Bruised MC Bear (Beartooth Brotherhood MC Book 3)

by Bella Love-Wins

  “Good God, no,” I laughed. “That won’t go over well, not even in Vegas.”

  “True. I believe Axe can keep his guys in check. Everyone I invited is human … well, everyone except you and a few others.”

  “Right. Well, for the record, I’m sorry I complained when we spoke a couple of weeks ago. It’s your special day, and I’m honored you picked me to be a part of it.”

  “Thank, love. Okay, I’d better get your details over to Vincent. Look for his call or text in a few.”

  “Will do. See you in a bit.”

  “I can’t wait to see you, Sonya.”

  Hanging up, I rejoined the surge of airplane commuters and wheeled my carry-on suitcase toward US customs and immigration. My phone buzzed with a phone call from an unknown number while I was in the US immigration line.

  “Hello?” I whispered. I turned away from the agent walking beside the lineup outside the cordoned off area where I stood. I couldn’t let him see me. There were large “No Cell Phones” signs on every wall I could see, so I was sure if someone noticed me on my cell I’d end up getting in some kind of trouble. Never mind that I’d flown in from Bulgaria and was already a prime candidate for a random body cavity search.

  “Hello,” said a man’s voice I didn’t recognize. I assumed it was Axe’s friend. “This is Vincent. Is this Sonya?”

  “It is, but I can’t talk at the moment. Just getting through customs. Can you text me?”

  “Completely understood, and no problem at all. Will do.”

  He hung up, and the smooth, baritone timber of his voice still echoed in my head. This was a friend of Axe? I had to wonder how a die-hard, patch-wearing motorcycle club member—and bear shifter—was friends with a wealthy, refined hotel magnate. This was sure to be one interesting wedding.

  By the time Vincent sent me his first text, I was waiting with a trolley beside the baggage carousels, hoping that my four suitcases and rugged bicycle travel case all made the trip safely.

  “Hi again. It’s Vincent.”

  “Hello. I’m at the baggage carousel in Terminal 3. Shouldn’t be long.”

  “Okay.”

  Two of my suitcases rolled around just then, and as I dragged them off, I remembered that Angel probably didn’t mention how many bags I had.

  “I have a bit of a luggage situation.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I have a lot of suitcases. Like, a whole lot.”

  I caught sight of the bike case and ran around to grab it. My two other bags came out right after.

  “No problem. Do you need help?”

  “Got them all. I should be okay.”

  “I’ll come in. What do you look like?”

  “Long black hair, blue eyes, denim jeans and a light grey shirt. You?”

  “Dark hair, grey eyes, navy suit, white shirt.”

  “Okay. Wait, I still have to take my bags through the last checkpoint. See you there?”

  “Sure.”

  “Look for the girl with too much luggage.”

  I was surprised that the customs officer didn’t give me a hard time for all the stuff in my cart. It looked like I lived out of it at the moment. I got a bigger shock when I saw Vincent standing outside. I didn’t have to guess who he was. He was the only man fitting the description he’s just given me. And God, he stood out from the crowd. Tall, handsome, wide shoulders, imposing, light eyes, light skin, and yet dark somehow. All that thick dark hair smoothed back. And those grey eyes. Even in the distance, I made out a keen, predatory expression. I absently bit the inside of my cheek and tasted a prick of blood. Why was I nervous all of a sudden?

  He came up the ramp to help me with my things.

  “Sonya?” he asked, reaching out his hand to greet me. “I’m Vincent Belmont.”

  “Hi, it’s nice to—” I froze. I didn’t finish my sentence, and I didn’t shake his hand. Something clawed at me from inside my chest, sending my wolf on high alert. The light around him seemed to shiver like a mirage in the desert heat.

  Vincent was no regular human.

  He was not human at all.

  God, I was so confused. All this lack of sleep didn’t help my clarity, either.

  “What the hell are you?” I demanded right from my spot in the middle of the very public terminal.

  3

  Sonya

  I stopped myself when I remembered where we were. Placing my hand back on the luggage cart handle, I continued pushing my cart down the ramp.

  Vincent fell into step beside me. “Calm down.”

  “Calm down? I won’t make a scene, but you’re … you’re not … I have no idea what you are. Shit, this was a bad idea.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll explain in the car. Let me help you with the cart.”

  “Fine.”

  I picked up my laptop bag and purse from the top of the luggage pile, and let him handle the cart. We walked the rest of the way in silence. Following a few strides behind him, I kept a sharp, distrustful eye on him. When we made it to his waiting stretch limousine, the driver opened the passenger door for us. Vincent motioned for me to get inside while the driver loaded my things.

  I scampered across the L-shaped back seat to the spot directly behind the driver’s seat, wishing there was more space between this Vincent character and me. He took his seat. I could swear the energy flowing from him felt like a blade piercing my chest.

  Swallowing hard, I went for it. I had to know before this vehicle took off. “Are you going to tell me what the hell you are? Warlock? Demon?”

  “Try vamp.” His voice was calm, as though he’d just told me the name of his favorite cereal or something just as banal.

  “Vamp … did you just say you’re … a … you’re a vampire?”

  “Axe and Angel didn’t tell you?”

  “Clearly not.”

  He faced forward and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps they thought it would be rude.”

  “Rude? Telling a wolf shifter she’s about to meet a vampire is not rude. It’s a goddamned necessity. It’s more dangerous not to. Do you even know how hard it was not to shift and rip out your throat back there in the terminal?”

  “You don’t mince words, I see. Yes, I believe I do, but I’ve had a while to adjust. Relax. I won’t hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me?” I looked out the window and shook my head. “You should be worried about whether or not I will hurt you. Hang on. It’s daytime. How are your even out in the sunlight?”

  “I’ve had some time to figure out walking in the daylight. I gather you’ve never met a vampire before?”

  “Never.”

  “And you’re flying in from Eastern Europe? I’m surprised.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re telling me you’ve never been in the company of a vampire. Okay, let’s say that’s true.”

  “It is.”

  The driver closed the trunk door and got in the driver seat. He wasn’t able to fit everything in the trunk, so he placed the bike case in the front passenger seat. Vincent smiled into the mirror and pressed the button to close the privacy divider between the driver and us.

  “I’m not saying I don’t believe you … let me ask you another way. That instinct you felt in the terminal. Have you ever experienced anything similar before?”

  I was about to dismiss his question without any thought. After all, he was a vampire. I’d been raised to believe that if I ever encountered one, I needed to shift swiftly, attack with no hesitation, and run like hell afterward. But something about his question resonated. Come to think about it, I’d had this burning in my gut before. I could recall at least one time at an outdoor bistro in Bulgaria, and on at least two occasions in the Carpathian mountains in Romania. I traveled there on many weekends to hike to the deep woods and shift to wolf form. For all of those times, I remember dismissing the gut feeling as my being jittery from shifting in a new country.

  Son of a bitch.

&
nbsp; Were all those raging instincts my response to vampires?

  I glanced over at him for a split second. “Maybe.”

  “And you’re still alive. That should tell you something… Take it from me. I’ve been around a while. It’s only an issue if you make it one. I mean, you and Angel are friends, just like Vincent and I are. We’re also here for them.”

  “I’ll be honest with you. I’m not sure I can do this weekend anymore. Think about it. A human, a vampire, and two shifters walk into a wedding chapel. That already sounds like the start of a bad joke.”

  “I respectfully disagree. Why make it a big deal?”

  “Because I. Am. A. Wolf shifter.”

  “So what?”

  “No one thought to tell werewolf girl I’d meet a mortal enemy?”

  “Hang on. You’re a wolf shifter, not a werewolf. There’s a difference.”

  I knew that, but I was curious about his knowledge of our species. “Which is?”

  He looked out his window, and I was sure he rolled his eyes. I wasn’t sure I could blame him. Having to explain the difference to me, well this didn’t happen every day.

  “Werewolves can’t control when they shift. The full moon controls their transformation … and they’re usually completely violent and blood-thirsty during those times. Wolf shifters, well, you have more control. You can turn anytime you want. Sure, the full moon affects you, but not in the same way.” He studied me for a moment. “You were born a wolf shifter, correct?”

  “As opposed to what?”

  “Being turned.”

  “There are turned shifters?” Now, to be honest, this part I didn’t know. I was raised in Red Ridge among generations of born shifters of every type. I didn’t know men could be turned to shifters.

  He nodded. “Yes, but it’s another story for another time. They’re rare around here, but travel up to Reno-Sparks sometime. There’s a cluster of them living there and in a few other cities.” He didn’t explain the turned shifter part further. “Let’s get back to you, shall we? As a born wolf shifter, if you turn during a full moon, you’ll remain a wolf until the full moon passes. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But even then, you’re not a murderous flesh-eater.”

  I snarled, unsure where the urge came from. “No matter what I am, I can’t … be in the same room with you. Not for long, anyway.”

  He cleared his throat. “Let’s see if we can do our utmost to grin and bear it for the next two days … for our friends’ sakes.”

  “It’s not safe. Two of us in the same space like this? Not safe at all.”

  His gray eyes pierced through me. “Perhaps there’s another reason behind your hesitation … attraction, maybe?”

  I whipped my neck around, glaring at him. “Of course there isn’t … that’s crazy … ludicrous.”

  He smiled smugly. “Prove it.”

  “How?”

  He must have been feeling lucky, because he tapped an index finger on his lips and replied with, “Kiss the mortal enemy. Right here.”

  My eyes narrowed and my eyebrows furrowed. The nerve of this cocky, bloodsucking bastard. My lips tightened. I was raging, and ready to fight. Closing my fists at my side, I looked over at him, welcoming the adrenaline flooding my veins. I couldn’t help it. He was about to get an uncensored piece of my mind.

  “What do I look like? An undead slut? Or one of those human female groupies who can’t get enough supernatural man-whores like you? I know your type … and trust me, it’s never gonna happen.”

  “Never is a strong word, Sonya.”

  “Not strong enough,” I insisted. “And seriously? Prove it? What are we, five now?”

  “We aren’t, but I would like to see you resist me after one kiss.” He smirked, smoothed out his suit jacket, and faced forward.

  It must have been the jetlag, or being awake for almost twenty-four hours after doing a rush job to pack and be ready for this long-haul flight. Fury burned inside me, so strongly that nearly all of my self-control eroded. Something inside me bubbled to the surface, and a second later I pounced on him.

  “I can tear you apart,” I warned him, gripping his neck with the full force of my human strength.

  “I’ve had brushes with death before.”

  He was lucky I could still hold on to the thread of control to keep my beast inside. It would be nothing to crush his windpipe, though I recalled that alone wouldn’t kill a vampire, but probably would piss him off.

  “By the way,” he added. “I’d love to see you try, but for now, I’m quite enjoying having you like this.”

  “Like how?” I growled.

  His eyes alone glanced down between our bodies. “Legs straddling me, body nice and tight against mine, looking deep into my eyes. I may just prefer you like this over my little old tame suggestion of a kiss.”

  Shit. I really had climbed into his lap. He didn’t so much as lay a finger anywhere on my person. Embarrassed, I released his neck, dismounted his legs, and returned to my spot. I still wanted to wipe that grin off his smug face, but I had already crossed the line. I used the rest of the time in the limo to blow up Angel’s phone, demanding an answer as to why she kept this detail from me. She replied with one smiley face just before we rolled up at the hotel.

  Well, fuck me.

  4

  Vincent

  She was a feisty little thing.

  Brave too, believing she was any match for me, an over three-hundred-year-old vampire. My only reaction was one of lust, but not for her blood. Having her body taut against me, the scent of her adrenaline-filled blood rushing through her veins were but a candle to the raging heat between her legs. She was aroused. That knowledge was like a sensual attack on my groin. Before she moved off, I had already grown hard for her, and I was sure she felt the throb of my bulge while her inner thighs practically wrapped around my waist.

  I smiled all the way to the hotel. This could be an enjoyable weekend after all. Probably much more fun if Sonya would relax that gorgeous face and smoking hot body of hers. Pale, creamy skin, those light blue eyes both innocent and fierce, jet black flowing hair, pouty red lips, delicate facial features, erect nipples pebbling under her silky bra and thin t-shirt, jeans hugging her slender hips, and mile-long legs.

  Licking my lips, I enjoyed perusing Sonya as she used her phone to avoid me at all costs. Tapping away at a cell phone, filled with ire at my boldness, she seemed all the more intriguing. We arrived at the hotel, and Sonya didn’t wait for the driver to let her out. She promptly opened the door closest to her and bolted around to stand beside the trunk of the car. A curbside bellman arrived with a luggage cart.

  “Allow me to help you with your bags, ma’am,” he said to her as I stepped out.

  “Sure,” she answered, seeming drained. “Thank you.”

  “Are my keys ready?” I asked him.

  “Definitely, Mr. Belmont. The entire thirtieth floor is reserved for you and your party. I’ll get your guest a key to the suite beside yours.”

  “No!” Sonya barked at him, then she lowered her voice to add, “I would prefer a room on another floor. I’ll check in myself.”

  “Miss—”

  “Miss Isabelle. Sonya Isabelle. Do you need a credit card to hold the room?”

  “We don’t, but I’m sorry, Miss Isabelle. We’re fully booked this weekend. Only the thirtieth-floor suites are available for your group.”

  “I understand. It’s fine, but if you can, I’d like to be a few doors down from Mr. Belmont.” She turned to me, scowling. “No offense, Mr. Belmont.”

  “None taken.”

  The bellman nodded. “That will be no problem. If you’d like, I’ll show you to the room now, and bring your keys to you right after. This way, you don’t have to wait. Check-in has been rather busy this afternoon.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  “Excellent choice. After you, ma’am.” He waited for us to go in ahead and followed with her things.

>   “Thanks.” She tilted her head, scrutinizing the contents of the cart. Turning to me at the elevator bay, she asked, “Don’t you have any clothes for the weekend?”

  “They’re already up in my room.”

  “Oh. I forgot you own the place.”

  The door to my suite was closest to the elevators, so I stopped at my door instead of escorting her to her room. “I’ll see you later on, Miss Isabelle. At dinner, I believe, but if you need anything at all, call down to the front desk or send me a text. Anytime.”

  Huffing, she kept walking and didn’t give me an answer.

  I had a few hours of business to attend to. Entering my suite, I headed to my office at the end of the hall and got started. Less than an hour into it, my cell phone buzzed on my desk with a text from Sonya.

  Her message read, “I owe you an apology.”

  I replied with, “I’ll only accept it in person.”

  I smiled when her answer came in at the same time as her knock on my door. Her message read, “Fine.”

  5

  Sonya

  I should have left well enough alone.

  Finally settled into my private suite at the far end of the floor, I took a shower to unwind from the long day of travel. After that, I should have found my pajamas, opened one of the bottles of wine in the generously stocked full-sized fridge, crawled into the room’s king-sized bed, and taken a nap.

  That didn’t happen.

  I threw on a tank top and sweat pants, and sent the vampire down the hall a text. Yes, I needed to apologize for my outlandish behavior, but I could have waited until Angel and Axe were here.

  I should have.

  The apology by text was bad enough, but no, I had to play with fire by agreeing to go to his room. Now that I stood outside his door, about to close my slightly stinging fingertips into a fist to knock, I took a breath, tamping down my thoughts of Vincent Belmont as my mind raced. I groaned, rubbed the bridge of my nose and knocked on the door. I was utterly hopeless, entertaining all manner of salacious ideas about him for some unknown reason.