NYC VAMPS (The Italians): Vampire Romance (Book Book 2)

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NYC VAMPS (The Italians): Vampire Romance (Book Book 2) Page 10

by Sky Winters


  “Let me,” she said before rolling her weight to the side.

  Vincent realized with a coy smile what she was up to, and moved with her until he was on his back and she was on top of him. She folded her legs at his sides, and put her hands on his chest, the feeling of his taut muscles on her palms turning her on even further. She took his cock once more by the base and lifting up enough to accommodate its length, positioned herself over it. Looking down at Vincent with a sensual smile, she slowly lowered herself on him until she was once again filled.

  Simone started with a slow rocking of her hips but soon began to buck hand and harder. Closing his eyes and resting his hands on her hips, Vincent allowed himself to lie back and let Simone do the work. She leaned closer to him, letting her breasts hang down until her nipples touched his chest. She kissed his neck, letting her hair draped over him. He took in a deep, slow breath, letting the smell of her dominate his senses. Her rocking was now a pounding, as she moved her hips faster and faster, her breath now a sharp pant. Vincent moved his hands lower, onto her ass, squeezing the flesh of her rear hard. Pulling one hand back, he slapped her ass with an open palm, to which Simone reacted with a quick gasp.

  “Do it again,” she said.

  “Only if you say ‘please,’” said Vincent, his voice low and steady.

  “Please; oh, please.”

  “’Please’ what?”

  “Slap my ass; please slap my ass hard.”

  Getting what he wanted, he complied. Pulling back his hand once again, he brought it against her cheek with a hard strike, a wave of hot pain running through her lower body and building on the orgasm that was now on the verge of happening. He pulled back and struck her ass once more, moving the orgasm even closer. Vincent moved his body up, and, keeping one hand on her ass, took her breast in his hand and licked her nipple with lashing darts of his tongue.

  “Oh God, I’m gonna cum,” he said as Simone bounced over and over on top of his cock.

  Her own orgasm was close and inevitable. And as soon as she felt the first spray of cum inside of her, it was released, rushing through her body like a wave of molten lava. Her skin burst into tingles, and her back arch as the orgasm rushed through her body. Vincent groaned as he came, and the thought and feeling of his cock shooting loads of hot cum deep inside her, filling her totally and completely, sent her orgasm spiraling further into total pleasure. She reached up and squeezed her breasts as Vincent grabbed onto her hips as the last pulses of his orgasm finished. And as he did, so did she, collapsing on his chest, a sweating mass of exhausted breaths.

  She listened to Vincent’s heart race in heavy thumps as she caught her breath. He took long, slow breaths through his nose while running his hand over the curve of her lower back. Then, with a soft grunt, she rolled off him, the feeling of his cum leaking out of her giving her a sense of final satisfaction.

  They laid there for a while, looking at the city through the massive windows of their new apartment. The night sky was calm, and from their height over a thousand feet above the city streets, the millions of people below were invisible, the only trace of their existence being the slow, twinkling lines of cars moving down the grids of Manhattan.

  “I’m still not used to the new place,” said Vincent, dragging the backs of his nails over Simone’s skin.

  “There’s a lot that I’m still not used to,” she replied with a smile.

  The lights in the apartment dimmed for a moment, and a warm chime sounded through the room.

  “Expecting someone?” asked Simone.

  Vincent thought for a second before his face changed to an expression of realization.

  “Yeah, shit, we’re meeting with Anthony and the rest of them; I totally forgot,” he said, rolling out of bed and looking around the room for his clothes. As he darted around and picked up his clothes, he tossed whatever of Simone’s he found over to her.

  “I suggest you put on a little more than that,” he said, tossing a t-shirt at her, which landed on her face. “No need to give the guests a free show.”

  A smile on her face, she pulled the black t-shirt on and got out of bed, running over to the intercom. She pressed the small, circular button and spoke into the speaker.

  “Oh, hi, hey. Um, come up in ten minutes.”

  The woman’s voice on the other end laughed.

  “Sure, sure,” it said.

  Simone rushed back to the bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans as Vincent finished getting dressed. She heard my entryway open followed by the sounds of several pairs of footsteps. After finishing dressing, she rushed into the main room of the apartment and was greeted with the sight of Anthony and Aron.

  “Look who it is,” she said, giving the two vampires a hug.

  “Hey girl, don’t forget about me,” said another voice from the elevator.

  Simone looked up and saw the figure of Amanda, her expression one of mischief, and fair skin now the deep white of a vampire’s. She ran up to Simone and threw her arms around her neck.

  “Looks like you’re settling into the vampire life pretty well,” said Simone, looking over her friend.

  “Yeah, well it’s not like I had a choice,” she said with a sly smirk.

  “And speaking of ‘settling in…’” said Anthony, looking around the expanse of the apartment, which was now clean and repaired from the battle nearly a week ago.

  “Well, half of the vampires on the lease were dead, the other half are in hiding,” said Vincent, stepping into the room. “Someone had to claim it. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

  The group walked into the living room and took their seats among the couches and chairs.

  “Anthony- you first. How are things going with finding the rest of the Italian separatists?” asked Vincent.

  “Good. I’ve tracked down most, and many are ready to accept the terms of your amnesty. Still a few stragglers, and I’m thinking a handful high-tailed it back to the old country.”

  “Good riddance,” said Vincent, waving his hand in contempt. “Aron- how are our relations with the other societies?”

  “It’s dicey,” he said, his voice ambivalent. “The Polish and Ukrainians are ready to come to some kind of agreement, though they both feel that a sort of…punitive measure needs to be taken. The Irish, on the other hand, might be less forgiving of the actions of our former leaders.”

  “But,” he continued, “there seems to be a sense of relief now that you, who they feel is a little bit of a cooler head, is in charge of the Italian society.”

  He was about to finish speaking but caught himself.

  “Well, now that you both, are in charge of the Italian society,” he said, looking at Simone.

  “Unofficially,” she said, taking a seat next to Vincent, who responded by wrapping his arm around the small of her back.

  “But what about the other elders,” asked Anthony, a worried look on his face. “There are two who are unaccounted for. They could be raising another army as we speak.”

  “They’ll be dealt with,” said Vincent.

  And he knew they need to be. But at the moment, he was happy for the brief respite, and Simone could sense this, and felt the same way. And as they both rose from their seats, looking over the expanse of the night-shrouded city before them, knowing that they were both entrusted with the responsibility of keeping the society alive, they couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear. But as the two lovers looked into one another’s eyes, they felt as though there was nothing that they’d be unable to take on. Together.

  Bonus Stories

  Wolf Shifter Romances

  Biker Wolf’s Baby

  Pushing send was the easiest thing I’d done in a long time. I sincerely hoped that getting under somebody would help me get over that scumbag ex-boyfriend of mine. The last straw came when he told me he was staying in sick one night. I had met up with some friends instead for a few drinks only to see Captain Asshole macking on some chick in Daisy Dukes.

  Now, I wo
uldn’t have said I was proud of my actions. I dumped a top shelf whiskey drink over his head and congratulated the girl on what a great catch she found, but that was nothing compared to the hell I wanted to raise. I’m pretty sure public castration would have landed me in jail so it was better that I controlled myself.

  I just didn’t understand it. I gave and gave to Stephen and for what? I got stuck with the weight of the relationship and more often than not, the tab. All he gave me were lies and twisted mind games for my trouble.

  As I scrolled through the profiles on Come Play, the one-night stand app, a devilish face caught my eye. He was handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy way. His beard was dark and looked soft to touch; I could only imagine how good that would feel tickling my thighs. Amber eyes burned from under a pair of thick dark eyebrows, luring me in. And I was one willing fishy.

  Scanning through his profile, I found that his name was Walker Lewis and he was in a local motorcycle club. We had a winner! Between the brooding smolder and his enthusiasm for motorcycles, I knew I had to have him. The element of mystery and the air of danger radiating from his profile picture intrigued me. I wanted to know more.

  I pushed the interested button and set my phone down. Having spent so much time waiting by the phone for Stephen I’d be damned if I’d it for anyone else.

  I ventured into my tiny cottage kitchen to pour myself a glass of pinot noir to help get myself in the mood. What would it be like to have sex with another man? Stephen and I had been together since high school and he was my first and only. Eight years was a long time to be with one person at that age, and I kind of regretted not venturing out to enjoy being single while I was in college. Now, at twenty-six, all my friends were getting engaged or married; two even had babies while I had been trapped in a loveless cycle of lies and emotional abuse.

  Would this Walker guy be gentle? Awkward? Mind blowing? I hadn’t had an orgasm without a vibrator – or with another person – in so long I had no idea what that would even be like. The erotic possibilities were endless and really exciting.

  I looked around my little two-bedroom cottage. I was so excited to get the place, especially for the price. The sunset shone through the sliding glass door and sparkled off a crystal cut vase I bought as a housewarming gift to myself. The pink light warmed the shabby state of the living space and made my new digs feel like home. Sure, it needed some TLC, but it was only a mile from the beach, charming, and Stephen had no idea where I was.

  As I thumbed through paint swatches, my phone buzzed. My nerves went on high alert as I swiped in the unlock code. There he is. And he’s interested. I was nearly vibrating I was so excited.

  I opened the app to find a message from Walker,

  Meet me at Joker’s. 9pm. Wear a skirt.

  Joker’s? The biker bar? Oh, lord was he a Wraith? Joker’s was the headquarters of the Santa Monica chapter of The Wraiths, a motorcycle club suspected of gun running and more than a few missing people. As far as I knew they didn’t have any charges or suspicions of violence against women. Put a check in the plus column, I guess.

  I glanced at the clock, 7:30. A small thrill of fear ran up my spine. But coupled with that came a sense of simply not giving a shit anymore. Maybe I had been smacked upside the head with stupidity, or maybe I was tired of playing it safe. This guy was hot as hell, properly dangerous, and was only going to be a one shot deal.

  I weighed out my chances and the potential scenarios for a minute. While the obvious choice would be to decline and not walk right into the wolf’s den, there was still a chance things could go well and I might have a good time. After spending my entire adult life being cautious, I was going to take a chance and be bold. I needed this.

  I scrolled through my phone and dialed Crystal, my best friend. While I was willing to indulge my wild side, with The Wraiths not being Boy Scouts I would feel more comfortable if someone knew where I was going to be.

  “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?” Crystal’s cheery voice floated into my ear.

  “Hey, girl. So I got on Come Play like you suggested –“

  “Ooo!” Crystal interrupted, “Bag yourself a hottie yet?”

  “Actually, yeah I did. I’m meeting him tonight around nine, which brings me to why I’m calling. He wants me to meet him at Joker’s and I want someone to know my last known whereabouts.” I was only half joking in my delivery.

  “Joker’s? Are you crazy?” Crystal’s voice went a little high pitched.

  “I might be, but getting with a biker has kind of been a fantasy of mine for a while. It’s just one night. Isn’t that what that app is supposed to be for?”

  “Well, yeah,” I heard Crystal sigh. Silence followed as she worked out her thoughts. “I don’t love the idea, but I guess you have to get some things out of your system. Can you just make sure your friend tracker is turned on for me?”

  I smiled, grateful for her concern. “I will. Crys, I’m nervous. What if I suck in bed? What if he takes one look at me and decides he doesn’t like me?”

  “Whoa! Settle down there, horsey. You’re over thinking this. It’s a fuck him and go situation, so don’t worry about it. Be safe and have fun.”

  I nodded as she spoke. Crystal was right; this was all about having a good time.

  “And maybe pick up that roofie detection paper on the way?” Crystal suggested.

  I barked a nervous laugh. “I’ll be fine. Good looking out, though. I’ve got to go and get ready. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Crystal and I said our goodbyes and I went to my room to get ready. While I was nervous as hell, I couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of excitement pulsing through me.

  Chapter 2

  I turned the key and shut off my car. I fiddled with my key ring as I stared at the spotlight lit wooden sign and the building in front of me. On the outside, Joker’s looked like any old school tavern with its rural charm and cedar siding, but the crowd of bikes parked out front told a very different story. There had been speculation that the Wraith’s used Joker’s a cover business to launder their gun money and keep the cops off their backs. Then again, there was also the rumor that they had the police chief and a few high-ranking officers in their back pocket. I wasn’t sure which was true if either were, but it wasn’t my responsibility to care.

  It felt a bit dramatic to even think, but I had a mission to complete so I have to get over the nerves. I took a deep breath and stepped out of my Beetle. As soon as my black pumps hit the pavement the feeling of guilt started gnawing at me. I suddenly felt like I was doing something wrong, like I was cheating on Stephen, which was nuts; the restraining order I had out should be enough to tell me that. I supposed eight years of conditioning and abuse to my emotions was enough to render me unsure.

  I straightened up, faked confidence the best I could, and with Walker’s image in the forefront of my brain, I strutted my way up to the front door. With a steeling breath I entered and hoped this wouldn’t blow up in my face.

  Time seemed to slow as I took my first step inside. Three worn pool tables took up most of the space in the small, wood-paneled bar, and all three had a crowd of guys in denim and leather hanging around them. The smell of cigarette smoke lingered heavily in the air, while thick clouds of it hung around the hanging light fixtures.

  I glanced around the room, looking for a man that resembled Walker’s photo when an awful thought hit me: the guy could have used a dummy picture. There wasn’t a man that looked anything like the profile I engaged earlier that night. In fact, most of the men in the place were heavily bearded, gray, old enough to be my dad, and generally all had impressive beer guts. Oh no, what if I’ve been duped?

  I checked my watch again. At five to nine I was a little bit early, but no more than any other punctual person.

  I swallowed hard as I walked toward the heavy wood counter. One by one each pair of eyes in the bar noticed me as I crossed the scuffed pine floor. I tried to keep my posture straight and not show how intimidated I really was, but I
not only wanted to shrink away, I wanted to bolt like a scared bunny. The looks I was getting ran the gamut from curiosity to lecherous to downright hungry.

  Sliding onto a bar stool I scanned the selection of beers on tap. The bartender, a sour looking blonde with very enhanced breasts framed by a cut up Black Flag t-shirt, approached removing a drink stirrer from her mouth. “What can I get you, honey?” I was surprised, her face looked about thirty, but her voice was scratchy and sounded much older.

  I peeked behind her again at the taps. “Uh, Guinness please.”

  With a nod she popped her chewed up straw back in between her teeth and poured me my drink. I spied a nicotine patch on her shoulder, shining in the dim light next to a blown out lily tattoo.

  “I’ve never seen you in here before, sweetheart.” The bartender commented as she handed me my beer. She tossed a tattered Coors Light coaster down in front of me.

  “No. This is my first time coming in. I’m supposed to be meeting somebody.” I replied nervously.

  “Yeah, me!” a voice boomed from behind me.

  “No she’s not, Paul. She’s meeting me!” A tall, gangly man – he had to be about six feet - with a full sleeve of patriotic tattoos throws his arm around my shoulder.

  “Like hell she is, Vinnie. Back off she’s mine!” A short, pudgy man with a bald spot elbowed the skinny man away from me. I flashed the bartender a look of mortification. She chuckled and shrugged. I was on my own.

  “This has all been flattering, guys really. But I think I may be in the wrong place. If you’ll excuse me…” I threw a ten-dollar bill down on the bar and slid off the stool. What a stupid decision to meet some random guy, at a notorious biker bar no less. I was such a dummy!

  “Take it easy, fellas.” I looked up to find the owner of the voice and I was not disappointed. Standing a few paces in front of me was my sexy Come Play date. He was real and stood a head taller than Vinnie, who still seemed like he wanted to take me home to his mother, and my date could probably punt the hobbit that hit on me.

  “I’m sorry if these guys were bothering you. You must be Lyla. I’m Walker.” He gestured to the stool I had just abandoned. “Take a seat.”

 

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