, which meant his favorite type of guy usually hung around there and he was bound to be the hottest thing within a mile radius for most guys who were even remotely interested—and find something—or someone—to do.