Bitten By The Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Vampire Romance

by Jasmine White

  Chloe thought of Sharla’s words to her earlier that night. Just understand that women who hang around him wind up dead. I would know.

  “Darling,” he said. “Let me be with you. And if you change your mind later, then at least we have this night.”

  Chloe knew she should be frightened. She was frightened. But she kissed him anyway. When they parted, his fingertips went to her throat. With his fingertip, he traced her vein. She felt his skin resting lightly at the place where she felt the pulse. She wondered if he could hear that throbbing. Of course, he probably could. She tried to slow her breathing, but her heartbeat accelerated.

  “Will it hurt?” she asked.

  “It will,” he said. “Like a pinprick of pain.” He kissed her neck, following the trail his finger had made a moment before. When his lips parted he licked her. Chloe closed her eyes and tried to relax her body against him, though it took all her effort. “Chloe,” he whispered, lips against her flesh, the coolness of his canines touching her flesh. “Don’t fear me, I love you.”

  She was aware that his hands moved, one to hold her the back of her head against his palm, the other to rest on the middle of her back, supporting her. A lick against her now heated flesh turned into gentle sucking, eliciting an animal grown from her throat. And then he bit her.

  The pain brought tears to her eyes, deeper and longer than she expected. As her blood rushed up to her skin to meet his tongue, she felt something, a pull so strong it felt like being struck with lightening, her nerves and senses being heated from a fire within. The drink, as he called it, could only have been seconds, but for Chloe it was hours. She was caught in pleasure so deep that it involved every part of her being.

  When he pulled away, she felt slightly dizzy. Michael pulled away from her, licking his lips. His eyes glossy, his cheeks filled with the most gorgeous blush.

  “Ah. Sweet one,” he whispered, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Let me love you.”

  She nodded yes. She reached back to unzip her dress as he started to discard his own clothes. Sitting there, with the softness of the rug beneath her, naked, she felt vulnerable and full beneath his stare, ready to partake in his passion. With some shock, she realized that she was no longer scared of him. There was no part of her that wasn’t ready to yield, to give herself fully and feel all the things that he could give her.

  He smiled. Of course Michael knew her thoughts and feelings now. He could read her mind. There was another part of the mythology that was true.

  My thoughts are with you now, he told her.

  With her face cupped in his hands, he poured a litany of thoughts into her. How he saw her, how he loved her. How there were days when his heart was filled with fear. So many things that she couldn’t even comprehend them all at one. But what surprised her was all the emotions she took in. His life was full of darkness and things that haunted him, but what he felt for her was full and light and gave her hope.

  His kisses on her skin prickled her body with heat. He took his time exploring her with his tongue, soothing her with his caresses. It felt like she hardly had time to give him all the attention that she wanted to. Her hands strayed to his stomach, letting her fingers trace the dips and curves of each muscle, her body thrilling to each move. She kissed his lips, his chest, even as he teased her.

  When she looked in his eyes she saw something that she could only define as joy. She felt it too. There was no need for reserve between them no, no more hiding. Only now, when the two of them were letting go, did she realize how hard it had been to hold her control when she was around him.

  She moaned the moment he entered her. Matching his rhythm, she held him and watched the passion in his eyes, the changes in his breathing as they both moved towards the moment of crisis. She came first, but he continued to move with her until, moments later, he found his own release.

  The Final Chapter

  Michael had promised her that he would take some time off after the charity ball. What she hadn’t expected was that he arranged for the two of them to go on vacation. A private jet took them to a secluded island in the Pacific. He told her that he owned the entire island, and that they would be alone. The house mansion was set on a hill, with the view of the ocean below. She was aware of the security, cameras and guards who were assigned to monitor the perimeter of the home.

  Their days were spent in solitude, enjoying each other. Late afternoons on the beach, long nights in bed, late breakfasts on a terrace overlooking the ocean, and all the lovemaking that she could ask for anytime between. He told her about the many lives that he lived before, including how he came to be made vampire, and how his master had left him to die. It seemed like a story to her, the stuff of movies. But she listened and imagined it clearly in her mind. It was clear to her that despite all the things that he had seen and done, his life had been lonely in its own way.

  She cringed when he told her about Emerson’s experience, the pain and death that he and the doctor had caused together, despite the great things that arose from it. All of these experiences were part of him, the blood and anger and ugliness. She could not have him partially, with only the pretty parts outside. She had to take him wholesale with all of his defects.

  Chloe knew the beauty that her life would include if she took him up on his offer. She wondered what ugliness might exist for her. She would take blood into herself at some point. The serum would help her to abstain, but she didn’t feel it realistic to believe that she would never kill. She had to weigh that against how important the lives of others might be. When she became vampire, she would need to give up many of the relationships she had, or at least, be prepared to do so after a number of years. It was much to consider, and she wasn’t sure how long she would need to be sure.

  “There is a selfishness to this kind of existence,” Sharla told her.

  “There is selfishness in all nature,” Michael reminded her. “The drive to survive.”

  Michael explained to her so many things that she had not understood. Little things fell into place that she’d wondered about: how he seemed to suddenly appear behind her, for one. He confessed to her about compulsion and the fact that he had used it on her before. “I don’t want to lie to you about anything,” he said. “And I won’t ever use compulsion on you again, unless I’m doing it to relieve pain.”

  As they spoke, he also broached the subject of Quinn with her, and the fact that he had actually seen and spoken with him that day outside the dress shop.

  “I haven’t even thought of Quinn in a long time, so I don’t know what reason he would have to follow me around.”

  “He told me that his parents died. Do you remember that?” he asked.

  “I do. He came home and found them dead. It was very sad. After that, he was never the same. We were seniors at the time. He went away the following summer and I never saw him again. We used to check in on each other, and it was my understanding he was going to be going to college out in Los Angeles. That meant the end of us as a couple, but we were just kids, so it was never incredibly serious between us.”

  “I believe that one of my kind is compelling him,” Michael said. “So when we get back, I want you to still be careful,” he said.

  “I will,” she said, and kissed him. “I don’t know what that could be about.”

  Chloe felt strange when she arrived home from vacation. Everything looked different; the city seemed more vibrant and alive. She took notice to the lights against the nighttime sky and the slant of sunlight filtering around the buildings downtown. At work, she and Michael returned to some shadow of their previous relationship. The fact that they were a couple eased the tension between them, and it was easier to work with him. This was the opposite of what she expected, and it was a pleasant surprise.

  After work, she went upstairs to the penthouse some nights. On others he came back to the apartment with her. On the rare days when she still needed a ride to work, Michael picked her up himself. Sharla still had guards stationed aro
und her place, though no sightings of Quinn or anyone else were reported.

  About a month after Chloe and Michael’s return home, she began to sense tension in him. Time was passing, and though he didn’t push, she knew he wanted an answer. How could she blame him? If she said no, things would end between them quickly. And if she accepted, the end of her old life—and the start of something new—was right in front of her.

  On one night, when she was particularly tired, Chloe told him that she wanted to go home alone and to bed early. The weight of her decision was wearing on her, and she felt the need for a few hours away from him.

  “Nothing’s wrong, then?” he asked, lips on hers, his hands resting against her hips.

  “Not at all. But I need rest, and neither of us will have any if I stay.”

  “If you insist,” he said. “But tomorrow night, darling, spend the night here.”

  She smiled. “It’s a deal.”

  *

  It was still light outside, and rather than have Adrian or Michael drive her home, she decided to take the train halfway. From there she walked to the farmer’s market. She bought herself a bouquet of peonies and some apples, along with squash and tomatoes to cook later in the week. Her habit used to be to go every week, but she realized it had been quite a while since she had done so. The springtime warmth was already beginning to give way to summer, and it would soon be too hot to walk anywhere comfortably.

  For once, Chloe had remembered to close all the windows and leave her draperies pulled shut. Once the flowers were arranged in a vase and her food put away, she wandered into the bathroom and took off her clothes. She felt sticky and craved a long, warm bath.

  An hour or so later, she walked into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As much as she did want to go to bed, she was still a bit tense, and decided that some television would help relax her a little bit.

  As she walked into the living room, she stopped in her tracks.

  Sitting cross legged in her favorite chair was a man that she was positive she had never seen before. His hulking shoulders moved almost imperceptibly as he leaned forward. The window beside him was open, drapes shifting with the warmth of a gentle breeze.

  “So lovely to see you again, Chloe Bishop,” he said, his voice a preternatural hiss. “Though I made very sure that you wouldn’t remember me. My name is Abel.”

  ***

  It wasn’t very often that Michael ignored his instincts. He had the very strong feeling that he should tell Chloe to stay with him that night, or at least go to her apartment with her for the night. He knew that she was still thinking about whether or not she should take that one very final step with her, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d been honest about the benefits and drawbacks of becoming a vampire. He didn’t want her to look back one day and be sorry that she had given up her human life. And at the same time he was beginning to grow impatient. When he told Sharla that, he smiled at her.

  “You could just grab her and get that done with. But since you’re giving her choice, then you have to give her the space that goes with it. Six weeks is no time for you to wait, you’re just an impatient little prick. It’s one way or the other, none of this in-between shit,” she said. At the time she was perching on the edge of his desk, legs crossed, filing her fingernails. “I’m not sure how she continues to put up with you.”

  Michael was about to say something, but decided it wouldn’t help matters. Sharla had always been the one to do the walking away, after all. He slept fretfully that night, with dreams that were filled with people that he hadn’t seen for centuries before. His old kills haunted him in his sleep, and it was their hateful embrace that kept him mindful of the sins he committed, and continued to do.

  He woke later than usual, at seven in the morning. At seven thirty, Michael was dressed and speeding towards Chloe’s house.

  When he got there, the door was standing open.

  A bouquet of peonies lay on the floor, among the shattered glass of the vase. A chair in the living room was overturned, and there were other signs of struggle. Before he searched the house he already knew that he wouldn’t find her.

  On the bathroom mirror, scrawled in red lipstick was a message that was meant strictly for Michael:

  I HAVE WHAT YOU WANT. ONE HOUR. MEET ME AT THE CHRYSALIS BUILDING. BRING THE SERUM OR SHE DIES.

  *

  When Chloe woke, she was laying on the floor. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth gagged. Morning sunlight slanted in through the windows. She was laying on the carpeted floor of a high rise office building. From her vantage point, she could see the tops of downtown skyscrapers.

  “You’re waking,” her captor said.

  Chloe followed the sound of the voice and turned her head to the left.

  “There you are, pet,” Abel said. There was a sort of whining sound to his laughter. In her apartment, as she struggled to get away, she had pulled at the cloth he used to cover his face. Jamming her thumbs into his eyes, she had briefly touched the scars that covered his face. She realized, looking up, that something was wrong with his mouth, the only thing that was not covered by black, satin fabric. It seemed to droop downward, frozen in place. It didn’t move when he spoke.

  “You might as well know,” he said, “where we met before. It’s actually a favorite tale of mine.” He rubbed his hands together. “A few years ago, I was out, in the night. Hungry. Needing blood, badly. My scars burn again when I’m hungry.” His fists clenched, arms shivering.

  “When I’m like that, I can’t think. I can’t hunt really, not in the way I should. I came upon a house. Husband and wife cuddled together on the couch, half asleep. It was nothing to break into that house through the kitchen. I drank from them, taking each drop, bit by bit. If I’d had any senses at all, I would have smelled the two of you, in the basement of the house.

  Quinn must have heard me. He came up the stairs with his father’s gun. You tried to crawl out of the basement window. I tied the both of you up. I had fed by then, my mind was returning to me. Sure, I could have drained you of food. But that was no fun. And though I can travel in the day, these burns itch in the sunlight.” He paused, and the sound he made was probably supposed to be a laugh, but sounded like a howl of pain. Abel shook his head, as if to erase his unpleasant thought.

  “I can always use humans, who can go out in the day, to do certain things for me. Watch my enemies. Keep me safe. So it was very easy for me to compel you both. And I gave Quinn a false memory that you would vouch for; he was studying at your house when he came home and saw his parent’s dead. Funny thing about teenagers. Their brains are still developing, and while they believe whatever it is they are compelled to think or do, sometimes they aren’t quite right afterwards. You seemed to reject compulsion to some extent. But Quinn just wasn’t really right after his.”

  Chloe moaned. Tears sprang to her eyes, fear and frustration.

  “I have Quinn do things from me time to time, but I mainly let you go, just keeping tabs in case I had uses for a pretty female,” he grinned. “How could I have known that one day you would lead me back to the door of my greatest enemy? See, I was one of Dr. Emerson’s experiments that didn’t quite take. Can you imagine what it was like to see Michael and Sharla living the way they do? No scars, no pain, and no shame of what they are? And to know that the serum they have was virtually a fountain of immortality while I am… this?” he hissed.

  ***

  Dr. Emerson was working in his lab. Michael came in, pressed the code to close to seal the soundproof door behind him.

  “You have exactly five minutes to explain to me how this could happen,” Michael yelled.

  “What’s happened?” Emerson asked, frowning.

  “One of your failures has survived and is loose. He has Chloe!”

  Emerson remained cool. “Well, that’s highly unlikely.”

  “But you mean it’s not impossible.”

  Emerson paused before replying. “Before I knew
that the serum would be safe to use on you and Sharla, there were several subjects that didn’t make it. I gave them project names. Adam and Cain were incinerated here on the property. Abel’s remains were dumped into the ocean.”

  “Why?”

  Emerson shrugged. “The incinerator wasn’t working, and we had to find someone qualified to fix it. In the meantime, I needed him disposed of quickly

  “Well then he wasn’t quite dead.”

  “With what happened to him, he should have been.”

  “Mother fucker, you have got to be kidding me! I swear this had better be the only one. He wants the serum.”

  Emerson smiled. “That I can fix for you.”

  ***

  Chloe blinked.

  Abel was walking around her. She wasn’t sure what he was about to do, if he were going to kick her, or perhaps pick her up and throw her from one of the windows. He was huge. His figure seemed to cut off the sunlight. She tried to calm her breathing because she knew the predator could taste her fear. “Where is your boyfriend?” he asked. “I hope he doesn’t plan to stand us up. That would be quite unfortunate for you.”

  At that moment, Chloe heard a ding. The sound of an elevator coming up.

  Heart pounding in her chest, she nearly held her breath. Michael was coming. She could feel him. With all of her being, it was the most joyous and terrifying moment she had ever known.

  “Ah,” Abel said. “There we are.”

  *

  Michael stepped out into the empty office space, and he felt Chloe long before he saw her. He reached out to her telepathically.

  My darling, I am here, and this is about to be over. Whatever you hear, look away.

  When he reached Chloe, she was lying on the middle of the floor, facing the windows, her back to him. Abel stood over her, legs apart, hands at his sides.

  “Long time no see,” Abel said. “I bent you don’t remember me. Last time we saw each other, I was strapped to a gurney in Emerson’s lab. If you can even call it that. For me, it was a torture chamber.”