Holiday Bites: A Collection of Vampire Paranormal Romances

by Michele Bardsley

  “Oh, all right. Come in and kiss me.”

  She should’ve known he wouldn’t settle for a mere peck on the cheek. No, he cupped her face, stared deeply into her eyes, and brushed his lips across hers.

  Electric thrills raced up her spine. His fingers slid into her damp hair and he angled his head for better access. His lips were like a butterfly cavorting among wildflowers. Landing, flitting away, capturing, but not conquering.

  By the time his tongue pierced the seam of her mouth, her knees had gone watery.

  Damn, the man could kiss.

  His tongue drew hers into a mating dance. Trixie clung to his arms, her heart pounding erratically. I like him, her body trilled. He should stay and do more naughty things.

  All too soon, Marc pulled away. As he stepped back, she nearly lost her balance. He steadied her, his eyes showing both his desire and his caution.

  She stared up at him, confused and delirious and hot. She pressed trembling fingers to her swollen lips.

  “I want very much to spend the night with you,” he said. “Let me make love to you, Trixie. Please.”

  She’d bet a whole month’s salary that this guy rarely, if ever, said please. And maybe she was still rattled, but he sure sounded desperate—like if he couldn’t have her, he’d just die from the wanting.

  Trixie couldn’t form a denial. She didn’t think sex for the sake of sex was something she’d like. But the way this man made her feel—oo-wee, she’d never felt such lust. Not even for Benny, who couldn’t unhook her bra without a light on and an instruction manual.

  She bet this guy could unhook a bra in one second flat. She stared at him, and he stared back, and she made her decision.

  “Okay,” said Trixie.

  He took her chin and gave her another one of his sexy, deep stares. “Are you sure? Oddly enough, I want you to … want me. Sincerely. Without any coercion.”

  She wasn’t exactly sure what he was talking about, but she understood that he needed reassurance.

  “I want you,” she said simply. “My thoughts, my actions are my own.”

  “As are mine.”

  Marc shut the door and turned the lock. When he turned to face her, she could see that his confidence had returned. He wore arrogance as comfortably as some men wore coats.

  He walked to her and untied the loose knot in the robe’s belt. He slid it from the loops and her robe gaped open. He draped the belt around his neck then pushed the robe off her shoulders.

  The terry cloth pooled at her feet. She wasn’t ashamed of her body. Let him look. She kept in shape, though she was short and her breasts were on the small side. His fingers traced the stretch marks on her stomach. His gaze flicked to hers.

  “You are a mother?”

  “I have a seven-year-old daughter. Her name is Sadie.”

  He flattened his palm against her tummy. To her surprise, he knelt in front of her and pressed his lips to her slightly rounded belly. For a weird moment, she felt as though he was worshipping her.

  Sliding lower, he kissed her wet heat, his tongue sliding into her moist folds. She clutched at his hair as she spread her legs further apart. He flicked her clit rapidly. Pleasure sparkled, as hot and bright as tonight’s promised fireworks.

  He worked two fingers inside, curling them up to rub against the bundle of nerves above her entrance. As he stroked in and out, his tongue did marvelous things to her clit.

  Her fingers dug into his skull as he stoked her higher and higher. Trixie tipped over the edge, flying into dazzling pleasure. She nearly fell over, but Marc held on to her, his mouth roving over her flesh, his tongue lapping.

  Marc stood up.

  Her whole body quaked. What had just happened? The man had only been in her room for five minutes and had already given her an orgasm. She wasn’t sure what to do. Thank him and ask for more? She couldn’t get her voice to work.

  But he didn’t need her encouragement or her permission.

  He pulled the belt off his neck then walked behind her. He grasped both her arms and put them behind her back, tying her wrists with the robe’s belt.

  She didn’t protest. She had never done bondage, but it appeared that tonight would be filled with many firsts. As she waited to see what Marc would do next, she heard the whisper of falling clothes and thunking shoes. When he returned, he was naked. His impressive cock jutted from a spring of dark curls. He wasn’t circumcised, either.

  Wow. Another first for her.

  He looked her over, his gaze dark with lust. Just that look re-ignited her lust. Her nipples hardened under that amorous scrutiny. She ached to be touched, to be kissed, to be ravished.

  But Marc merely smiled then turned and walked into the bathroom. She heard him rattling through the drawers and wondered what the hell he could possibly need.

  He returned with dental floss.

  Obviously, he wasn’t interested in tooth care. He unwound a long strand then put the floss case onto the nightstand. Marc closed the distance between them and leaned forward, sucking on her nipple. The peak bloomed in his hot mouth. He blew on it and her flesh crinkled. For good measure, he twisted the turgid point until she gasped.

  Then he took the floss and wound it three times around her nipple. The pressure was intense and the waxy string bit into her sensitive peak. He leaned down and suckled her other nipple, blowing across her skin again before twisting it hard.

  She exhaled a shaky breath. Her bound nipple throbbed as he bound the other one with the floss. Then he tied the loose ends together.

  Trixie panted, closing her eyes as she tried to absorb the pain. It pulsed in her nipples. A matching rhythm thrummed in her sex. Shuddering, she opened her eyes and found Marc staring at her.

  “You are so beautiful.” His hands coasted down her sides, stopping to rest on her hips. His scooted close, pressing his cock against her weeping pussy. Her over-sensitized nipples scraped across the hair on his chest.

  Trixie cried out.

  She shuddered, her body overwhelmed by the erotic thrills of pleasure and pain. Marc lifted her left leg, drawing it around his waist. As she balanced on the other leg, he worked his cock inside her pussy. God, he was huge, filling her, stretching her.

  His other hand cupped her ass to steady her as he began to thrust. Trixie moaned. Had anything ever felt so good? She couldn’t do much but accept his plunging cock. Her raw nipples brushed against his chest, every raw movement spiraling into her cunt.

  Marcus groaned, stilled, his eyes rolling back in his head as he came. She felt the jerking of his cock, the hot spurt of his seed, and clenched him to keep him inside her.

  She was sweaty and breathless, leaning against him as he recovered from his orgasm.

  “No worries, Trixie. I can stay hard for a long time.”

  True to his word, his cock was firm and full inside her. She didn’t care that he was a superman. She was too close to her own pleasure to question his virility.

  He brushed a kiss across her mouth then he withdrew from her. He led her to the bed, laying on it and patting the spot next to him.

  “Come here, Trixie.”

  She did as he asked, crawling onto the bed. Marc grasped his shaft and she took his meaning instantly. She straddled him and he helped guide his cock into her aching cunt.

  For a long moment, she could do nothing but absorb all the sensations rocketing through her. Then Marc grasped her hips and thrust upward. Trixie rode him as best she could with tied arms.

  He was merciless, his eyes never leaving hers as he fucked her. Her whole body felt on fire. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. Since she felt the thrust of a real cock.

  “Marc,” she moaned. “Oh, Marc!”

  “Marcus.”

  She looked down at him, dazed. “What?”

  “Call me Marcus.”

  Something flashed in her brain. She knew that name, but the details were fuzzy. Oh, hell. What did it matter? She began a frantic pace, grinding her clit against hi
m. He let her take the lead and she built her own pleasure. It wound tighter and tighter, threatening to shatter.

  Marcus reached up and pinched her swollen, raw nipples.

  The orgasm screamed through her. “Oh, God! Marcus!”

  For a long moment she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus.

  Marcus untied the floss and freed her nipples. Blood returned the battered peaks and offered a painful rush of incredible sensations. Then he untied her wrists. Her arms tingled and she rubbed the circulation back into them.

  God, she was wrung out. She rolled onto her side and lay next to Marcus, her hand drifting through the black curls on his chest.

  A whistling noise was followed by a loud pop.

  “The fireworks have started,” said Marcus. “Do want to watch?”

  “Nothing can compete with your brand of fireworks.”

  He chuckled, threading his fingers through hers. “No regrets?”

  “No,” she lied. “None at all.”

  “Good.” He paused. “I have something to tell you.”

  She looked at him, wondering about the tone of his voice. He sounded worried. Her gaze drifted to his cock and she froze. “No condoms. Oh, shit!”

  He shook his head. “I’m sterile. And I’m disease-free.”

  Relief rushed through her. “Thank God.” She rose onto her elbow and stared at him. “I mean, not that you’re sterile. I’m disease-free, too. So, what is it?”

  “I’m a vampire.”

  He sounded completely serious, but he had to be joking. She laughed. “Yeah, right.” His expression didn’t change. Her heart stuttered in her chest. “That’s impossible.”

  “I’m real. And if you don’t believe me, ask Steven and Michael. They’re vampires, too.”

  “What?” She wanted to deny it and call him crazy or a liar. But she hesitated.

  Both men worked at night. Eve and Val always had ready excuses about why their husbands weren’t available for day functions.

  No. It was too ridiculous. She’d seen Steven and Michael at conferences. In the evenings.

  “Trixie.” Marcus captured her gaze again. As she watched, his fangs descended and his opaque eyes went red. He took her hand and pressed her palm flat against his chest.

  No heartbeat.

  “My name is Marcus Moravius.”

  Oh, dear God. Surely she had not slept with one of the top agents in New York. Her heart started to pound. No. No way. Then she realized that sleeping with a power player in the publishing industry was the least of her problems. The man thought he was the undead.

  Lord-a-mercy.

  “I was born in the year nineteen, the son of a Roman general and a noblewoman. I knew how to wield a sword before the age of ten. Because of my father’s influence, I was allowed into the army at the age of sixteen. I was mentored into the Praetorian Guard and became a friend and bodyguard to Emperor Caligula.”

  Fascinated despite her doubts, she didn’t scramble off the bed and try to run away. He seemed to be waiting for her to do that.

  “I watch History Channel,” she offered. “He was crazy.”

  “Yes.”

  “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just don’t say good-bye.”

  Trixie saw his vulnerability. She felt a connection to him, one forged by their passion. If he’d been human… but no, he was a vampire. And that meant he drank blood.

  She had Sadie to think of, too. What kind of mother would she be if she brought a bloodsucker into their lives?

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “This is all just too much.”

  In the moment before he closed his eyes, she saw a flash of pain. She realized then that he was not a man who admitted to his true nature. He had a taken a risk on her. And she had rejected him.

  Her heart ached for him, for them, for what could never be.

  One week later…

  “MOMMA,” SAID SADIE as she speared a chicken nugget with her fork, “What is a literal agent?”

  Trixie looked up from the pile of bills on the kitchen table. Her lunch—a baloney sandwich—was untouched. She blinked at her daughter. “What?”

  “It’s on that letter.”

  Trixie looked at the mail she’d gathered earlier from the mailbox. Sure enough, the top letter had a return address from the Marcus Moravius Literary Agency.

  She picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside was a letter offering representation. Instead of being thrilled, she was unaccountably disappointed.

  “Finish your lunch,” she said. “Momma has to make an important phone call.”

  “Okay.” Sadie picked up a carrot slice and tried to feed it to her teddy bear, Winsor.

  Trixie looked at the clock on the wall. It was close to five p.m. Chances were good nobody was in the office. She dialed the number anyway and asked for Marcus.

  “Whom may I ask is calling?” said a cultured and decidedly snooty female.

  “Trixie Jameson. I write as a Lanie Haart.”

  “Oh, Ms. Haart! How lovely to hear from you. My name is Alice.” The voice warmed considerably. “We are truly looking forward to working with you. We’ve all read your partial for Never Love Again. It’s quite wonderful.”

  Trixie paused. She hadn’t thought representation had been offered based on her work, especially since she had never submitted that partial—or any other project—to Marcus.

  “Thank you, Alice. Now, will you tell that no-good son-of-a-bitch I wouldn’t be his client if he was the last agent on Earth? I’d surely appreciate it.” She slammed the receiver down.

  Oo-wee! She’d rather never write again than trade her principles and pride for a contract earned by making love to Marcus. She couldn’t regret her choice to sleep with him. She’d enjoyed it too much.

  But she couldn’t be bought, damn it. And she didn’t need compensation, either.

  TRIXIE FLOPPED ONTO the couch, exhausted. Getting Sadie into the bath, teeth brushed, pajamas on, story read, and tucked into bed was a two-hour ordeal. Finally, her little girl had gone to sleep with Windsor keeping watch on her pillow.

  Her guts had been churning all day, thanks to Marcus. She alternated between being really pissed-off and really disappointed. She stared at the TV and realized she didn’t want to watch mindless sitcoms, so she turned it off. She couldn’t quite work up the energy to go get her laptop. She really needed to write five more pages, but she was too tired to move.

  Someone knocked on the front door. It was only eight o’clock, but even so, she didn’t know anyone who might visit her on a Tuesday night. She looked through the peephole.

  Her heart beat wildly.

  She flung the door open, stepped across the threshold, and opened her mouth to give Marcus a good what-for. Instead, the fool dragged her into his arms and kissed her senseless.

  And she let him.

  When he finally let her get a breath, she couldn’t quite find the ire necessary to yell at him.

  “May I come in?”

  “Like you need an invitation.”

  “Actually, I do.”

  “Fine. Come in.”

  “I got your message.” He followed her into the apartment, looking around her simple furnishings and small space.

  “It’s nothing fancy, but it suits me and Sadie.” Trixie sat on the couch and looked up at him. “What do you want?”

  “You.” He walked to the bookshelf and plucked a picture of Sadie from the framed photographs. He returned the picture. “And I know you’re a package deal. I hope that Sadie will like me. Maybe even one day love me.”

  “Putting the cart before the horse, aren’t you?” Trixie watched him pace, and tried not to hope for too much. Had Marcus thought about her as much as she’d thought about him?

  “Yes, I have. A lot.”

  Trixie’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t say that aloud.”

  “I’m a vampire. I can read your thoughts.” He stopped pacing, rounded the coffee table, and sat n
ext to her. He grasped her hands. “I love you, Trixie.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Like being a vampire isn’t possible?” He made a sound of frustration. “I thought Steven and Michael were fools. They married mortals. And they’re happy. I didn’t understand.” He looked nervous. Did he truly fear what she might say or do? “Trixie, you’re in my head, my heart. I can’t stop thinking about you or wanting you. I have never felt this way about a lover. My little girls were the closest thing to love I have ever known—until you.”

  “You have… had children?”

  He hesitated, his expression guarded, and then he admitted, “They were murdered.”

  “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Marcus.”

  “It was a long time ago, but sometimes it still feels like it happened yesterday.” He looked at her. “My wife and daughters were assassinated by Caligula. A few months later, I was part of the conspiracy to kill him. We rid the world of a monster—I’ll never regret that.”

  Trixie felt overwhelmed. She was sitting on a couch with a man who’d lived nearly a thousand years. He’d seen the world destroyed and rebuilt many times. He’d live through the deaths of his family and God knew who else. Right now, all she saw was his pain, his need to reach out to another.

  She wanted, more than anything, to take him into her arms and allow him into her heart. But he was a vampire. And she wouldn’t risk Sadie. Not even for love.

  “No! I would never hurt Sadie. I would plunge my sword into my own heart, Trixie, rather than see your daughter hurt.” He cupped her face, brushing his thumbs along her cheeks. “I would gladly give my life a hundred times over if I meant I could have my children back. Sadie will always have my protection. No one will ever harm her.”

  Trixie wasn’t sure about anything. She wanted to explore her relationship with Marcus, but she was scared. And then there was the blood thing.

  “I don’t have to take sustenance from humans,” he said, once again reading her thoughts. “It is highly pleasurable to sink my fangs into a willing neck, but I often get what I need from blood banks.” His gaze caressed her throat. “But we must mark our mates. It’s both a sign of possession and protection.”