Holiday Bites: A Collection of Vampire Paranormal Romances

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Holiday Bites: A Collection of Vampire Paranormal Romances Page 5

by Michele Bardsley


  “Oh, hi.” Val grabbed her tote and tried to find the conference schedule. “Am I late for the first workshop?”

  “No, no,” Tabitha said. “We won’t need you to participate in the panels. For that matter, we’ve replaced you as a presenter at tonight’s award banquet.”

  Val was stunned. They were ousting her from the panels and the banquet activities today? She nearly choked on her outrage, but she managed to ask, “Why?”

  Tabitha’s eyes flashed with disgust. “We don’t need you mucking up a respectable conference with your idea of a publicity stunt. Madra Milton complained to me personally along with at least a dozen others. We support the romance industry and its authors, even if you don’t.”

  Vitriol edged every word the woman spoke. Floundering in shock, Val glanced at Eve. Her friend stared daggers at the conference chair.

  Tabitha returned the glare. “And you are?”

  “Eve Moore,” she responded. “I’m engaged to Steven Jones, who writes as Adora LaFortune.”

  Val enjoyed watching Tabitha blanch. Steven was no small potatoes in the romance world. His erotica novels were New York Times bestsellers.

  “We’re looking forward to his presentation this evening. And we are thrilled he’s accepted keynote speaker for next year’s conference.” Tabitha cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. “I hope that this unfortunate event with Ms. Carter will not affect his opinion of our organization.”

  “You’ll have to ask him,” said Eve.

  “What is going on?” asked Val. “I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, please,” snapped Tabitha. A sheet of paper was ripped from the clipboard and tossed onto the table. “You are welcome to stay for the conference and of course, we will cover your expenses, but you will not be invited back. Ever.”

  Tabitha turned up her nose and marched away, leaving Val the evidence of her so-called crime.

  “Oh my God,” said Val as she picked up the flyer. She started at the color photo of herself bound and gagged. “Who did this? Why?”

  But she knew why. She’d pissed off the wrong people and they’d gotten revenge. She tore up the paper and left the pieces on her half-finished breakfast. Her stomach felt sour as shame heated her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” said Eve. “It was a terrible thing to do.”

  “Was it?” asked Valentine. She tossed a twenty onto the table and picked up her purse and tote.

  “Forget this bullshit,” said Eve as she put another twenty on the table. “We need mall therapy.” She rounded the table and grasped Val’s shoulder. “I have a credit card that seriously needs to be abused.”

  “Okay,” said Valentine. She wasn’t going to run away. She would regroup and return. She would stay for the rest of the conference with her head high and shoulders straight.

  Damn them all.

  “I’M ONLY HERE because I won’t let these bitches deprive me of food,” said Valentine as she poked at the rubbery chicken. The over-steamed vegetables looked about as appetizing as a pile of dog crap. She hadn’t eaten a bite, but she was hoping for a decent dessert.

  She sat at a front table near the stage with Eve and Steven, who had yet to show his fangs or his bloodlust. However, he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, either. No one else had bothered to sit with them, not even those who’d had reserved seats at the table.

  As promised, Eve had whisked Val away for a day of shopping, which included an emergency pedicure and a movie featuring Keanu Reeves. But not even mall therapy had cured Valentine’s anger. She was hurt, yes, but more so, she was really fucking furious. It didn’t take long to figure out who would create, print, and distribute the horrible flyers.

  She supposed, on some level, she deserved the punishment. If she made authors feel that humiliated and that exposed, well ... okay, she was sorry. She was already shutting down the blog. Now people would think it was because Madra Milton and her goon Dominic had shamed her into it.

  “Hi,” said a male voice. The voice had been issued by a tall, handsome, blue- eyed, sandy-haired man. Had Brad Pitt authorized clones? To her surprise, he pulled out the chair next to hers and sat in it.

  “Are you a model?” she asked. “Because if you are—”

  “This is my publicist,” interrupted Steven. “Michael Sanderson. Mike, this is Valentine Carter.”

  He grasped her hand and shook it. Wow. He was really gorgeous. “Hi, Valentine.”

  “Hey,” she said weakly.

  “Michael agreed to do a few evening appointments,” said Eve. “How did it go?”

  Michael’s grin was a little too wicked. “Perfectly.” He turned to Val. “I understand we have a date.”

  “Only if Eve wins her bet,” she said, refusing to be wooed by another pretty face.

  His brows rose questioningly, but she didn’t clarify her statement. Hoo-boy. Had it gotten hotter in here?

  The lights dimmed and Tabitha Johnson, crammed into a glittery blue dress, swept onto the stage. “Before we begin the festivities, ladies and gentlemen, our favorite author Madra Milton and our two-time Best Cover Model champion Dominic, would like a moment of your time.”

  She stepped away from the podium. Madra and Dominic walked onto the stage and took Tabitha’s place. “We are responsible for The Blog Bitch flyer circulating. I am bitter, you see, about my flagging career. Even though Ms. Carter’s reviews are biting and sometimes crass, they offer kernels of truth. I wanted to make her pay for pointing out to everyone the flaws of my writing.”

  Dominic leaned forward and spoke. “Madra and I have been friends for years. I am so sick of these romance conferences and prancing around rabid housewives that it pleased me to do something so mean.”

  Together, they said, “We are sorry, Ms. Carter. We apologize to the conference organizers and all the attendees for our hurtful joke.”

  They turned and left the stage. Utter silence befell the entire ballroom. Not even the murmur of voices or clanging of silverware interrupted the sudden, thick quiet.

  Tabitha stepped up to the microphone. “Well ... I ... my goodness.” She took a deep breath. “The Heart of Romance Readers conference would also like to extend our apologies to Ms. Carter. We ... we deeply regret any problems this may have caused to our attendees and presenters.” She smiled too brightly as she said, “Please, let’s continue with our program.”

  Stunned didn’t begin to describe how Valentine felt. She looked at Steven and Eve, who wore twin smug smiles. “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “I glamoured them,” said Michael. She turned to look at him. He leaned close. “You see, I’m a vampire.” He smiled and revealed very sharp, real-looking fangs.

  Val’s heart leapt to her throat. She looked at Steven, whose smile also revealed a set of shiny, white fangs. Then she looked at Eve. “I think ... I think I believe you.”

  “Come to the dark side,” said Eve, chuckling. “We have cookies.”

  “Are they chocolate?”

  “Duh.”

  Cautious now, she turned to face Michael once more. “I should be totally freakedout. I should. I mean, you’re a—”

  He kissed her. Wham! Lust did a dance all the way to her girly part, where it stayed, mixed up a batch of drinks, and issued invitations. Michael’s tongue dipped into hers and she heard a hallelujah chorus. Her body felt engulfed in fireworks.

  He let go of her lips only to brush his hot mouth across her neck. She quivered under the tender assault. “This is crazy,” she whispered.

  “I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he said, drawing away. “I want to explore what’s between us. Let me take you out for Valentine’s Day.”

  “But we can’t do dinner.” Her gaze went to his mouth. The fangs had receded.

  “I’ll watch you eat.” His eyes glittered with desire. “I’ll buy you two desserts. I’ll buy you champagne. Anything.”

  “Well,” she said, grinning, “if you’re throwing champagne into the deal ... how can I say n
o?”

  “I HAD A great time,” said Val as she unlocked her apartment door. She turned to look at Michael. He’d been a perfect gentleman all evening. He brought her roses, took her to an excellent restaurant where he ordered a very good champagne, and held her hand during the movie.

  It had been the best Valentine’s Day ever.

  Michael leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. The electricity that arced between them nearly stole her breath. The roses quaked in her arms. But he stepped back, his gaze lingering on her neck.

  “Would you like to come inside for a drink?” she asked. She wondered what it would be like to feel his fangs sink into her flesh. Excitement zipped into the pit of her stomach.

  “Another time,” he said. “We should take things slow, Val.”

  “Why?” Her body hummed with disappointment. She wanted him like she’d wanted no other man. Something about him magnetized her. She wanted to be closer to him, but didn’t dare step into his embrace. It was obvious he didn’t want to push her into anything she might regret. Or maybe he was the regretful one. What if he hadn’t had a good time and was trying to get away from her?

  Bullshit. Val swung open the door. The interior was pitch-black. Biting her lip, she turned once again to her date. “Would you mind walking me inside?”

  “Afraid of the dark?” he asked, clearly not believing she didn’t have enough courage to enter her apartment.

  “I’m not afraid of the dark,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

  Lust leapt into his gaze and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he walked past her into the apartment. She followed, shutting the door behind her.

  The snick of a lamp switch echoed and a pool of light encroached on the darkness. Michael had chosen to turn on the small lamp she kept on a side table. Most nights, she sat on the couch and read a book underneath its soft illumination.

  “I don’t see any boogey men,” said Michael.

  “You haven’t checked the bedroom.”

  “Val...”

  “Are you afraid?” she asked, smiling. “You’re a vampire. I’m a human. What could I possibly do to you?”

  “More than you think,” he responded. He headed into the hallway.

  Val dumped the roses and her hastily removed coat onto the couch then hurried to follow him. Michael had already entered her bedroom and flicked on the light. “Looks like you’ll be safe.” He turned to face her. “Even from me.”

  She shut the door behind her. “How about a little bet?” she asked. “You watch me undress and if you don’t want me by the time I’m done, I’ll let you leave.”

  “I want you right now,” he said. “But I’m trying to resist temptation.”

  “Why?”

  He looked away. “I didn’t want to tell you yet. I wanted you to get to know me.”

  He put his hands out in a pleading gesture. “I would never take advantage of you, Valentine. I like you very much.”

  “I like you, too, Michael.” She tried to decipher his expression. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “There’s something you need to remember.” He looked stricken. “I’m a rarity in the vampire world. I’ve had to hire call girls to be my ... er, meals because I cannot take blood without having sexual intercourse. I can’t have relationships because my condition requires stamina most humans don’t have.”

  She swallowed the knot clogging her throat as tears pricked her eyes. “You’re saying we can’t be together.”

  “Come here.” He opened his arms and she hurried into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “I want you, Valentine, and I hope that after you know the truth, you’ll want me, too.”

  She looked up at his tormented gaze. Suddenly mesmerized by the blue of his eyes, she felt herself tumbling backward in time. The hotel room. Dominic humiliating her. Michael appearing and asking her to consent to sex. Their coupling flashed by like a movie fast- forwarded. Intense. Hot. Later, he bathed her, put her to bed ... made her forget.

  “Why?” she asked as she stumbled out of his arms. She glared at him. “Why would you do that?”

  He looked at her pleadingly. “I thought you were a present.”

  “You thought I was a prostitute,” she corrected. “I’m not talking about the sex, you dolt! Why would you make me forget about what we shared?”

  He stared at her, his expression one of surprise. “Dominic’s drug made you willing. You were confused. I should’ve known that you were under duress, but I didn’t. I took advantage of you.”

  “You took what I offered,” she said simply. “Dominic is the one who really took advantage of me. And I let him. I was feeling down in the dumps about myself and that stupid conference.”

  Val wanted to kick her own ass. Dominic would’ve never gotten away with his shenanigans if she hadn’t let low self-esteem and pretty-boy bedazzlement affect her judgment. Now that her memory was restored, she wanted Michael even more. If he had only wanted sex from her, he wouldn’t have bothered dating her after getting it. He sure as hell wouldn’t be so worried about her feelings or insisting on taking things slow. He cared about her. And he obviously wanted to be more to her than just a one-night stand.

  “I don’t regret what happened between us,” she said. He looked boyish and uncertain, and her heart melted.

  “I’m glad,” said Michael. He reached out and grasped her hands. “I told you that I haven’t had relationships because my needs are too strong for most human females.”

  “And vampire females?”

  He grimaced. “There are no vampire women I wish to sleep with.”

  “If you have to have sex in order to feed,” she said, “then have you been ... you know, with call girls since we ... you know?”

  “No,” he said. “One of the perks of my condition is that I can go longer than most vampires without feeding. Ever since I’ve had you, Valentine, I can’t bear the thought of being with anyone else.”

  “Then be with me.” She let go of his hands and backed away. Her little black dress had spaghetti straps; she pushed them off her shoulders and wiggled out of the dress.

  Michael’s gaze went molten. “You were wearing that under your dress all night?”

  “You mean vampires don’t have X-ray vision?” She laughed as she kicked away the dress.

  The corset was black and fastened in the front with a row of eyelets and hooks. Two black straps connected it to her black fishnet stockings. To complete the ensemble, she wore a pair of black lace panties. She hadn’t taken off her high heels, either.

  “Interesting bows,” said Michael, his voice hoarse.

  Two incongruous pink ribbons laced through the top of her stockings, each puckered into bows. The color looked bold against the black of her lingerie—a touch of whimsy among items meant to seduce.

  Michael’s gaze feasted on her and she knew he wanted to devour her. Literally. She wanted to feel the magic between them, just as she had that first night. But this time, they would both be clear-headed, willing, and completely able.

  “Shall I undress for you?” Her hands hovered at the edge of her corset.

  “No.” Michael shed his coat and jacket, dropping them carelessly. He looked so handsome in the Armani suit with its crisp blue shirt. He hadn’t bothered with a tie; instead he’d left the first two buttons open.

  He walked to her and stopped. “Are you sure, Valentine? Because if I start, baby, I can’t stop.”

  “Sounds like a promise.”

  Lust permeated her as his fingers trailed down the corset to slide along the connective ribbons. Then he traced the edge of her stockings to the backs of her thighs. His palms flattened against her skin and rose upward, cupping her buttocks.

  Every touch made her skin tingle. She wanted to wrap herself around him and rip off his clothes, but she didn’t. No, she would follow his lead. She would show him that she could take everything he could give—and more.

 
He released her ass and knelt before her. He unsnapped her stockings from the corset. Then he untied each pink bow and pulled out the ribbons. He stood up and draped one ribbon around Val’s neck. The other, he tucked into his pants pocket.

  Starting from the bottom of the corset, he unhooked each eyelet. It was torture to wait for every snick of release. Val wanted to feel his hands on her badly, but it was as if he was keeping his fingers from her skin deliberately. By the time he’d worked his way to the last catch, she panted and moaned as her heart pounded fiercely.

  He removed the corset, tossing it to the floor. Her breasts, freed from the constraint, ached to be caressed and kissed. Michael met those needs. Leaning down, he drew one nipple into his mouth and sucked it into hardness. Electric thrills raced to her cunt. Her panties were already soaked and she wanted to pull them off, but she remained stationary. Much of her pleasure was derived from doing only what Michael wanted her to do.

  When her nipple was stiff and aching, Michael took one end of the long ribbon dangling from her neck and drew it around the taut peak. “Lift your breast,” he said in a low voice.

  She did as he asked.

  He twisted the nipple hard and she sucked in a breath as pain shot through her. He looped the end around her nipple and tied it tightly. Her nipple pulsed and reddened, but the hurtful tingles offered her more pleasure than pain. She sucked in deep breaths, her body quivering with need.

  Michael bent to her other breast and tormented her nipple with lips and tongue. With one breast caught in a sensual trap, she could barely tolerate the torment of the other one. She resisted the urge to wiggle off her undies. Damn, she wanted her panties off and his cock inside her. The very idea of getting horizontal with him made her even hotter.

  With the ribbon still around her neck, Michael pulled the loose end of the ribbon toward her nipple. Without him asking, she lifted up her breast. Once again, he twisted the already stiff peak and pleasure-pain zipped straight to her weeping pussy.

 

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