Alpha Vampire Romance: Vampire’s Mate (Paranormal Shapeshifter Alpha Demon Vampire Romance) (Coming of Age Werewolf BBW Shifter Women’s Fiction Short Stories)

by Rebecca Abbott

  It took him a while to find the key, which was residing in the front pocket of his jeans, and a couple more moments to actually slide the key inside the keyhole. Most of the time, she was giggling like a little child when doing a mischief. His mouth, though, was forming a tense line, and his eyes were scanning the hallway for any witnesses. I already feel dirty enough for paying this woman, I don't want to remember any of it tomorrow morning. However, he knew that if he was able to complete this thought successfully, he would also remember about his night with her.

  “Wow, I never thought that a room this nice was hiding behind this door,” the whore exclaimed.

  Her eyes seemed so alluring to him just then. I wish I could take you with me, he thought. I would give you the world to stop working here. But his intense look was interpreted as a sexual call by his companion. She started taking her clothes off hastily, without paying any attention to eroticism. For once, Jack's mind completely blacked out; the only thing driving his actions now were his instincts.

  He started undressing too, savagely unbuttoning his shirt, as well as his jeans. She was already lying on the bed naked. She immediately started playing with her clitoris, making small moans every time she completed a small circle around it. Her eyes were shut at first, but soon she opened them and looked straight into his eyes. With her hand still circling around, she whispered at him. “You really have the most beautiful eyes I've seen.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows as soon as he heard her talking. Is she for real? he wondered. His stretched cock and his hand already pulling the skin around it proved that somehow she had found his soft spot. Not able to hold himself back anymore, he took a step closer to her. Her moans were getting louder, but Jack was way past the turning point.

  “I want you to stop pretending. If you don't feel like it, then don't do anything,” he commanded. For a moment Jack thought he saw a puzzled expression on her face. I must have imagined it, he thought. But he wasn't able to hold back his urges anymore. His hand touched her breast and started squeezing it softly. Then, with the back of his palm, he caressed her belly before slowly making his way to her clitoris.

  “If you wanted to play with that, you should have told me sooner,” he whispered. She had returned to her earlier stance, with her eyes closed, but she was acting differently now. At first, she wasn't wet. Jack pulled his finger out, and then back in many times. When she started feeling more comfortable, he upped his pace and started getting deeper. Her moans have returned now, but they were mostly deep exhales.

  Suddenly, her hand was helping his, driving it around, leading it to the right places. Jack’s dick was standing upright, and he wasn't able to hold back anymore. He took his finger out. It was covered with her honey. Then, he grabbed her thighs and moved her closer to him, at the edge of the bed. With his hands still on her thighs, he opened her legs. It was time for him to get inside.

  He slid inside her and pushed. With silent cries, she seemed like she wasn't feeling pleasure, but it was part of the procedure. He started fucking her differently. Slowly, then hastily, then slowly again. She started to warm up to it, but Jack wasn't ready to let her go yet. He pulled himself out and then made her stand on her knees. He was going to get her from behind.

  It was a bit more difficult, but after a while, she had returned at the loud moans and he was silently pushing even deeper.

  “I think I'm close,” she murmured. Jack was close too, but unable to talk.

  He pulled himself out one last time and the sturdily pushed his dick back in. They both left a loud cry; she had an orgasm and Jack pulled himself out hastily and ejaculated on the floor. After months of abstention, his cum was thick and plenty. But most surprisingly, she was panting too, acting like an inexperienced virgin. However, after a long day of drunkenness and sore muscles, Jack lay on the bed with most of his clothes on, although unbuttoned, and quickly fell asleep.

  ***

  A creaking sound coming from the bed woke Jack up. At first, he wasn't able to open his eyes due to an unbearable headache. He rubbed his forehead with his hands trying to make the headache go away, but he found out that it only made matters worse. Even though he was unable to talk, or see, he could clearly hear a woman's breathing coming from the side of the bed, sitting next to him.

  Feeling surprised, he forced his eyes open after all and the stinging sun rays made him moan. His blurred sight made everything look like it was shining, but after taking a quick look around, he saw the dancer's naked body bending to get her clothes from the floor. I'd completely forgotten about her, Jack thought. He rubbed his eyes again, and tried to focus on her more clearly.

  Her back was scarred in some places, but overall, she was beautiful. Probably a bad deal with a customer or her pimp. Damn, he huffed. It was then he caught the dancer's attention.

  “Oh fuck...you're awake. You haven't paid enough for a second round,” she said shiveringly. There was something about her manner. Is she afraid of me? he wondered.

  He was watching her trembling eyes for quite a while without saying a thing. She returned his intense look with a tint of debunked happiness, the one she used to enchant him. However, her eyes had that usual lonely, brown color. Then, it struck him. That was the feeling he was getting since yesterday while he was looking at her eyes. She was lonely, and afraid, looking for a way out—exactly like he was.

  “What's your name?” she suddenly asked after some time of indeterminable glaring.

  “Jack. Just Jack,” he replied.

  “Just Jack. Now that's a common name. And where you're off to today?”

  “I'm going back to south. I'm looking for a job for the winter. And I'm not leaving until tomorrow.”

  The woman seemed more laid back after taking a deep breath. “Another passerby. I wish I had your life, always moving, moving away from everything that I don't like.”

  “It's not like that at all. I'm living on the road, never staying to one place long enough, never making any friends, not living my life. I'm just a passerby.”

  Jack desperately wanted a glass of whiskey to go with his words, but only in the thought of it, his headache returned as intense as ever. He repositioned himself onto the bed, and he was now standing with his back against the bed's head. The woman was still bent over the floor, naked. With her left hand she was covering her breasts and with her right hand she was looking for something.

  “Shit, where did my fucking underwear go?” She swore some more before deciding to stand on her feet. Jack couldn't hold his eyes off her butt, and that was something that she immediately noticed. Surprisingly, she let a smile and slowly took her hand away from her chest.

  “Come on cowboy, I can let you milk these titties, for the right price.”

  Her sayings made him sick. “Just stop. What happened yesterday was a mistake. I don't pay for whores, and I don't fuck women who act like whores.” His hands were buckling his clothes while he was talking.

  She had a quizzical expression on her face, probably waiting a different answer from him. Hastily, she picked something from the floor and also covered her breast once again. “You're an asshole,” she said and moved towards the door. She looked behind once again, searching for a sign of remorse, but Jack was nowhere close to apologizing to her.

  Furiously shaking her head, she made sure to make a lot of noise while getting out of the room. That's why I don't like whores, especially the ones with feelings. They make you feel bad about yourself, but especially for them. He turned his head around, looking for his hat; he found it under the woman's heavy dress. He got on his feet, grabbed it. But, before he was ready to head downstairs, he found a piece of a rumpled paper on the floor.

  “What is this?” he whispered. He bent over, grabbed it, and moved back to his bed. After laying his back once again against the bed's head, he started examining it. The ink had faded out, giving off the feeling that someone had read this letter many times in the past. It was difficult to make out even a single word from this weathered pap
er, but only a couple of them where enough for Jack to understand.

  “Dear Anne,” Jack read it out loud. Who is this Anne? He continued reading. “Hmm... arrived... the war is harsh... I miss you... be careful…” and it was going on and on. Near the end, he was able to clearly distinguish the stains that tears had made over the rough paper.

  “What are you doing?” a woman's voice came from the other side of the room, close to where the door was. Jack raised his head slowly and saw the now dressed dancer watching him with her hands in front of her chest.

  “I found this on the floor,” he replied. The woman rushed to his side and savagely pulled the weathered piece of paper from his hands.

  “You shouldn't stick your nose to other people's business. Do you understand?” she raged at him. Before he was able to reply to her, the upset woman was already heading towards the door. However, when she was almost out of the room, Jack had an unprecedented idea.

  “Anne?” The sound of that name made her froze still. Unable to move or talk back to him, she was now staring at the floor. Seemingly, she wanted to say something to explain her reaction, but she thought that it was better to just leave the room.

  Now, that was weird. She was the girl from the letter, Jack thought. But, why didn't she say a thing? And why is she working as a prostitute if she is waiting for someone? Somehow he knew that there was only one logical explanation. “He died during the war,” he said.

  Before he was able to change his mind, he grabbed his boots and put them on. I have to learn more about her, and he knew exactly the person for that. He hastily moved downstairs and found the restless barman talking to one of the men that Jack had been gambling with last night. He walked towards the bar and the two men greeted him.

  “Good morning young lad. Is there something I can do for you?” For his own reasons, the barman was looking undeniably happy. This must be because I spent so much money last night in this shithole. This also means he is still sweetened by the cash and he will probably answer my questions easier.

  “Mornin',” Jack replied monotonously. Abruptly, now that he thought about it once again, he was too ashamed to talk about her in front of the stranger man. So, he devised a different way to make his questions.

  “Do you know anything about someone named Anne? I think she is working here,” Jack asked, hoping that the barman would pick up on his discretion and reply with discretion himself.

  “Oh, you mean the girl you slept with last night?” Jack immediately groaned, ready to hit the old geezer.

  “Yes, that girl,” said Jack in a more low-pitched tone.

  “Yes, what about her? Did she do anything inappropriate?” He had now caught the attention of the other man at the bar too.

  “No, not at all. Could you please tell me a bit more about her? How did she end up... working here?” He carefully emphasized his last words.

  “Don't get any ideas lad. She doesn't belong to you, nor me. She only belongs to Ian, the one who... pays her. I would advise you to stay out of this story.” He was now holding one of those crystal clear glasses, again wiping it clean, or cleaner. Jack wasn't happy with the man's answer though.

  “I didn't ask for your advice, old man. I thought you were more than happy with the money I gave you last night.” Scornfully, and eloquently, he made the barman put the glass down and cause the other man to move back sneakily.

  “Okay, okay. I will tell you, but please leave my name out of your business with Mr. Ian. Is that okay?” Jack quickly nodded. “Our dear little Anne. How did she end up here, you ask? Well, same way every other girl did. They were promised a big wedding and riches by their fiancés, but then all of them went and died in the foolish war. Anne, particularly, was engaged to a very good, but very poor and stupid lad named Toby. He was working for Mr. Ian before the war, and he also had borrowed money from him, with huge interest. But Mr. Ian is ruthless when it comes to money, and after Toby died he sought out his fiancée and demanded his money. Since the poor girl wasn't able to pay him, he made her come with him and work as one of his girls. That's her sorry story, and that's almost every girl's story in here. You and your stupid wars…”

  So, she was Anne after all. And her fiancé had died during the war. He was now feeling bad for making her feel like garbage this morning. He was also feeling disgusted by people like “Mr. Ian”, people whose actions were driven solely by money's sweet song. Even so, his mind was still standing undecided. Now what? What can I do? What should I do?

  In the meantime, Anne had got all dressed up. She was now wearing another long dress, with long sleeves and a big hat. She wasn't looking like a cheap whore anymore, but like a lady worth marrying. Even so, her eyes have lost their spark and her mouth her wit. She looked like someone who would rather be anywhere else, probably traveling in places unknown. Their eyes met only for a second; otherwise Anne made sure to avoid him the whole time, no matter how intensely he was longing for another look.

  It was getting late and Jack had neglected his tasks for the day. Lad is probably famished by now, and I really need those resources. But I will come back, he thought. So, the lonely cowboy grabbed his hat and moved towards the swinging doors. He took one last glance before pushing them, seeking out Anne's eyes again. This time, he was the one smiling, his wide grin full of promise. He straightened the edge of his hat, nodded, and left.

  After turning his back, Anne let herself enjoy a sense of encouragement by his acts. Jack didn't know that the woman had been eavesdropping the whole time, feeling melancholic about her life's story. But Jack had insisted, and clearly defied the barman's warnings. What if? she thought. What if? It was then that Mr. Ian entered the room.

  ***

  Jack was pleased with himself. He actually managed to get all the supplies he needed, and was ready to go anytime now. All the same, he had paid for two days for the room back in the saloon, and he needed a plan to help take Anne out of there. I can kidnap her and tie her on the saddle? No, too risky. Maybe I can talk her out of it and help her escape? No, she would probably refuse.

  After spending the rest of his morning asking around for Mr. Ian, the most common answers were, don't know, be careful, and keep out. Why is the whole town so afraid of this man? That was until he met a lady brave enough to fully explain the situation to him.

  “Mr. Ian owns half the city, and is looking to buy the other half. His thugs are everywhere, collecting rent and 'persuading' those not able to pay. If you know your place, stay out of his way. He can have someone kill you with just a nod.” The gray haired woman turned and grabbed her share of the money that Jack was holding in his hand. Then, she moved away before he was able to ask any more questions.

  So, he is just a big, rich, bully. Now, that may prove to be a problem. Still, once he set his mind into something, it was almost impossible for anyone to change his mind. He had decided that he would help her escape, even if that was the last thing he would do. Therefore, while walking all the way back to the saloon, he was thinking of ways to sneak her out. It wasn't until almost outside the shady building that Jack heard a loud laugh coming from inside.

  “Drunks this early in the morning? What a shame,” he murmured while passing in front of a bunch of armed men. He could see their hands resting on the back of their guns. Jack lowered his hat and then put his hands inside his pockets, and started whistling. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself, and from his experience he knew that if he covered his face it was easier for him to pass unnoticed.

  His steps were small and relaxed, and his whistling soft and reassuring. It also helped the fact that these guys were dull-witted and unable to think. This is like stealing candy from a baby, Jack thought, although he wasn't quite sure why he was so plainly hiding from these guys. Supposedly, they don't know that I'm going to talk to Anne. However, his gut was telling him not to doubt himself and just cover his face. You never know.

  Finally, he managed to get close to the swinging doors. By now, the laughing h
ad turned into a thunderous quarrel between an old man and a woman. Before getting inside, Jack stopped and listened. This voice is somehow familiar. Suddenly, he realized that it belonged to Anne. He brutally punched the swinging doors, but that didn't seem to help relieve the stress between the two adults. Both of them were standing on the other side of the room, yelling to each other.

  “I couldn't do anything,” said Anne. “I had something to do, and when I returned all of the customers were already occupied!” Her face was a blend of anger and fear. The man on the other side was the only new face around here; a 65-year-old, pompous man, with freckles around his face and white hair everywhere. His face looked deep-lined, but fat had stretched his skin so much that his neck had vanished and his cheeks were rosy like a little child's.

  “Always you and your excuses. The poor little Anne who wants to travel and get out of this town. I have one piece of advice for your kid; stop having illusions. You're stuck here for rest of your life, doing what you know best; being a whore.” His words really seemed to have an impact on her, quickly silencing her. But it seemed he still hadn't had enough. “After all this barking you suddenly decide to shut up? Come here, you bitch,” he said, and grabbed her hand roughly.

  For a plump man he was sure strong, making the frail woman scream and fight off his grasp. Jack was silently watching the whole scene unravel, but hearing Anne shouting woke something bad inside him. His mind had blacked out; he moved towards the barman and smoothly took his hat off and left it on the bar. Then, with his face emitting a dark aura, he took two huge strides, raised his fist, and punched Mr. Ian in the face.

  The fat man let go of Anne before tripping on a table's leg and falling on the floor with a big bang. Jack was still panting from anger, and his gaze scorched the fallen man. Unable to stand up by himself, Jack didn't miss his chance and moved above him. With his hands around his neck, he was unable to talk.