PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Shapeshifter Romance: The Vampire's Stolen Bride (BBW Fantasy Alpha Male Romance Books) (New Adult Vampire Fun Mature Young Adult Billionaire Steamy Love and Romance Novella)

by Sophia Hunter

  Then he stepped into the lights of her car, and she gasped. This wasn’t anyone strange; this was someone she knew, and knew well.

  “Hi, Nick,” she said, her heart suddenly hammering. He stopped in his perusal, looking her up and down slowly. When he got to her face, his eyes widened, and he licked his lips.

  “Jenna?” he asked and she could sense he was blushing. “What are you—” He stopped himself. “What are you…” He closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “Breakdown,” she said softly, very aware that she was in party clothes.

  “Did you call your dad?” he asked, and she shook her head. Nick and her father had been friends since grammar school, and she imagined he would have assumed that.

  “No, my phone is dead.”

  He kept looking at her; her father’s very best friend in the world. Uncle Nick; she’d grown up with him. And he’d so been checking her out. Whoa. Weird. But kind of...nice.

  “Where have you been, Jenna?” he asked, his voice rougher than she could ever remember it being. That was so not Uncle Nick; later just Nick. He’d been a constant in her life since she could remember, whether it was Dad and Uncle Nick going to games some weekends, to him watching her when Mom and Dad had gone away for their fifteenth anniversary, to helping her with her college essays, to…well, everything.

  She’d always thought of him as Dad’s best friend, never as a guy, but whoa boy he was checking her out in a way that was anything but interested.

  Then again, Jenna was dressed pretty revealingly, not at all like her demure work-like self. Instead of Mickey and Minnie on her scrubs, she had an off the shoulder top, with a statement bra on underneath, her top thin enough that her red and black bra showed through. Her skirt wasn’t quite mini—as a bigger than average gal she didn’t feel comfortable in skirts that revealed too much, especially when her shirt did.

  “Can I help?” he asked, pulling out his phone. He didn’t wait for her to answer, just dialed a number. “Triple A,” he told her, leaning against the side of her car. His hair was mussed, his shirt open to the third button, which wasn’t like him at all.

  But damn he looked good. Really good. Beyond good. He had a ruggedness that none of the guys at the club had, or if they did, they certainly didn’t look at girls like her.

  Girls like her meaning curvier. She was the biggest in her friends group and nobody seemed to look at her—not first or last, just period. She wasn’t interesting to men, not when they had their pick of her cuter, smaller friends.

  Then again, she thought of most men her age as boys rather than men. They were so immature and that was a problem for her. She wanted more—more everything, but starting with maturity.

  “Going to be a couple of hours,” Nick said, swiping his finger over the face of his phone. “Do you want to go back to your place, or mine? I think mine would be better, since I can talk with the mechanic when they tow it to a garage.”

  His? Oh yeah, his.

  Jenna hadn’t been to his current house; he’d gotten divorced and had moved in closer to the city, in order to have a quicker commute to work.

  “I had them tow to my mechanic, Jenna. Yours must be twenty miles away and that’ll add up in towing costs. You can crash at my place instead of relying on your dad to commute you back.”

  She considered his words and gave it consideration. It all made sense; too much sense. And she was sure she had imagined the way he’d looked at her. She was his best friend’s daughter and there was no way he’d go there. Not with her.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “Let me get my purse.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Nick watched his best friend’s kid bending over and tried not to think about how her skirt was riding up a little bit and how the door was blocking his view of that bra. He’d have to talk with Tony and mention that Jenna was being a little wild. Though he had no idea how he’d sell this to his buddy—Tony would probably kick his ass.

  Hell, Nick would kick his own ass if he could. Jenna was doing all sorts of things he couldn’t face quite yet and didn’t want to imagine. No, not yet. Or maybe not at all. Ever. Nope never. Jenna was his buddy’s kid, and he had to keep remembering that. Even if she was dressed more like a streetwalker than the young woman he’d gotten to know.

  “Ready,” she said, teetering back up tall. She wobbled a moment and he resisted the urge to steady her. When she glanced over to his car, and then gave him a grin, his pants started to tighten.

  Whoa, Nellie. Not good at all.

  “I love it,” she told him, her voice a low, sexy alto. “Mustangs are just sexy. Were you off having a good time tonight then?”

  Good night? Just the opposite. He’d had a date go really badly—she wasn’t over her boyfriend and had far too much to drink. There had been a little cock teasing, and she’d wanted a kiss before he dropped her off. She’d been so drunk he’d let himself in with her and had waited until she’d gotten ready for bed. It had happened far too slowly. He was tired, more than a little cranky, and somewhat horny, though he didn’t want to admit to that. Not to himself and definitely not to Jenna.

  “No,” he replied softly. “What’s got you in that?” he asked, gesturing to her provocative outfit. Jenna was more a jeans, tee shirt, and flip flops kind of girl, so this was surprising. And fuckin’ hot, okay, he could admit that.

  “A friend of mine got a new job. She’s going to be working for the mayor’s office and she invited us all out for drinks and dancing.” She motioned to her clothes and shrugged. “It isn’t really my thing.”

  Oh hell yes, it was. “You look good,” he said, not believing he said the words. He wanted to take them back—what was he thinking showing his hand like that?

  ‘Thanks,” she said, her face reddening. He could tell it in the dim light, but with luck, she wouldn’t have any idea what he was thinking or feeling—or showing, for that matter.

  He came around and opened the passenger side door, not because she was girly and needed him to, or even because it was good manners. He did it because he wanted to watch those gorgeous thighs as she slid into the car. Would that skirt ride up any higher, affording him a better view of her curvy legs. And how the seatbelt would constrict her cleavage. That one bare shoulder looked so fucking creamy and kissable, and he winced, knowing his plans to go home and jack off to some faceless imaginary lover were done. Maybe he could wait until she went to sleep, or curb his normally loud lovemaking style. Or maybe he’d just go to sleep. Yeah, that would be good, it was late, after all.

  Then he watched her slip into his car, and oh yeah, that skirt rode up, giving him a small peek at her thigh, creamy and so not approachable. That seat belt clipped over her gorgeous breasts and that equally creamy and delectable shoulder, damn it all to hell.

  He was in trouble; more trouble than Nick might be prepared to handle. Handle? Oh yeah, he wanted to handle that. “All set?” he asked, trying not to growl the words.

  “All good,” she replied, looking up at him and giving him a sunny smile. Oh yeah, it was all good. Just great.

  “Good,” he replied, closing the door gently. He came around the back of his car, adjusting his suddenly-too-tight pants. This was going to be a long, long night.

  Nick drove them back to his place, a townhouse in a shopping multi use community neighborhood. He knew she’d never been to his place, and hoped she wouldn’t think of it as too bachelor pad. He wasn’t a messy person, but he did live alone, and he thought his design aesthetic was comfortably casual. It wasn’t for everyone, but he wasn’t ready to make a complete man cave. He loved his gourmet kitchen, for example, and cooking in it was fantastic. It might not be expected, but it was him. He might be the guy to take a home done meal to a football potluck. None of his buddies ever minded. Hell, most of them were divorced anyway and needed to cook for themselves and sometimes their kids, though most of the guys had kids in college now. Or graduates in the workforce, like Jenna. She’d been working as a nurse
a few years now, Tony mentioned it with pride often. But in the next breath, he often bemoaned the fact that she hadn’t had a serious boyfriend in years. Tony, like most of the guys, wanted grandkids when he was young. And his daughter settled, though Nick knew his buddy wouldn’t give that a voice. That wasn’t the sort of things guys in their group were even willing to discuss.

  Nick slid into the driver’s side seat and looked over at her. This felt right in a way he didn’t dare try to identify. It could sit alongside his sexual arousal, banked and ignored. But he had the sense that it, too, would explode at some juncture and overtake common sense.

  Yeah, what a great night. Nick flicked on the radio, a driving classic rock track he loved pouring through the speakers. It would be better to speed away and avoid conversation. He could keep his eyes locked on the road and pretend he couldn’t smell her lemony perfume, pretend he didn’t want to drown in the taste of her skin. If she smelled and looked that delectable, how would her mouth taste, how would her body feel rocking under his.

  He bit off a groan that he hoped was hidden by the music and focused on the road, though all his other senses were working overtime imagining what she would be like in his bed.

  Jenna closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. This was a favorite song from one of her favorite bands. In fact, she remembered singing and dancing around the kitchen to this song when she’d been home from college, doing a shake and shimmy in a tee shirt and short shorts. Nick had come in and sang along with her, and at the end of the song, he’d applauded, giving her a very sexy smirk. She’d rushed off to her room, panties embarrassingly wet, nipples so hard she’d whimpered, and she’d gotten herself off twice that night.

  Memories…

  She looked over at Nick, who she wasn’t sure realized that he was singing along to a Styx song. His gaze was focused in on the road, which was empty. He wasn’t speeding as much as she might have, but she appreciated the way he took the curves. If he handled his car this well, what else could he handle and how well would he handle them?

  Jenna swallowed hard. My god, what did he think of her?

  “I wasn’t hoping to get picked up by anyone,” she told him, not quite sure why she was saying the words.

  “You wanted to be stranded?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Absolutely not,” she told him with a giggle. “I just wasn’t out tonight trying to see if any guys would give me attention. Most guys my age are…”

  “Are?”

  “Yeah. Are.” Are what, how could she describe it? “Immature. Uninteresting, I guess.”

  “You guess? Sounds like you don’t know what you want, kiddo.”

  Kiddo? Kiddo?!? Those were fighting words. “I know exactly what I want from a lover.” She used that last word deliberately, knowing that it would very likely cause a reaction from him. And it did. He grunted and muttered something she could only barely hear, and couldn’t discern, It might have been “bullshit” or the like.

  “Okay, Jenna, I’ll bite. What do you want from a lover, kiddo?” That word had a little sarcastic edge, as if he still actually thought of her as a young person, needing to be coddled or condescended to. And no, that was not happening, no way, no how.

  She turned to face him, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I need a man, a lover who knows how to make me scream, Nicholas. I need a man with a big cock who knows how to use it. I need a man who can make me come while he’s tasting my pussy. I need a man who can allow me to suck his cock, keeping him on the edge for hours. I need a real man, a mature man.”

  Taking every chance in the world, and knowing it might be exactly the wrong move, Jenna rested her hand on his thigh, squeezing gently just below the bulge that had been steadily growing as she talked.

  “Do you know a man like that, Nicky?”

  He slammed on the brakes suddenly, throwing them both against their seatbelts, and then their seats.

  “What the hell?” she exclaimed. It hadn’t hurt as much as startled her, but her hand had slipped off his thigh. Damn it; that thigh had felt amazing under her hand.

  “You have no idea how much fire you’re playing with, Jenna. I am not a man to be teased, or used for your...whatever this is.”

  “Foreplay?” she said, needing to push the envelope.

  He growled, unclipping his seat belt, opening the door, and jumping out of the car. He pulled her door open, reached over to unclip her seat belt, and yanked her out of the car. She would have been nervous if it had been anyone but Nick, but he was safe, even if he was losing his temper.

  “What do you want?” he asked, his grip unyielding, his hand warm and solid where it banded her wrist.

  “A man,” she replied, staring up into his angry face. Angry meant passionate and passionate could lead to great sex.

  Great?

  Sex?

  Was she really thinking of fucking Uncle Nick, her father’s very best friend in the world. And was he thinking the same?

  “Be careful, Jenna. Playing with fire means you might get burned.”

  “And?” she asked, licking her lips. He yanked her arm, hauling her against her and backing her against the car. The metal was warm against her nearly-naked back, the filmy fabric she wore doing little to keep her away from the metal. And against her was the hard unyielding body of Nick. Who was very, very hard. Oh god, she wanted that cock.

  “You’re playing with the wrong man tonight,” he told her, his eyes flashing. The car purred against her back and he ground his cock against her front. With their difference in heights, he was pressed against her soft belly, his cock clearly delineated even though he had chinos on.

  “Why?” she asked, equal parts curious and aroused. Okay, maybe she was more aroused and less curious.

  “Because if you continue, I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll scream. At least until you lose your voice.” He took her other arm in his hand and brought them both over his head, forcing her back to arch, forcing her pelvis to tip upward. “You have been playing with boys, Jenna, and now you’re out of your league. those boys have nothing on me.”

  “Yeah, I can feel that,” she managed between breaths that were getting increasingly shallow. “You going to fuck me here, Nick, or at your place.”

  He released one hand and just as she was trying to decide where to put it, he reached under her skirt, clenching her panties at her hip, where the band was smallest. With a single tug, he tore them away, tossing them over his shoulder.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do. Get back in my car and make yourself ready, with your fingers on your wet cunt. If you’re good, I’ll let you come. In my car. Right here. If we get to my garage first, you’ll have to wait until I’m done for you to come, and I can be slow and easy when I want to be. And hard and fast when I want to be too.”

  She loved the instructions; God, that was turning her on. She loved a man who could take control, who could sketch out what he wanted and make it happen, and Uncle Nick--Nick, her hopeful lover--seemed more than capable.

  “And then what?” she asked him, trying to find her breath. She could barely hear over the pounding beat of her heart.

  “Then I’m going to fuck you silly, so enjoy the ride.” He leaned in and nipped her earlobe, eliciting a gasp. “Get back in the car, Jenna.”

  When he stepped back, she gasped, the breeze tickling her legs. She knew she was only imagining it caressing her cunt, but it made her even wetter. Some day, she hoped he’d take her out here, right against his purring car.

  “Please, Nick…” She didn’t know what she was asking, but he smirked and motioned to the car.

  “The sooner you wait, the longer I wait,” he told her. That galvanized her and she opened the car door, slipping in. He came around to the other side of the car, getting n. “Legs apart,” he told her and she opened her legs as wide as she could. She slumped down in her seat, reaching under the hem of her skirt and stroked her fingers over her pussy, spreading the wetness.

&nbs
p; “Not good enough,” he told her. “Skirt up. I want to see and hear you.” With that, he flicked off the radio, and she could hear her rapid breathing. How could Nick be so calm, cool, and collected.

  Jenna pulled her skirt up, wiggling so that the fabric didn’t bunch too much and spread her legs, shocked at how the air conditioning felt against her wet flesh.

  “Wider,” he told her, and she looked over at him, her mouth slightly open, little panting breaths she couldn’t hold back.

  “I’m wide.” There was no way he could actually see what was happening in the light, but if anyone could, she was sure it was him. “Nick…”

  “You haven’t touched yet and you know what I want.”

  She did, and she remembered his instructions. She wanted to come so badly, she was restless, energy sparking up all around her. “May I touch?” she asked, and she could hear his breathing change. Maybe he could see her, after all.

  She canted her hips upward, finger stroking over her clit in a slow figure eight motion that drove her crazy. She slipped her index finger inside her pussy, stroking her flesh slowly. She was so damn close, Nick’s relationship emphasizing everything. It could be--should be--forbidden in its own way, but it felt oh so right. So fucking right!

  She added a finger, her soaked cunt greedily accepting them, the sounds of her arousal embarrassing and turning her on. She closed her eyes and started to drift, heading toward her climax. Things were happening, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Then Nick was moving her hand in and out, his other hand--other hand? Wasn’t he driving-- brushing her hair off her neck.

  “Shhh,” he said when her eyes popped open. “It’s okay, Jenna. You’re just fine here, sweetheart.” He’d loomed up over the center console and was watching her, his body contorted, his long legs half bent. “I just wanted to get closer to you.”

  When he groaned, she realized his hard cock was pressing against the center console, and it looked as if it might be turning him on. Completely. Totally. She approved.