The Vampire's Favorite
Page 1
The Vampire’s Favorite
The Vampyr, Book 2
V.R. Cumming
Published by Bone Diggers Press, Clayton, GA
Cover by L.J. Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations
ISBN 978-1-943465-14-9
Description:
Jason Bellmont used to be a typical athlete. Tall, strong, and disciplined, he was the epitome of a college basketball star, and had the sexual appetite to match.
Until he met Eric Logan. Overnight, Jason found himself immersed in a dark, dangerous world, a world where he found the kind of love he never dreamed of having, and the worst heartache he would ever live through.
Months later, Jason returns to his family's home in Crookston, Minnesota, to heal after a crippling blow bound him to a wheelchair. There, he and Eric are captured by the vicious vampire Oriana, whose plans for reuniting her former mistress' territory have more of an impact on Jason's life than even he knows, plans that could destroy his family if Jason can't find a way to regain his strength and crush Oriana once and for all.
The Vampyr Series
Book 1: The Vampire’s Pet
Book 2: The Vampire’s Favorite
Book 3: The New Vampire
Stay tuned for more stories set in the world of the Vampyr!
Book 4: The Master Vampire
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License Notes:
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is purely a coincidence. Actual localities and entities are mentioned solely for the purpose of adding realism to the story.
Table of Contents
Part One: The Long Journey Home
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Part Two: Awakening
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Part Three: The Winnowing Field
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
About the Author
Part One: Long Journey Home
Suppose one of you has one hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” --Luke 15:4-6 (New International Version)
Prologue
Four years ago
One humid day the June after his sixteenth birthday, Jason Bellmont eased his aging Silverado to a stop along the curb near an upscale apartment complex on the outskirts of Crookston, Minnesota. He glanced at the parking lot’s varied assortment of Beemers, Mercedes, and other high end sedans and grimaced. God, he hated English. If he’d managed better than a low C average over the year, his mom wouldn’t have made him get a tutor and he wouldn’t be stuck here in the middle of rich asshole wannabes instead of on the court, where he belonged.
He eyed the worn basketball resting in the passenger’s side floorboard. It was a great day for hoops, muggy, yeah, but clear, bright. The sky was that endless blue his dad loved, deep and rich. The perfect farmer’s sky.
Jason sighed and snagged one strap of the backpack he used as a book bag at school. Might as well get it over with. At least Mr. Ridgeway was young enough to relate. He probably wouldn’t mind at all if Jason stared out the window, wishing he was anywhere but there.
The security guard stopped Jason at the gate and made him show his driver’s license, then waved him through. Mr. Ridgeway had warned him about that, so Jason didn’t bother getting ticked. What good would it do? He’d rather spend his time thinking about basketball or maybe the pink lace underwear Jenny Danver had flashed when she’d parted her silky thighs for him last weekend. Next weekend, he’d wheedle and beg and coax her into letting him run a finger under that lace and along her sweet little pussy, and maybe the weekend after that, she’d let him kneel between her legs and lick his tongue over her, one soaking wet inch at a time.
God, he loved girls, loved their bumps and curves, loved the sultry peek of hot eyes from beneath flirty eyelashes. He loved to kiss them and touch them and make them come all over his mouth and hands and dick, and, God, yes, he loved to be in them, stroking his cock in and out of their slick holes whenever he could talk one into letting him in.
He didn’t fool himself into believing he loved Jenny. She was just one in a long line of girls who wanted to scratch a notch on their bedpost. I slept with the star of Crookston High’s basketball team or some shit. Girls like that served their purpose, decorating his arm when he went out, filling his time when basketball didn’t. He wasn’t delusional enough to believe they weren’t using him the same way.
One day, though, he’d meet the girl he was supposed to be with, and all that time he’d spent learning how to please other girls would be put to good use. His woman would never have to know how many girls he’d banged, and he’d never have to tell her that sometimes, being with a girl wasn’t quite enough to make him shoot his wad, no matter how delicious and tight her cunt was.
He took the stairs to Mr. Ridgeway’s apartment two at a time, checked the number against the directions he’d tucked into the pocket of his shorts, and rapped on the door.
“Just a minute,” a muffled voice called. Footsteps padded across what sounded like a carpeted floor. The doorknob rattled and turned, and Mr. Ridgeway opened the door wide. He wore a towel draped low around narrow hips and carried another one in his hand, drying his short, dark brown hair. “Hey, Jason. Sorry about that. I’m running a little behind this afternoon.”
Jason sucked in a breath and jerked his eyes away from the sleek muscles of Mr. Ridgeway’s bare chest. Panic beat at him, squeezing his heart into a tight knot. He hadn’t had time to steel himself against that, hadn’t had time to prepare. Shit. What would he do if his dick betrayed him and he got a hard on in the middle of a tutoring session? Wouldn’t that be a kicker. He could almost hear the whispers now. Jason Bellmont, all star basketball player, is queer, they’d say. He pops wood any time he’s around a naked guy.
His dad would kill him.
Mr. Ridgeway stepped back, a friendly smile lighting his face. “Come on in. I thought we’d set up in the kitchen clo
se to food and drink. I remember what it was like to be a teenager and hungry all the time. You’re still growing, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” Jason squeezed past his tutor, careful not to so much as touch the man as he entered. “Doc says I could grow another three or four inches, maybe.”
Mr. Ridgeway shut the door and walked toward the back of the apartment. “And you’re what now, about six one?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jason pressed a finger and thumb over his eyes, trying to block out the sight of water sliding down Mr. Ridgeway’s back, pooling at the base of his spine, and the twitch of firm ass muscles under a thick, white towel. God, it was gonna be a long summer if this happened every time he came over. How the hell was he going to get through it without Mr. Ridgeway figuring everything out? And why the hell hadn’t his tutor met him at the door fully clothed?
“Are you ok, Jason?”
Jason’s eyes snapped open. He met Mr. Ridgeway’s vivid blue eyes evenly. “Sorry, sir. Forgot my sunglasses.”
“Stop with the sir. Please. We’re not teacher and student here. We’re friends working on getting you through high school with good grades so you can earn a basketball scholarship for college.” Mr. Ridgeway tapped a hand on a round table set to one side of the kitchen, across from sleek counters and metal appliances. “Leave your stuff here. Why don’t you hang out with me while I get dressed? You can tell me how your summer’s been so far.”
“Ah.”
Jason scrambled for an excuse not to follow Mr. Ridgeway and came up empty. Holy hell. This was way worse than the locker room. There, he was distracted by conversation and horseplay. Here, one on one with a guy who was barely a handful of years older than him and naked to boot, how was he going to control himself? Maybe he could just…not look.
He shrugged and dropped his backpack on the floor next to the table. “Sure.”
“Great. My bedroom’s back here. Are you still dating Sarah Mulligan?”
“No, ah, Mr. Ridgeway.”
Mr. Ridgeway shot a grin over his bare shoulder. “Mike. We’re friends here, remember?”
Jason swallowed. Yeah, sure. Friends. He fixed the word in his mind and followed Mr. Ridgeway’s twitching ass into the bedroom, and stopped in the doorway. He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, aiming for casual, and focused on a painting hung on the wall across from him.
Mr. Ridgeway rummaged through the drawers of a dark-stained wooden bureau. “So Sarah Mulligan went the way of the dodo. I can’t believe you’re not dating someone else.”
“I am, sir. Ah, Mike. Jenny Danver.” The painting was of a woman lying on her back, one arm slung over her head, her breasts bared to the gaze of a man bending over her. Jason squinted, trying to make out the details. What were they doing? He shook his head and dragged his attention back to the conversation. “We’ve not been dating long.”
Mike grinned and draped the towel he was drying his hair with around his shoulders. “As I recall, any date is a long time in teenage years. You want to sit? Bed’s comfortable.”
Jason glanced at the king-sized bed. God, it looked comfortable. Midnight blue spread, huge pillows leaning against the headboard, and all that space. He was still stuck in a double at home and wished every night for another six inches in either direction so he could sprawl.
But he wasn’t at home. He was at a teacher’s house and his ma would kill him if he didn’t stick to his best manners. “I’m fine here, sir.”
“You seem uncomfortable. I figured all that time you spent around semi-naked guys in the locker room would’ve inured you to scrawny ol’ me.”
The breath wheezed out of Jason’s chest. “Excuse me, sir?”
“You seem uncomfortable,” Mike repeated. “Come on, Jason. It’s just us guys here. Sit down. Relax. We’re spending the summer together. It won’t kill you to get to know me. I’m not the stick in the mud the kids at school accuse me of being.”
Jason ducked his head, hiding a grin. “Actually, they say you have a stick up your butt. Respectfully, sir.”
“Cut it with the sirs.”
Mike tugged the towel off and dropped it on the floor, and Jason sagged into the doorframe. The other towel followed, leaving Mike nude from head to toe, his perfectly proportioned body a tease Jason couldn’t quite resist. Heat gathered low in his gut and his dick, ever ready for sex, rose to half mast. Jason’s gaze caught on Mike’s thick cock, nestled in a beautiful patch of dark curls.
“Like what you see?”
Jason clenched his eyes tightly shut. Shit. He’d gotten caught, and eyeing a teacher, no less. There’d be hell to pay now. No more basketball, no more hopes for a scholarship to a D1 school, no more girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to ride them hard. He’d be a pariah, relegated to the fringes of society, and his parents…
Jason’s heart flipped over and thudded against his sternum. His parents would never speak to him again.
“Answer my question, Jason. Do you like what you see?”
“No, sir. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was looking. I didn’t mean to stare.”
Quiet footsteps swished along the carpet and a gentle hand touched Jason’s jaw. “I can smell your arousal, Jason. I can smell it when you lie, too. Look at me.”
Jason opened his eyes and stared down into Mike’s softly glowing eyes. “Please don’t say anything, Mr. Ridgeway. I swear, I’ll leave and find another tutor, but please don’t tell my parents I got hard around you. It’d kill them to know I like guys.”
Mike’s thumb tapped Jason’s cheek. “It’s why we’re interested in you. You’re everything we could want, strong, disciplined, sexual.” Mike smiled and his hand slipped away. “I would’ve preferred to wait until you were of age to test you.”
Jason gaped at him. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to, not yet. For now, please know that whatever happens here is between you and me. Your family will never know. Neither will your friends at school or the other teachers. No one at church will find out. Your secrets are safe here, Jason.” Mike backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed. He splayed his legs wide and placed his hands on his knees, perfectly framing his growing erection. “I bet you have fantasies, things you’ve dreamed of doing with another man.”
A shiver ran through Jason. Christ, yeah, he had fantasies, tons of them. He’d never dreamed about doing a teacher, though, not once, not even Mike, who was just a substitute and barely out of college. They were off limits, even in his dream world where nobody cared if he wanted to get it on with a guy and a girl at the same time, or just a guy, for hours and hours on end.
“Tell me what you want,” Mike said, and his voice, so even before, was low and hoarse and needy. “Do you want to kiss me?”
Jason shook his head as a slow smile curved his mouth. He toed his shoes off and stripped down to his skin, dropping his clothes in an untidy pile on the beige carpeting. “Maybe later. Lie down on the bed on your stomach. I want to play with your ass first.”
Mike smiled and that odd glow lighting his blue eyes deepened. “There’s lube in the nightstand.”
Jason eyed the lube. Yeah, maybe he’d use that, too. Later, after he’d played a while.
He pushed Mike down on the bed and set about making fantasy number one a reality.
Chapter One
The present
Our plane landed at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport on the last day of May, just weeks after Gianna fell under the clawed hand of an insane vampire and not quite four months after she married Eric and the three of us became one.
Eric maneuvered me off the plane, clearing the way for my wheelchair, and rested his hand on my shoulder as we debarked.
I’d left Minnesota a brash teenager, arrogant and full of myself, dead certain I knew exactly where my future was taking me. I was out of my teenage years by less than two weeks and already regretted leaving that certainty behind. If I’d had any idea when I’d
left home what I’d find in Georgia, maybe I never would’ve gone. Maybe if I’d stayed in Minnesota, I wouldn’t have ended up a cripple with no future to speak of outside the man walking quietly by my side.
Eric’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “Marco says Gianna’s fine. Still out, thank God.”
I grunted. “Thought you hated talking to him mind to mind.”
“Yeah, try telling him that,” he muttered.
I twisted my mouth, hiding a grin. It wasn’t that Elizabet’s favorite and Eric had a love-hate relationship, exactly. More like an I want to fuck you and your favorite attitude on Marco’s part countered by a stay away from my ass and my fuck buddy on Eric’s. He nearly always gave in whether he was in the mood or not. Marco had things we needed, a memory filled with a lifetime of service to Elizabet and the Vampyr, and blood so rich, a single sip strengthened the taker. He refused to share either with Eric except through sex.
I figured Marco insisted on sex because that was the only way he could get a piece of Eric. True enough. Eric resented having to take male lovers, for the most part. He did his best to hide it from me, a fucking useless gesture since I could see right through his mind any time I wanted to.
I didn’t count, though. He considered me a part of his family, and as his favorite, the pet who’d help him control his burgeoning vampire nature, maybe I was. We were friends, at least, and bound together by our mutual love of Gianna. Anybody looking at our relationship from the outside would think we were up to our balls in some kind of crazy love triangle. It wasn’t like that, though. I loved Eric and had felt his love often enough to know it was real. We were lucky it had worked out that way, lucky because he’d needed my strength, the same way I’d needed his.
And now, his strength was all we had between us.