Wicked After Dark: 20 Steamy Paranormal Tales of Dragons, Vampires, Werewolves, Shifters, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Mina Carter

  "Get up on your knees," he says, startling me out of the silence. I actually miss his warm weight when he moves away.

  I quickly push myself up and do as he says. Kneeling behind me, he molds his smooth hard chest against my back, towering over me. It feels like his cock has gotten longer and harder, now trying its best to drill itself into me, but he still doesn't get in a rush. Reaching around, his strong hands glide up the curve of my waist until they both cup my breasts, squeezing them softly and teasing my nipples.

  "You feel how hard I am for you?" he asks against my ear and I nod. "I've been like this since the second I saw you. Since I saw those two fuckers' hands and mouths on you."

  I remember as I sat out in the bar between the two vampires, my mind was a million miles away to distract me from what they were doing and would later do to me. But then I'd noticed something in the room change, a shift in the air of some sort that made me feel like I was safe and being watched over. At the time I'd looked around the room but couldn't figure out the source, figuring I'd imagined the sudden serenity.

  "Now you're mine and only mine," he says before he begins rocking his cock against my backside like he's growing more desperate to fill me.

  Whether it's his proprietary words or the happy little reminder that I've hit the jackpot with him for a few hours tonight, I'm quickly losing myself to him.

  "Please, Frederick," I beg him.

  His big warm hands pause for a moment before one lowers, caressing over my hip and then dipping between my thighs. I spread my knees further apart to give him access, needy for his touch. Not a single other man has been considerate enough to get me ready before they fuck me.

  "Is this what you need?" he asks.

  "Yes," I cry out in pleasure when his fingertips brush along my lower lips and then push their way up inside of me. The sensation of his penetrating thrusts and pressure of the heel of his hand against my clit has me dripping wet with arousal. Adding to that the feel of his soft wet lips on my neck makes me shudder with pleasure. Over the years I've only had one real lover in a secret room that made me feel this good, and here this man is paying me. Remembering that it’s my job to make him feel good, I reach behind me and grasp his cock, squeezing as I give him a stroke.

  "You don't have to rush, baby. We've got all night."

  I freeze at the feeling of deja vu, and at the news that he's paid a shitload of money. I’m his for the entire night instead of just a few hours. Not that I'm complaining. Quite the opposite actually. I want to stay in this room with this man all night. That thought is somewhat disconcerting. It has me wondering if I'm getting desensitized to this horrid place already. Not only that, but I didn't think it was possible that I'd ever actually enjoy having sex for money.

  As if proving the contradiction, my silky inner walls begin to quiver and tighten around his fingers right before my entire body shakes and I moan through the blissful release. One of Frederick’s arms bands around my stomach while I hear the crinkling of a condom in his other hand. I imagine the package is being torn open with his teeth before he rolls it on with just one very efficient hand. Even though I'm expecting it, I cry out when he thrust forward, filling me to the hilt.

  "Did I hurt you?" he asks and I shake my head since I can't speak yet. Now I'm pretty sure that I should be the one paying him.

  "Feels good. More," I gasp and he begins to move, slowly and deliciously at first. I reach around and hold his thick, muscular body to mine, silently begging him to take me faster, harder. When he complies I push back against him, bouncing on his thick shaft.

  "Ah, yes! Yes!" I urge him on.

  "God, you feel...fucking...incredible," he growls against my ear. His fingers dig into my hips while he pounds his cock into me so damn hard.

  Another tremor of ecstasy rocks through me, even stronger than the first one. I'm still experiencing aftershocks when he lowers us down onto our sides against the mattress, his arm still around my waist so that we're spooning. Who spoons with their whore?

  "What are you doing in a place like this? Letting those disgusting bastards fuck you?" he asks, his warm panting breath fanning through my hair.

  "Trying to get by," I stiffen at the insult before I’m overcome with an embarrassing yawn. "And hold on to your high horse there buddy, aren't you one of the disgusting bastards too now?"

  He chuckles, causing the vibrations to ripple pleasantly through my back. "You got me there."

  I don't know how I know it, but he's the furthest thing from disgusting. Maybe it's the gentle way he touches me, or the lack of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. He smells clean and...expensive, like sandalwood and new leather. I should be nicer to him, because if I fuck his brains out tonight, he might request me again on future visits. I wouldn't mind having a regular like him.

  "So how long have you been working in this hellhole?" he asks.

  Too long. "A few weeks."

  "I don't like it. You're better than this, Hope."

  I gasp and my drowsy, pleasurable haze immediately clears as soon as my real name leaves his lips. "How do you...who are you?" I roll over to face him even though the room is too dark to make out any characteristics. I rub my fingertips along his strong, bristly jaw and my other hand through his hair. Long hair for a man. I've only ever been with one other man with thick, shaggy hair, and that was years ago.

  Batman?

  No! It couldn't be. This guy's name is Frederick Coughlin. Wait, Eric is short for Frederick...and the Halloween party five years ago was at the Coughlin mansion. All this time...that night...I hadn't been with just another party-goer. No, I'd fucked the extremely rich Coughlin son.

  "You lied to me! You said you didn't know the Coughlins."

  "That wasn't a lie. I might be one, but I didn't know a thing about my parents. I was raised by nannies and then they sent me off to boarding school as soon as I could walk."

  "Your dad..." I remember hearing about his death last week. That's all everyone around here has been talking about since an Angel was actually with him when he died of a heart attack at his residence.

  I suck in a breath when I realize the connection between his father's death and then Brooke's. Hers last night shook us all up. It was deemed an accident, a vampire going too far. But now I wonder...could the two be related?

  "He's dead. That's the only reason I came back to this goddamn town. I thought you said you were going to school to get out of here."

  "Yeah well, things change."

  "Why'd you give up so easily?" he asks, his tone implying that I'm lazy and unmotivated.

  "You don't know a damn thing about me, you arrogant prick! Not everyone is born with a silver spoon in their mouth."

  "I know that there's always a better choice than whoring yourself out."

  "Yes, and would you like to hear those choices? Working at Shirley's Diner for five years, maxing out at nine dollars an hour as a shift manager. Let me do the math for you, rich boy, with tips and after taxes that only comes out to about a thousand dollars a month. Rent is five hundred, health insurance is two hundred and fifty, electricity is sixty, car insurance is fifty, and gas is at least forty."

  "If that's it then I may not be great at math, but that leaves you with a hundred dollars."

  "Yes, one hundred whole dollars to spend on groceries for a month! That doesn't include medicine, clothes, or repairs when my car breaks down."

  "Oh," he mutters.

  "Oh is right, Mr. Moneybags. I make a thousand a weekend here."

  "There has to be somewhere else you can go," he says, stroking a knuckle softly over my cheek.

  "Sure, there are a ton of glorious jobs in this rundown town for a college dropout with only waitressing experience," I reply sarcastically. "Let me know when you find one of those opportunities and I'll happily apply."

  "You could come work for me," he says simply, but I ignore it. I don't want his pity or his close proximity on a regular basis. I can’t risk him getting that close.

>   Trying to distract him, I throw my leg over his and reach down to grab his tight ass, pulling him forward until our lower bodies align. "Are you going to talk all night or do you plan to get your money's worth? I can't imagine how much you paid for the entire night."

  "Three thousand."

  "Th-three...three thousand?" I sputter over the incredible amount.

  "Yeah. How much of that does Simon actually give you?" he asks, nuzzling against my neck.

  "A thousand, if I'm lucky." Holy shit! I just made a thousand dollars in one night! Maybe I'll finally start digging us out of our hole, so that we can eventually leave this town and I can find a decent job.

  "I'll make sure he gives you two," he replies, nipping at my ear lobe and making me shiver.

  "Ha," I bark out a sarcastic laugh at that comment. "Like he gives a shit what you say."

  "He does. I guess you could say I'm his...boss."

  "You own this place?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Of course not. Frederick Coughlin, III couldn't possibly think of sullying his hands in this nasty place."

  "I might visit more often now that I know you're here." He grabs a handful of my ass and presses me tightly against his hard body.

  No, no, no. I can't afford to get closer to him. "You shouldn't sully yourself with me, either."

  "I know I shouldn't, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop doing it."

  Chapter Two

  Eric

  What is it about this woman that has my head spinning? I have tons of beautiful, classy, sophisticated shifter women begging me to marry them, but here I am in the seedy part of town in bed with a human whore. A gorgeous whore, but a whore, nevertheless.

  And if fucking her isn't mind blowing enough, I actually enjoy lying here next to her, just talking to her. So much that I don't want to leave. I didn't even tell my driver—Derek or Drew or whatever the hell his name is—that I was going to be gone a few hours. I don't even remember if I had any other appointments tonight or conference calls. To hell with everyone but her.

  Grabbing her by the back of her neck, I pull her to me, covering her lips forcefully, not wasting any time thrusting my tongue into her mouth. Hope reciprocates with her own while running her hands through my hair. She climbs on top of me, guiding me to my back so that she's on top. The curtain of her long, raspberry scented hair shields us from the rest of the world.

  I can't believe after all these years that I'm here with her again. The sex is just as amazing and explosive as it was back then. I've often wondered if my memories of fucking her those two times on Halloween were exaggerated, but now I know the truth. Being with her is even better than I remembered.

  When her mouth moves down my body, I don't know whether to curse at the loss on my lips or push her head down to urge her lower. Oh, and she is definitely not wasting any time going lower, pulling off the used condom.

  I gasp in a shaky breath like a drowning man when her lips seal around my stiffening cock. I'm trying really hard not to think about her mouth on other cocks, but the idea has been planted and is growing quicker than kudzu. I don't want her mouth on anyone but me. And after I leave here tonight...who will she be with tomorrow night, and the next? I remember the two guys out front who were going to fuck her at the same time if I hadn't stolen her right out from under them. The thought makes me go limp instead of harder.

  "Um, you don't really seem like the type of guy to already have a problem with ED," she says. Way to stroke a man's ego.

  "What can I say? Knowing that you've probably sucked the dick of every other man in town doesn't really do it for me."

  Her sharp gasp tells me that my comment may have been a bit too harsh, but I can't rein the anger in.

  "Do you suck that bastard Simon off and fuck him whenever he wants?" I ask her as I sit up in bed. I need to know for some damn reason, but she doesn't say a word. "Well, do you? All part of your job, right?"

  My chest heaves as my blood pressure rises. I'm on the verge of shifting and know I've got to get it under control. But this feeling...this unfamiliar jealousy and possessiveness is pouring out of me, and I can't seem to stop being an asshole.

  I smell her salty tears before I hear her sniffle, completely extinguishing my rage. Fuck. "Hope, I'm sorry. I just...I fucking hate seeing you here."

  "Do you think this is where I want to be?" she asks, her voice cracking. "Because never in a million years did I see myself ending up here."

  "Then let me help you."

  "I'm not a charity case!"

  "Then let me hire you."

  "Ha." She laughs without humor. "As what? Your whore?"

  "Yes," I say right away. I like that thought. Having her at my beck and call? Waiting for me in my bed whenever I want her? Make that hell yes.

  "No," she responds.

  "Why not? I'll pay you more than you make here, and you'll only have to fuck me."

  "I can't."

  "Can't what? Fuck me? You just did," I say in confusion.

  "No, I can't stop working here."

  "Yes you can. Just walk out the fucking door."

  "I can't!" she exclaims and then says quieter, "I owe Simon."

  "How much?"

  "Probably at least two thousand more."

  "Then I'll pay it off," I tell her. While that amount of money may seem like a significant amount to her, it's nothing to me.

  "He doesn't want the repayment in cash."

  "Oh," I mutter in understanding. She owes him two thousand in the currency of blow jobs and fucks. That son of a bitch. "I don't give a shit, I'm paying it off."

  "I don't really think he swings that way," she says, trying to joke. I don't find any of this shit funny.

  "He'll take my cash or nothing."

  "You're definitely underestimating his sleaziness."

  "Get dressed. We're getting the fuck out of here," I tell her as I climb out of the bed to find my clothes.

  "Eric, I can't. He'll come after me. He-he already did when I took a sick day once. He knows where I live."

  I pause in the middle of buttoning my dress shirt to ask through clenched teeth, "What'd he do to you?"

  "It doesn't matter-"

  "What. Did. He. Do?"

  "I-I guess you could say I worked from home that night."

  "That motherfucker!"

  "Don't, Eric. Please don't!" she exclaims, scrambling off the bed and grabbing my arm to stop me when I reach for the door. "He knows about my little boys."

  Her little boys?

  "You're married and have kids!?!"

  When she laughs at my question I realize too late how naive it was of me.

  "This might come as quite a surprise Frederick Coughlin, III, but babies can actually be conceived outside of marriage."

  "You're a single mother?"

  "Yes."

  Holy hell. Now her working here makes a little more sense. It's not to just support herself but her sons. "How old are they?"

  "Three, and I won't risk them. It's not worth it."

  Wow, she has three-year-old twins?

  "I'll give you enough money to get the hell out of this town, and that's final," I tell her, jerking the door open.

  I storm through the filthy, crowded building even though she calls for me to stop. This time I don't ask a waitress where he is, I head to the back, looking for Simon's office.

  Alone in the dingy, hallway I ask myself what the hell I’m doing. I know I'm out of my mind for getting so worked up over a woman I don’t know, yet...I can't rein my anger in. And no, despite what I just offered, I don't want Hope to leave town now that I found her again. One problem at a time.

  Stalking further down the mold and mildew ridden corridor, I finally find the office where Simon's leaning back in his chair, feet crossed on his desk, and a cell phone to his ear. When he sees me, he shoots straight up and tells the person on the other end that he'll call them back. Damn right he will.

  "Is-is there a problem with Cinnamon?"<
br />
  God, I hate that name even though it reminds me of how good she tastes.

  "Yeah, she's done working for you," I respond.

  He blinks at me a few times before he shakes his head. "We have a contract that can't be broken until it's fulfilled. Sorry, Mr. Coughlin, but even you don't have the authority to break that."

  The fucker's right, unfortunately, unless I’m prepared to wage a civil war. But telling me I can't do something is like throwing down the gauntlet. I always get what I want. "I'll pay it off. Name the price."

  "Why is she so important to you?" he asks with a smirk, leaning back casually in his chair. Damn it. If my enemies, the number of which grows larger each day, find out I have a soft spot for a whore, they'll come after her to try and get to me, putting her sons at risk too.

  "She's not. I just didn't get my fill tonight," I lie, which is always a bad idea with a vampire who can sense the slightest shift in your body language, heart rate, and tone.

  "There's always tomorrow," he says with an even wider grin. I'm not liking the suddenly cocky vibes he's putting off. Earlier he was a coward and now he has a backbone? Something's definitely up.

  Fuck. I can't demand that Hope not fuck anyone else or it'll prove my weakness for her. "Maybe another night this week," I reluctantly say as I turn around and walk out the door.

  …

  Hope

  When Eric doesn't come back, I assume he realized I was right. Or he changed his mind and figured I just wasn't worth it. I wait like an idiot again for him for half an hour before I leave the room to collect tonight's pay and change clothes to go home. I should've learned my lesson about that damn man when he never came back Halloween night.

  I step out into the dimly lit hallway and see Simon heading toward me with a tall, lean man dressed in a suit behind him.

  "Here's the lovely Cinnamon now," he tells the man.