NYC VAMPS (The Italians): Vampire Romance (Book Book 2)
Page 44
"I shouldn't," Tristen whispered. The tips of their noses brushed, providing a soft intimacy that warmed her heart and filled the hole that Derek's cold treatment had torn through her soul. His words told her one thing, but his actions told another. Tristen did want it, but he didn't want to admit it.
"The alpha female's word is absolute," Stella whispered back. With a slight turn of her head she let the tip of the nose trail down the length of his, allowing their lips to brush. Where Derek had smelled of smoke and tobacco, Tristen smelled of the woods and days spent beneath the sun. And he was gorgeous. "And I've changed my mind. You're the one I want to care for me."
There were no more words. Their lips met, soft and hesitant at first, but then harder and needier. Stella's hand rose to the back of Tristen's neck to run up and tangle in his blonde hair as the passion mounted between them. One of his palms, once flat against the bed, rose to cup and caress her breast. Touching her was something Derek had never thought to do — he had been selfish in his desires.
As they kissed, Tristen pulled the sheets back to expose the length of her body. The hand at her breast dipped down to run along the slender curve between her side and her hip, and traced over the small, soft curve of her stomach. His touch brought her alive as Will's touch always had, almost like magic. Stella could not resist a tiny moan.
"Do you know," Tristen murmured as their lips parted, "about the bond shared between true mates?"
Stella's mind felt clouded by fog. Tristen's touch left her wanting more, but also had her feeling wonderful. The way he touched her made her feel appreciated and cared for, and after the impersonal treatment Derek had given her the night before, it was a welcome relief.
"No," she whispered, then caught his lips for another quick kiss. Will hadn't told her anything of werewolves, and what Derek had told her was the bare bones, barely enough for her to wet her toes in the knowledge of the supernatural. There was more to learn, and Stella felt like she'd be learning for a long time to come.
"True mates," Tristen whispered, "happen to meet each other rarely, but when they touch, they know right away. Just a finger traced across the skin feels electric."
To punctuate his sentence, Tristen ghosted his index finger across her naked thigh. The touch rode up like sparks across her skin and made her heart flutter with desire. Not since Will had she felt this way. Will had made her heart shudder with delight until the very end, and his touch had lit her soul on fire every time. True mates, a voice in the back of her mind whispered to her, speaking the truth. Will had been her true mate. But now Tristen's touch elicited the same sensations, and Stella felt her cheeks grow pink with flushed arousal.
"And has anyone ever had two true mates before?" Stella murmured, butterflies rising from her stomach to lift her words and spirits.
"The soul can love more than once," Tristen confirmed. "No one's love will be the same, but the feelings are just as valid. I know that you loved Will, but from the moment I saw you on Derek's bike, I thought there was something special about you, but I got too tongue tied to say anything, and Derek wasn't helping things."
The confession was mild and gradual, but it felt right. Stella found herself smiling.
"This is all really sudden." Her hand trailed down the back of his neck at to his shoulder, the same delightful sensation rising from her digit and up her arm. How wonderful it was to feel like this again. "But I feel it, too. After what happened with Derek, I knew I'd made a mistake. And I promise that I'm going to fix it. I'm not letting myself down again, not after how I've let myself down this past year."
Tristen's smile was worth whatever suffering or struggle she'd have to go through to set things right. If she really was the alpha female, Stella knew she had power. Just how much power she had was to be determined in the hours to follow, but for right now, what she wanted was to solidify her bond with Tristen.
"I trust you," he told her, "just as Will trusted you. He wouldn't have picked you if you didn't have a good head on your shoulders. I know we'll make it out okay."
And with his assurance, Tristen brought their lips together once more. Even after the brief amount of time they'd spent talking, Stella found she missed his touch. Now they would not split again.
Piece by piece, Tristen's clothes met the floor. His chest was smooth and flat, but not as firm or muscular as Derek's. His body lean and agile, but not built for absolute power. And when his pants and boxers descended, and she was treated to a view of what lay beneath...
Some things ran in the family.
Tristen was thick, and the slit of his cock dripped just as Derek's had. Sex between them would be messy, and she knew he'd leave her dripping with his secretions once she'd driven him to orgasm. And this morning, she was going to treat his body to pleasures untold. Sex with the chemistry they had was going to be fantastic, and Stella anticipated a future filled with it.
Union between them was effortless. Already her body had begun to respond to his, anticipating his every move. Amongst long limbs and soft caresses, Tristen found his way between her legs. And then, Tristen was inside of her.
After sex with Derek the night before, Stella was sore, but stretched. Tristen fit tight, but he did not wreck her as Derek had. Instead, there was a tender quality to the joining of their bodies that she couldn't get enough of. Tristen ravaged her, and yet she felt as though he did not take her for granted. A deeper connection ran between them than an exchange of power and fluids.
What started as slow and passionate evolved into something faster and closer to animalistic. The wolf began to stir inside of him, and a possessive growl rumbled in his throat and rattled her lips as they kissed. In and out, over and over, he worked himself inside of her, and when orgasm hit, it hit hard. Stella cried out into the empty house as she clenched down around him, and as she dove into the pleasure he had shared with her, he found his release as well. Hot cum, intimate instead of taboo, filled her and marked her with his scent.
Mates.
But this time, Stella did not regret her choice.
There was still a lot of strife to face that she'd brought onto herself, but all was not lost yet. And as Tristen settled at her side and showered her with soft kisses and gentle affections during the afterglow of their sex, she knew she had not chosen poorly this time around. What she'd found was worth fighting for. Stella would set her life right — she owed it to herself, and she owed it to him.
Chapter Six
The howl of the wind deafened Stella and sent her hair whipping back as they sped from the pack's farmland hideaway and towards the city. Tristen's lithe body sat in front of her, and she gripped him from behind so as not to fall off. His bike was identical to Derek's, but already Stella felt different. Raw excitement and the thrill of the unknown had faded, and now Stella felt secure and appreciated. The affection Tristen had shown her trumped Derek's wild streak, and she knew she'd made the right choice for her. The right choice for all of them.
Tristen rode just as aggressively as Derek did, but he did it with an ease that made the ride seem safe. The bike cut through the streets and wove around cars and other obstacles like water around pebbles down a stream.
Finally, Tristen skidded to a stop in front of an old apartment building. A crumbling facade and old window frames betrayed its age, and Stella thought that it seemed familiar. Then again, she'd been all over the city with Will. Before it had seemed like innocent wanderlust, but now she knew the true reason for his interest in every nook and cranny — it was his territory, and he was keeping it safe.
Stella's hand slipped into Tristen's, and he led her up the old staircase inside the lobby and to the fourth floor. Three sharp knocks on the door saw it opened by a young man with brown hair and a long nose, who looked over them both with a somber expression. Scent spoke for them, she guessed. There was no hiding a bond from wolves.
The walls of the apartment had been knocked down to create one large, open space joined through a large archway with the next unit,
which was similarly opened. A den. And the men who visited there treated it as a home away from home.
And there, amongst a cluster of couches and chairs, most torn to shreds, sat Derek. When he lifted his eyes to look at them as they entered, Stella thought he might bare his teeth and attack. Had Tristen entered on his own, she was sure he would have. Her presence kept him in check.
"What the fuck is happening," Derek hissed from where he sat. His arms were draped over the back of the couch, legs spread. The man oozed authority and power, and Stella would have trembled had she not already faced death down just the day before. It was time to stop being afraid. Now she shared Tristen's heart after such a long time mourning Will's loss, and she was ready to move on and be happy.
"The word of the alpha female is law," Stella declared, clutching Tristen's hand that much harder, "and I've made a decision. Tristen and I share a bond, and I will be his mate."
Derek's body tensed, and he rose up from the couch in one smooth motion. Angry, he looked much bigger than he already was, but Stella would not back down.
"But as the alpha female," she continued, "as Will's chosen mate, I know what's best for the pack. You will continue to lead us. You will rule. But my happiness is with Tristen, and you — and all of the pack — are going to have to accept that."
Derek's lips tightened, but he did not continue his approach. Instead, he dug his hands into his pockets.
"And if I take a mate?" he asked.
"Then she will serve as alpha female in my place," Stella declared. "As the present alpha female of the pack, that's what I want. The position means nothing to me. I don't want power, or fame, or influence... All I want is to be happy at last. And I've found that now."
Tristen's hand tightened around hers, and he leaned against her to press a kiss to her neck. The affection made her shiver, and a smile spread her lips. Happiness. At last. Tristen had begun to change her for the better, and from here on out, things were only going to get better.
Derek approached, but it was not with anger. He stood uncomfortably close to her, eyes narrowed and near dangerous. When he moved again, Stella anticipated he would strike her, but the older of the two brothers simply bent down to scent the opposite side of her neck from Tristen. When he drew away, he caught her eyes and did not betray his emotion.
"And what about the child I planted inside of you?" he asked. "I can smell the pregnancy on you. You were fertile when I had you last night."
The news was jarring, and Stella knew her mouth had fallen agape. Pregnancy? Already? There was a small chance that the child could be Tristen's, but...
"It doesn't matter," Tristen said from her side. He'd yet to let go of her hand. "Yours or mine, blood is blood, and Stella is mine. I will care for the child even if it is not my own."
A child. Pregnancy. A family. The news was so sudden. After a year of living in isolation, it didn't seem possible. Over the course of a single day, everything about her had changed. Both brothers had made sure her life would never be the same.
"As long as this is my pack," Derek said, "then you can do whatever the fuck you want, as long as it's respectful. I'm going to allow this to happen. I was never big on commitment, anyway. You start your happy little family, and I'll lead my pack. Sounds like a fair tradeoff to me."
Hasty decisions and a bleeding heart had almost led her to ruin, but perseverance had served her well. There was no doubt Will had been a great love of her life, but he would not be the last. Tristen was there for her now, and by his side Stella knew she would be treated well.
And now with a baby on the way, and a pack to serve as family, there would be no reason she would ever find herself on her own again.
After a cold, bleak winter came the first beautiful buds of spring. The buds of her life were sprouting now, and Stella knew it wouldn't be long before her it would be in full bloom. *****
THE END
WOLF TWINS
CHAPTER ONE
Betraya
Jolene let out a loud gasp when she opened the door and saw them there. “Bastard!” she shouted. She had come home early from work to discover that Kenny, her husband of three years, was in fact not at work like she had thought.
Well, he was at work in one way.
“Babydoll?” he asked, moving quickly off of the mystery woman he had in their bed.
Kenny’s semi-erect penis was not doing him any favors right now. Jolene looked at him, horrified. “Get the fuck out of my house!” she bellowed at him. In actuality, the house belonged to both of them, but she was too angry to see that at the moment.
The strange woman got out of the bed, covering herself in her dress and scooping up her panties and bra. She left the room, scampered down the stairs, and went out the front door without a word. Jolene got the feeling this had been going on for a while and her finding them had been inevitable.
She shot her head back around to glare at Kenny as soon as the tart was gone. “You gonna get packing or should I?”
“Babydoll, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Kenny said. He, unlike the bimbo, did not bother to put his clothes back on. He tried to wrap his arms around Jolene, but she pulled away and punched him in the shoulder roughly.
“Get away from me!” she cried. “And don’t call me ‘babydoll.’”
She went to the chest of drawers and started pulling out her clothing in large mounds, stuffing them into a suitcase she found in the closet. “You were supposed to be dependable, Kenneth,” she said. “I liked you because you had a career and a routine. You were practically boring, and I liked that. I didn’t want an asshole cheater like in high school. I guess I just attract asshole cheaters.”
Kenny looked at her woefully as she spoke, but then he turned vicious in his own defense. “Well, maybe I was tired of boring routines. Maybe I wanted someone who came when I called her and drove me crazy.”
Jolene moved back to the doorway. “Whatever. I’m tired of this shit.” She hit him forcefully with the suitcase as she passed him, knocking him to the floor. She smirked a little at that. It was a small victory, but she would take it.
She left the house, tossing her suitcase into the backseat of her green Volkswagen Beetle. Jolene was in marketing and advertising, and did most of her work from home; that was the irony of this situation. Kenny probably jumped at the chance to be unfaithful the first time Jolene went to the office.
Jolene McNulty was about as Irish as they come, though there certainly was no shortage of Irish people in Boston. She was pale and freckled, and taller than average. Curvaceous and attractive, she was no simpering thing, hence the bumps and bruises she had given Kenneth upon leaving their abode. Her hair was long and auburn, and her eyes were emerald green. At twenty-nine years old, she was still quite a looker, but she had not imagined she would be single again at this age.
“That son of a bitch,” she growled under her breath, driving along but not really knowing where she should go. Part of her wanted to stick around in Boston. After all, that was where her office was. But the other parts of her knew that there was no way she wanted to stay anywhere near her soon-to-be-ex.
Her mind made up, she went to a local courthouse and filed for divorce. Jolene signed the required documents, and then sent them on their way to be signed by Kenny. It surprised her how easy it was. It surprised her how much it hurt.
When she got back into her car, she hit the road for Vermont. She had never been there before, but she’d heard a lot of good things about the place. It was autumn and she knew that winter would not be a dainty affair there, but it wasn’t exactly laid back in Boston either. At least her wardrobe would be appropriate. If she was moving to Maui, she would be screwed.
Best of all, Vermont offered Jolene a quiet life. She would be able to sit back and enjoy nature as she wrote on her laptop instead of having to endure the loud Boston arguments and raucous night life. Vermont would be all porch swings and pleasantries.
As soon as she drove into Burlington, she re
nted a small cottage on the outskirts of town. The owner was a small, shriveled man who likely would not need living arrangements for much longer. The cottage was blessedly furnished. Jolene came inside, dropped her suitcase on the floor near the door, and collapsed onto the couch. She took off the messenger bag that was on her shoulders at almost all times, and set it down on the coffee table in front of her.
Her laptop was in that bag. She imagined she would be using that laptop a lot more now. Apart from doing her work, she was going to need to do some research into this new place. She pulled it out and plugged it into the wall, knowing that she was going to need to go shopping for power strips, along with food, fairly soon.
Upon turning on her computer, Jolene realized that she wasn’t getting a charge. She tried the other outlet. No dice. She unplugged and strolled out to the kitchen. The light did not turn on and the outlets were unresponsive there as well.
“Well, great,” she grumbled. “Could’ve put that in the ad.”
Jolene turned her computer off so the battery would not die and pulled out her phone, calling the first electrical company listed. The company was managed by a guy named Luke Weir. She really hoped that he knew what the hell he was doing, because she was getting sick of everyone letting her down.
“I’ll be right there,” the guy said when she called. He didn’t ask her a lot of questions, which Jolene actually appreciated seeing as she would have had very few answers for him.
The guy that appeared at her doorstep was not at all what Jolene was expecting from an electrical repairman. First of all, he arrived on a motorcycle. No dorky truck with a logo on it for this guy. Second of all, he was not a fat slob with a beer gut and pants that hung low. He was wearing nice, form-fitting blue jeans and a tight, ab-showing t-shirt with the company’s logo on it. Alternating Current Electrics. He was handsome and possibly even a little nerdy without making it show.
He looked up from his clipboard when she opened the door, the utility belt hanging around his waist full of tools that Jolene did not even bother herself with wondering about. She was too hung up on his hazel eyes. They were mostly green with one thin ring of gold-amber around his pupils. He had big dimples—one on each cheek—that caught her attention next, and dark wavy hair that was practically black if not actually fully black.