by Sky Winters
“You got it,” Ray replied. They took the packed boxes and carried them out of Vicky’s apartment.
She eyed him curiously. “La Grande Grotte?” she asked him.
“Yes,” Amos said. “It means—”
“I know what it means,” she said, laughing. “The Large Cave. But what is that?”
He waggled his dark eyebrows at her. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Right,” Vicky said. Now that the others were gone, it was just the two of them, alone in her semi-demolished apartment. “I’m going to take a shower. You coming?”
Amos grinned and started taking off his clothes at once. He practically chased her into the shower.
As she bent over to turn the water on, he pressed up against her and she let out a gasp as his grande cock entered her. Vicky held onto the wall as the warm water splashed against them and he thrust himself in and out of her. The water made her extra slick against him.
He grabbed the soap and lathered her up, making love to her from behind, and kissing her back and shoulders and face. “I love you,” he said.
When he pulled out, she turned to face him and he held her in his arms, inserting himself again. She bounced against him there. “Oh oh oh!!” she yelled. If they kept this up, they were going to do more damage to the apartment.
The warm water made it harder for him to hold off, and he came inside her within a few blissful moments. They finished cleaning each other and then stepped out of the shower, wrapping her pink and green towels around themselves.
With all of her stuff packed up in boxes that had been taken off to who knew where, Vicky did not have a reason to stay in her building. “I guess I need to end my lease, and my art classes,” she said sadly.
Amos shook his head. “Yeah, end your lease but don’t give up on your classes. I’ll pay for them if need be.”
“Can you pay for the rest of rent I’ll have to pay?” she asked, laughing slightly bitterly. “My class is at least mostly paid for with a scholarship.”
“I can do that, too,” he said, leaning towards her and kissing her chin. “C’mon now. Let me take you to your new home.”
They got back on his motorcycle and he drove them back in the direction of the bayou. They did not go to the same bayou however. When he’d finally parked the bike in a new bayou, Amos smiled at her. “Welcome to your new home. This is Bayou Segnette.”
Vicky looked around, smiling. “It’s about as hot as I suppose one might expect,” she said. He led her by the hand up to a large cabin. It appeared to be much more spacious than the other one. “Does this one have a shower?” she asked, squinting up at him as the sunlight blinked through the trees at them.
Amos chuckled. “Just go inside and see.”
They walked in together, hand-in-hand.
The cabin was definitely bigger. This one had an actual living room, a larger kitchen, a bedroom and – best of all! – a bathroom with a shower and tub!
“Now, it’s not exactly meant for a large family, but I figure it’s a start?” Amos said.
Vicky leapt into his arms, kissing him. “I love it!” she cried. “I love you!”
EPILOGUE
After everything that had happened to Vicky, she was not going to continue working at Zydeco. She hadn’t disliked the place, but it was not the safest place for her to be. Not only that, but the heat exhaustion and second-hand smoke were liable to kill both her and the baby if she stayed.
Instead, safe with her biker bear, she focused on her artwork and taking better care of herself. It turned out that Amos was a bouncer at one of the local dance clubs; he made enough money to support them until she became a successful famous artist.
Her pregnancy did not last as long as a normal pregnancy. That was because, as Amos explained to her, “Werebears do not live by human rules.”
Four months after they moved in together at La Grande Grotte, Vicky gave birth at home to a healthy baby boy. They named him Sylas. “Sylas Steele” just sounded like an awesome name to Vicky, and Amos was not going to argue with that.
The time spent away from Zydeco did wonders for her work. Vicky still went to classes every so often, but she was devoted to her baby and did not want to leave him at home. It didn’t seem to matter if she was still taking the class or not. She continued to improve and explore new techniques that she incorporated into her pieces.
One morning, Vicky sat outside on the cabin’s back deck right over the bayou. The baby was in a rocking cradle right beside her, staring up at her canvas as she attempted an oil painting. As she watched the familiar sunrise over the water, she did her best to let the colors of the water and the trees and the sky inspire her.
“Who is this?” she asked little Sylas, cooing down at the little boy as he looked up at her, smiling and eager to know what the hell was going on. She’d felt like that pretty recently. She had a lot in common with their baby already.
And he had a lot in common with his daddy.
“This is Daddy,” Vicky said excitedly, pointing her thumb towards her portrait of Bear Amos. He was done up in blues and yellows, but it was him all right. “This is your daddy.”
“Oh, that needs to go up on the wall,” Amos’s voice said behind her.
She turned and smiled at him. He came up to her and they kissed. Vicky brought her hands up to his face and accidentally got blue paint all over him.
Well, maybe it was an accident.
Maybe she was simply imprinting on him.
The End.
Vampire Romances
Vampire Duke
“Ahhhhhh!” Isabelle shouted as a violent spasm took over her body. Her eyes shot open, “Where am I?” Her question was directed at the treetops. Isabelle grabbed for her shawl, and wrapped herself tightly in the flimsy silk fabric. The thin cotton of her white chemise gown let the chilly morning air pass straight through. It was now morning, which was all she could tell from her current position lying on the forest floor. The sky had lightened. It felt like only moments ago Isabelle had been dancing at Colonel Raglan’s debutante ball.
The surroundings were familiar, but how she got there uncertain. Isabelle sat up and saw the path that led directly to the back gardens of her family’s estate. Isabelle fought her way to standing. Her muscles and bones had chilled in the night air. Isabelle was shaking and her limbs refused to work the way they should. She needed to find the will to walk home.
Looking down she saw a cloak on the ground. It did not belong to her. It was Kitty’s good riding cloak. As she wrapped the heavy wool around her shoulders, memories of the night before came flooding back.
“He has not arrived,” a disappointed Kitty Raglan, the colonel’s daughter, greeted Isabelle with a kiss on the cheek. The ruffled collar of Kitty’s pastel blue gown danced in the breeze created by the wearer’s quick movements. Kitty had been the first young woman in town to find out about Edmund’s return. It did not take long for the rest of the girls to find out. “Why did you not bring a coat?”
“You know how these parties bore me,” Isabelle said, “You are the dancer. I am much more at home in a library.” The girls laughed as Kitty guided her friend by the hand into the ballroom. “I am only here to see Edmund. I will leave le bon ton for you.”
“Hang their manners,” Kitty laughed, “Stay with me tonight and have fun.” The friends were opposites in almost every way. Isabelle often thought that was why they got along so well. The girls had taken a seat at a table close to the dance floor when a hush fell over the room.
Dark hair could be seen drifting over the sea of powdered wigs. Blue streaks coursed through the slick black hair. His pale skin almost shimmered in the light of the ballroom. Everything in the room had stopped as the Colonel led the guest of honor onto the floor. People immediately started to walk forward. Isabelle and Kitty found themselves fighting their way through the crowd. Edmund had been one of their best friends as a boy, but he no longer looked like a boy.
“
Ouch!” Isabelle turned on Kitty, who didn’t even notice that her friend was upset as she dug her nails into Isabelle’s arm.
“He is magnificent!” Kitty whispered, but very loudly. Isabelle had to admit that Kitty was right. Edmund had always been somewhat good looking. Now before their eyes he stood, a perfect specimen. He was tall, with broad shoulders. His piercing blue eyes seemed to look into your very soul. When they found Isabelle in the crowd she could feel the recognition light up in them. She knew that she was not going home early.
They had been the best of friends. Isabelle had always felt very close to Edmund. It had hurt her so much when he had left. On the night before he left she tried to persuade him to stay and he surprised her, “But you are why I have to go,” Edmund smiled. “I can never be good enough to marry you until I prove myself.” Isabelle was shocked by everything Edmund was saying. Isabelle had been promised to Victor Raglan, and Edmund knew that. It was also shocking, because Isabelle never thought of marriage. Not just with Edmund, but in general. Isabelle didn’t spend much time thinking of the subject even now that she was older. She did spend a lot of time thinking about Edmund.
“There you are!” Isabelle turned to see Nan running down the path toward her. “Why are you out here?” The matron looked positively stricken. Isabelle came back to reality and was freezing in the woods once again. She wanted to raise her arms and stop Nan from fussing at her, but it was of no use. Her body was too slow to fight off the grey-haired woman.
“I wanted to go for a walk,” Isabelle lied, although she wasn’t sure why. “I needed to clear my head after the ball, and I lost track of time.” Isabelle refused to look Nan in the eyes. The older woman knew Isabelle better than she knew herself. Nan’s kind, honey-brown eyes had a way of pulling the truth out of even the most resilient of souls.
As Nan helped Isabelle to her feet, the young woman could help, but think of Edmund again. The boy who had played soldier so many times in these very woods. Isabelle had watched her friend lead a hundred cavalry charges from that very spot. “Who escorted you home last night?” Isabelle told her matron that she didn’t know, but she did remember who had taken her arm and led her from the colonel’s house.
It was like being under a spell. He was talking of war, and yet, Isabelle could not turn away. She was not alone, Edmund had taken a hold of the room. Everyone wanted to hear more about his time in Crimea. “I heard you were injured at the Battle of Waterloo?” The colonel shouted over the excited chattering of his guests. Edmund gave the onlookers his patented shy smile.
“Yes, it all sounds very glorious,” Edmund seemed almost proud. “I was shot, but it mainly hit my uniform. Still hurt like the dickens.” The colonel nodded approvingly, as if he understood what war was all about. The rest of the admirers laughed along with Edmund. Isabelle could feel herself being drawn to her childhood friend. It seemed to her like the whole party was under the same spell.
“That must have been amazing,” Raglan was stroking his pointed beard. “Two lines, armed only with rifles against a cavalry charge, remarkable. I assume that is where you sustained your injury.”
Edmund laughed, “No the heavy horse never got near us, that would have made a much better story.” Colonel Raglan seemed disappointed Edmund had not found himself under the heel of a French war horse. “I was eating my breakfast when a mule reared up and kicked a barrel. A nervous young private, he was pale as a ghost, and he had already sweat through his uniform.” Edmund started to shake in imitation of the young private. “As soon as he heard the sound he dropped his old Brown Bess and the old girl let out a thunderous crack.” Raglan seemed very upset.
“What is happening in today’s army?” Raglan looked to the crowd for support. “I put it to you,” Raglan seemed to be addressing no one in particular. “The strength of the British Army comes down to the strength of its weakest soldiers.” Colonel Allister Raglan had never been to war, but he took a great deal of pride in his title. He had been in the Quartermaster Corp. overseeing the shipping and receiving of supplies for the army. He was a proud member of the army, but he knew nothing of the realities of war.
“I have a scar on my right thigh that agrees with you.” Edmund quipped. The mention of Edmund’s thigh was almost too much for Kitty to take. Isabelle had to pull her arm away for fear that her friend might break it. Isabelle gave Kitty a stern look. Kitty Raglan had never shown the proper propriety when it came to men.
“Ask him to see it,” Kitty whispered. The impetuous Miss Raglan loved to see Isabelle blush. Isabelle was always mindful of her behavior in public. Her father, Sir Thomas Bernard was a respected member of the Parish council, and a Baronet. Kitty’s father, the blustery Colonel Raglan, was the Parish council. As the richest man in town, he felt it was his right to push his agenda. Kitty took much the same approach to her social graces. As the girls giggled about the scar, Isabelle saw Edmund’s eyes find her in the crowd. She could feel the powerful gaze move right through her.
Then came a familiar tap against the floor. It was the silver handled walking stick Isabelle’s father carried. The handle was a very proud looking eagle perched on top of a globe. The Baronet had been wounded during Admiral Nelson’s Egyptian campaign. Isabelle tried to stifle her laughter as her father approached and she elbowed Kitty as well. Sir Thomas never yelled at his girls. In fact he rarely talked to them, but when he looked at Isabelle with disappointed eyes it hurt her to her very soul.
“Did you really meet Napoleon?” The silver-haired Sir Thomas had always been fascinated by the French dictator, after all he had lost the ability to walk properly fighting against him. In this instance though, Isabelle knew that her father was asking the question because he didn’t want people looking at his ill-behaved daughter. Kitty was always getting Isabelle into trouble.
“I was part of his escort to Saint Helene,” Edmund said, although he was not bragging, the crowd welcomed the comment great approval. Isabelle tried to maintain an air of indifference. She absolutely hated the fawning young women of Caddington. They were always tripping over themselves to catch the attention of this bachelor, or that soldier. Isabelle had once caught her younger sister Lysa and her best friend Alisa practicing their swooning. The older Miss Bernard had promised herself that she would never be one of those girls.
“Let me fix you a cup of tea,” Nan’s words brought Isabelle out of her stupor and back to the trail. Nan had been walking her closer to the house, but Isabelle had only realised now that she was even walking. She felt very lightheaded and weak. Leaning heavily on Nan, Isabelle made it all the way into the house.
“You’ve soiled your wrap,” Nan said as she took the garment from around Isabelle’s neck and went to fix the tea. Isabelle saw the spot that Nan had been pointing to. The young woman did not remember being cut. As she tried to remember how she had been left in the woods, Isabelle could feel a burning sensation on her neck. She raised one slender finger to the spot and she found a tiny mark, and one just below it.
Isabelle walked over to the large mirror that covered the North wall of the dining room. There were two puncture marks in her neck. Spaced a short distance a part, the marks appeared to be a bite of some kind. Isabelle was not sure why, but she immediately pulled the collar of Kitty’s cloak up. “Nan will just worry for no reason,” the young woman told herself. She took her curly blonde hair out of the once tight bun, it had suffered greatly through the night, as a secondary precaution in case Nan also took the cloak.
Isabelle had only had a sip of tea when Kitty was shown into the dining room by Athelstan, the Bernard family butler. “Miss Kitty Raglan,” Athelstan said with the outmost formality.
“I came to retrieve my cloak,” Kitty said trying to sound formal as Athelstan moved stiffly out of the room. When he was out of earshot Kitty charged at her friend, “Eeeeee!” Bursting with excitement, Kitty launched into a barrage of questions ending with, “Did he kiss you good night?”
“Well, where should I start?” I
sabelle asked knowing the answer.
“The kiss!” Kitty boomed, “Always the kiss.”
“No, we did not kiss,” Isabelle felt certain that she would remember that. “But yes, I think I will be seeing him again.”
“What did your father say?” Kitty said forgetting her other questions and moving on. The question reminded the young Miss Bernard that she had yet to see her father. He would most certainly have something to say if he knew that Isabelle had spent the night lying in the forest.
“When are you seeing him again?” Kitty was too excited to wait for answers. Isabelle’s arm, which Kitty was clutching tightly, was still aching from the night before. It seemed that Kitty could not handle the sight or even the subject of Edmund Bellemorale without bruising Isabelle’s forearm.
“I don’t kno…” Isabelle was interrupted by her father’s entrance of the dining room. The girls rose quickly to acknowledge his presence, but the Baronet Bernard barely noticed their presence. He walked straight through to the kitchen door and demanded his regular breakfast of bacon and duck eggs. Kitty who had been kneeling in front of Isabelle before the arrival of the Baronet took a seat beside her friend as Nan brought out the plates. They ate in silence.
Without looking up from his paper, and only after finishing his plate, Isabelle’s father calmly delivered some news. “Young Lieutenant Bellemorale will be joining us for dinner tonight.” Isabelle and Kitty exchanged excited glances. “His man dropped off a note, but I haven’t the foggiest where it could be.”
The girls shot out of their chairs again when the Baronet abruptly stood up and left the table. As soon as he cleared the doorway the girls spun and danced holding onto each other. Isabelle hated herself a little bit in that moment. She was not a swooning, marriage hungry girl, but she could not contain her excitement.
