Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More

by Mandy M. Roth

  "It’s all right, I’ll handle this,” he murmured. The security guard nodded and backed away, returning to his post. “Hello, there.”

  "H-hello." She stared up at him again before shaking her head bemusedly. "I’m sorry to stare, but you look so familiar."

  The implication of her words sank in and he took a long pull from his drink to buy himself a few seconds.

  So she didn't remember him. Not in the traditional sense at least. Or was she just a really good actress and trying to play him? The former would be far his preference. She'd irritated him to be sure, but he didn't want to see her hurt and he certainly didn't want to be the one to have to do it. And still, if it was an act and she did remember all the things that had transpired during Zara's turning from human to nightwalker? The things he'd been tasked to erase from her memory upon their return to the Cape?

  He would have no choice but to make sure she forgot them. He'd been the one on deck to take care of this issue. If traditional methods had truly failed, he'd have to push deeper, and deeper meant riskier. He would hate to do that. Hate to push a young, beautiful woman to the brink of insanity, and only hope she was able to recover.

  Zara would hate him if she found out, Gabriel would probably throttle him, but those things he could live with if he had to. Far worse would be dealing with Ezekiel's wrath if he knew there was a human walking around with real, firm knowledge of nightwalkers. Life was a series of choices, and the least of all the evils was always the one that ended with him still in one piece, wealthy, healthy and cunning.

  Yes, no matter what, if Stephanie did indeed remember him, his hands would be tied. And not in the good way.

  Getting to the bottom of whatever was going on here with Zara's little friend became his new, top priority. But he couldn’t deny that the boredom dragging him inexorably under had disappeared the second she’d walked in the door.

  "Phineas Fenton," he murmured, sticking out a hand. "Are you lost?"

  Chapter 2

  He was real.

  The golden hair, that square, handsome face. The straight line of his nose. The deep gold of his eyes.

  None of it had been imagined. It was really him.

  She swallowed hard as her gaze locked onto his firm lips and she remembered with a rush of heat the way those same lips had teased hers. A second memory forced away the first, but this one felt more like a dream. Him fanning kisses down the column of her throat until he met the space between her breasts. Sucking one dusky nipple into his mouth and coaxing her need until she was raw and achy for him.

  It was so vivid, so real that even now she wanted to grab ahold of him and relive every dark fantasy.

  Still, heat flamed her face and she glanced away, trying to force the memories to subside. Knowing that even now she looked flushed and needy to anyone who laid eyes on her.

  And right now? He was the only one looking.

  "Miss? Are you lost?" The deep, throaty voice she'd only heard in her dreams addressed her again, his powerful muscles looking even more intimidating than the ones that she felt like she remembered. She wondered if they felt just as hard, just as defined as they had in her dreams, and another rush of heat came over her as she imagined him without his dapper, gray suit on.

  Wondered if maybe everything was exactly as she'd pictured it…

  Again, she swallowed hard and shook her head.

  "No. Not lost." Her voice was barely a whisper, and he eyed her skeptically.

  "This isn't the right side of the bar for you. I think you're looking for--"

  "I know what this is." She cut through him, trying desperately to find her voice. "The Dark Side, right?"

  "So you know this place is for more than just people looking for billiards and a quick drink." He cocked an eyebrow and another rush of need swelled inside her as she took in the lilt of his British accent. She knew this man. Knew him body and soul and the more he spoke, the more familiar he seemed.

  So why was he pretending he didn’t know her? Or was this finally proof positive she was off her rocker?

  "I know." She sounded more certain this time, but the raspy need in her throat was still more pronounced than she would have liked. "I actually...Have we met before?" she tried again.

  He surveyed her for a long moment, and she felt his gaze on her like he was touching her. Running his fingers up her legs, over her stomach, down her cheek.

  "I think I would have remembered meeting you," he said finally.

  She did her best not to shiver, but nodded all the same.

  "Maybe we should go on over to the other side. Talk there," he said, and then he placed his hand on the small of her back and she breathed deep, waiting for what would come next.

  What she found, though, was simply his gentle push as he led her toward the door.

  "I said I know what this place is," she insisted and he offered her a half smile.

  "Sure you do."

  She stopped short, not allowing him to guide her one step closer to the exit. The second she went back out there, any chance to really talk would be lost. The music was thumping so loud, it shook the floor, and the people were packed in like sardines. No, if she wanted to talk to Phineas Fenton, the mysterious stranger, she had to stand her ground.

  She could be wrong. She'd accepted that the second she'd walked through those doors. But now she knew he was here. He was real. And something deep down inside was telling her this was only the tip of the iceberg. She had to know the truth of what was happening to her, and if it was all in her head? Well, she'd be the first to check herself into the psych ward.

  She had to take the risk. Had to trust her instincts.

  "Look, buddy, I said I know where I am. I've been to tons of BDSM clubs before. I'm into the lifestyle, okay? I'm down with, you know, bondage and nipple clamps and like those pants without the butt--"

  "Chaps?"

  She ignored the quirk of his lips as she brazened forward. "Yep. Chaps. And, you know, the SNN thing."

  "S&M?"

  "That's what I said. I love that stuff. S&M. BDSM. HGTV. The whole deal."

  He tilted his lips in what was clearly a mocking smile, the same one she'd seen in her dreams a million times before.

  That was all she had to see. All she had to witness to know her gut was right.

  There was more here than what met the eye, and no matter what, she was going to stick it out and find out what it was.

  Phin glanced around the bar, gripping Steph’s forearm and led her away from the door, away from prying eyes. Still, prying eyes followed them, though not for any reason he should have been worried about.

  She seemed totally unaware of it, but from the second she'd walked through those doors, every male eye, human and vampire alike, had been trained on her. She was like a beacon. A subtle mix of sexuality and innocence that was like nightwalker catnip.

  He had to get her out of here and fast--before he was forced to show these guys exactly how off-limits she was, but first he had to determine how serious she was. And what, exactly, knew.

  About his kind. About him. About what had happened.

  All of it.

  "What’s your name?" he asked.

  "Oh, um, Steph." She glanced down and he realized he was still holding her forearm, ready to lead her away again. And maybe he should. Take her out of here to someplace quiet so they could talk. After all, he couldn't leave her alone with these vultures circling her.

  But maybe there was another option. One that would keep her off kilter and hopefully allow him to get to the bottom of this visit without rousing her suspicions or having to violate her personal rights again by entering her mind.

  "Well, Steph, since you know everything about SNN and clubs like this one, how about you tell me which fantasy room you'd like to visit?"

  “Fantasy room?” she hedged, biting down on her bottom lip gently before offering him a shrug. "I like them all, pretty much. You know, I try to mix it up. Surprise me."

  He couldn't have
asked for a better response.

  "Your wish is my command." He smiled, then placed his hand on the small of her back again as he led her to the room in the far corner of the bar. As they moved, his fingers twitched with the urge to move lower, to cup her ass as she walked. Or to move higher and twist his fingers in her silky hair.

  Lord, that was annoying. Just like the dreams that had plagued him since they’d kissed in Montana. He wasn’t used to a woman having her hooks in him for more than a night. This one had managed to stick in his thoughts for weeks, and they hadn’t even slept together.

  Still, he maintained his control and squared his jaw as they walked into the most hardcore viewing room the place offered. A security guard stopped him outside and turned to Steph.

  “This room’s interior is unmonitored by security and built for two. Can you give consent that you’re going in willingly with this gentleman?”

  Phin waited for her to answer, wondering if that would be the kicker that would get her to change her mind.

  To his surprise, she nodded once. “Yup.”

  Once inside, he closed the door behind them. A waitress slipped in from behind one of the black curtained tunnels that ran through the interior of the club like catacombs.

  "Mr. Fenton. Can I fetch you a drink, sir?" she asked as soon as she saw him and she turned to Steph with curious eyes.

  "What can I get for you?" he asked.

  "Um. A Manhattan. Please." She practically choked out the words, but he pretended not to notice. Just like he pretended not to notice the way she surveyed the waitress's collar and corset-clad uniform or the single light shining in the currently empty glass-enclosed room in front of them.

  "Two Manhattans please, Victoria," he said to the waitress and she gave him a quick nod before disappearing behind the curtain again.

  "You look a little pale? Everything all right? Is this place so different from the rest of the BDSM clubs you've frequented?" He couldn’t help himself from teasing her, and the blush that rose in her cheeks was so bright that he could see it even in the darkly lit room.

  "No. Not surprised. Just...excited. For, the, um…thing. To start."

  He nodded. For all he knew, she could be telling the truth. If the audible-to-his-ears spike in her heartbeat was anything to go by, she could be very excited indeed.

  Or she could be terrified.

  "What should I expect of this particular room? The usual or?" she asked.

  "I thought you wanted to be surprised?" he said.

  She went quiet, but he could tell the not knowing was killing her. Luckily, she didn't have to wait long for her answer. After Victoria returned with their drinks, the single light in the adjoining glass room flickered and he motioned for Steph to sit on the deep purple, velvet couch in the center of the small room.

  He sat down beside her and waited patiently, knowing this could very well be his final moment with Stephanie. The moment she would run out, and do her best to relegate the strange sensation that she knew him to the deepest recesses of her mind. And that, he reminded himself despite the sudden twinge he felt to the contrary, was a good thing.

  A very good thing.

  The lights came up on the other side of the glass wall, and a woman, completely naked with firm, round breasts walked into the room followed by two men, each of whom wore only their boxers, though it was clear to see their waiting need.

  Without a word, one of the men chained the woman up by her wrists to the cuffs hanging from the ceiling.

  He heard Steph suck in a breath beside him and was on the point of turning to speak to her when one of the men grabbed a paddle from the wall and smacked the woman's round backside so hard that a red stripe was already visible against her creamy skin.

  The other man, in turn, grabbed nipple clamps from the table and latched them onto the woman's stiff peaks, setting them so tightly that they could see the place where the woman bit down on her lip to distract herself from the pain.

  "Does this meet your needs?" he asked, his voice low and raspy, and he watched from the corner of his eye as one of the men reeled back and spanked the woman again, hard, while the other man wasted no time, positioning himself in front of her and sliding into her waiting heat.

  Steph didn't answer. Instead, her gaze focused on the man with the paddle as he reeled back again and smacked the woman's flank with the resounding crack. This time, the connection hit so hard that Steph jerked in surprise.

  He opened his mouth, ready to ask if she'd had enough, but then he heard the faint thrumming of her pulse, still strong and faster than ever before. Her breath had hitched, and as he turned to face her in the darkness, he noted the way her pupils had dilated.

  She was enjoying this.

  Then, as the paddle dropped to the ground with a clatter and the second man took the woman from behind, he watched as Steph's knees began to quake, her drink sloshing over onto her shirt, and one thing became all too clear.

  He had underestimated this woman.

  Chapter 3

  The icy liquid coursing down the front of her half shirt sent her sitting upright in shock.

  What the hell was going on here? And by here, she didn't even mean right in front of her. She meant on the inside. The muscles in her body were tense even as her mind felt loose and languid. Images of Phin came barreling in, one after another, and she could no more stop them than she could turn into a bird and fly out of this place.

  Phin, with his hands in her hair as he worked her hungry mouth over his stiff cock.

  Phin, golden eyes blazing as he took her from behind, sliding in so deep, she ached with it.

  Phin, groaning her name a second before he buried his face between her thighs, licking and sucking and-

  "Stephanie?"

  His clipped British accent should've sounded anything but fitting in this environment. So proper when something so dirty...so improper was happening. Instead, though, it only amped her need higher. And there was no mistaking the grit in his voice that hadn't been there when they'd met only half an hour before. That was new. And she couldn't help but wonder if she was the cause or if it was just the scene before them.

  "Huh?"

  She squirmed in her seat, leaning forward to set her drink down, trying not to let her hand shake as she did.

  "Would you like to go now? Maybe this isn't your cup of tea, yeah?"

  She opened her mouth to agree. To tell him, hell yes, she wanted to leave, and then run out the door like her ass was on fire.

  But she couldn't make herself form the words. Deep down inside, this pulsing need was spreading through her, from between her legs, out to her limbs. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay and figure out what this terrifying, all-encompassing need was. To explore it and feel it and let herself live it.

  When her fiancé Greg passed away, she had shut down. In fact, until the past few weeks, she'd been certain that the part of her needing and wanting companionship had died with him. Sure, she was still fun and adventurous, but sex? The touch of a man? Just felt too intimate now that the only man she'd ever loved was gone. But here, in this moment, with this man who had infiltrated her dreams, she ached.

  "No, I-I want to stay," she murmured, her voice so low he strained toward her to hear it.

  When he did, she got a whiff of his masculine scent and it took all her strength not to lean in and breathe him in more deeply.

  She was adventurous, but she wouldn't be so bold without having some sort of sign from him. This was new ground for her, being in a BDSM club, and with a stranger no less. It could be that this was par for the course. Maybe, once he left here, he'd head to another room and watch another couple do...whatever it was these people were doing.

  The thought sent an irrational bolt of jealousy coursing through her and she shoved it aside. Ridiculous. All of it. He wasn't her golden lion. He was just a man, and one she didn't know from Adam, to boot.

  She had almost convinced herself to change her mind. To offer him a quick ap
ology for bothering him and walking out, never to look back. But then, suddenly, another image thrust itself into the forefront of her mind.

  She was flat on her back, arms and legs spread wide. Her ankles were tethered with a rope, her eyes covered with a blindfold. A naked Phin knelt between her legs, penetrating gaze eating her alive as he cradled his massive cock.

  "Tell me you want me to fuck you, Stephanie. Say the words and it's yours."

  Real life Stephanie groaned and couldn't swallow back the whispered, "Yes."

  And when real life Phin didn't even cock his head in question...when he simply kept his gaze locked on the scene in front of them and slid one hand over to cover her thigh with utter and complete confidence, she didn't stop him. Her throat went dry, adrenaline coursed through her. She came alive.

  He's a stranger.

  You're in public.

  What the hell are you doing?

  All thoughts that came in rapid succession, all handily squashed by another.

  Yes.

  It was like it was all happening in slow motion; skillful fingers trailing up her bare leg, higher and higher in the dim light, sending skitters of pleasure running through her as dream Phin leaned over her, pressing the thick head of his cock to her achy wetness. Real Phin cupping her gently through her underwear, grinding his palm in exactly the right spot as dream Phin fucked her, slow and hard.

  "Oh, god," she murmured. The trio in front of her had taken things to the next level. The spankings had turned into alternating punishment and reward. For each slap of the paddle, there was a stroke. A finger sliding deep, or a long lick before the punishment resumed. One of the men had pulled out and was sliding his cock up and down between the woman's ass cheeks, his face a mask of tense concentration.

  Her heart was racing so fast, she wondered if Phin could hear it, but that thought fizzed away as his fingers slipped beneath her panties.

  "Fuck," he growled, encountering her dripping heat.

  For an instant, she waited for shame to come and steal this from her. Some sort of embarrassment at her obvious need for this stranger in a public place. But it never came. Instead, the desire swelled even higher, dragging her under like a tidal wave. She covered his hand with her own, and forgot everything she ever knew...everything society had ever told her about sex and how a lady behaved. Instead, she closed her eyes and let herself feel.