NYC Vamps: Vampire Romance

by Sky Winters

  Isabelle laughed, embarrassed to be called out like that. But it was true. She thought it was a strange app for people with weird fetishes, but she wasn’t going to tell Devon that. “Well, I didn’t want to be prejudiced. My friend signed me up for it, actually. She thought it would do me some good after my—” She broke herself off, not wanting to get into her divorce with her hot young date. “…I had been going through some crap lately, so she thought it would help lift my spirits, I guess.”

  Devon tilted his head at her a bit, wondering what she had been about to say but not wanting to push her since they were still strangers to each other. “Is it working?”

  Looking at him and feeling sort of shy, she nodded. “It is.”

  “Then let’s drink to that,” Devon said, raising his glass of dark beer. She raised her Bloody Mary. “To spirits being lifted.”

  They clinked their glasses together and drank.

  “So where is this cabin in the woods?” Isabelle asked him curiously.

  “It’s near Lake Gregory,” he replied. “I inherited it from my granddad and it’s a pretty good place to hide away, especially when I’ve shifted and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  Isabelle’s eyes widened. He really was a werewolf. It was starting to fully dawn on her. She thought that Ramona should have offered her more of an explanation besides werewolves being good in bed. Was she putting her life at risk by being with him?

  She was putting her life at risk by being with anyone, she thought. Still, this was a lot. Maybe she should have thought this through instead of driving out to see him so late at night. At least it was a Friday, but still…

  What would Patrick say?

  God, she scolded herself. You really need to stop worrying about what Patrick would think!

  Her ex-husband Patrick was not like this guy at all. He was normal and laid-back and, in the end, boring. He lost interest in her almost immediately after their wedding, but she had been stubborn enough to try and keep it going for years after that. She’d waited so long to find the right person.

  And here she was, again, doing the same thing. Except this time the supposed the right person had paws, and was too young for her.

  Isabelle drank a lot of her drink at once. Devon may have been trying to be good and not drink too much, but she felt like drowning her sorrows now. She felt like doing something crazy that Patrick would definitely disapprove of.

  Fuck Patrick.

  “So what brought you onto the ComeShift app?” she asked him, keeping her voice casual. “I would have thought that a cute guy like you wouldn’t need any help finding a girl.”

  Devon looked at her and his smile faltered for a moment. “Then you’d be wrong. I haven’t had a lot of good luck with women.”

  Isabelle felt mortified. She had said it so casually, thinking that it could be something they joked about, but he was actually sad about it. That’s why he suddenly had a change of expression for a moment. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I thought it would be a joke. I’m bad at this.”

  He took a sip of his beer and nodded a little. “Well, that we do have in common.”

  Even though he’d asked for the check, they ended up ordering more drinks. They carried on a fun conversation where he told her more about his friends in his motorcycle club, and she told him about working as a leasing consultant. She did not mention her E-X, but she could tell that it was bond to come up.

  “Speaking of you being the last of your friends to get hitched or get a long-term girlfriend,” Isabelle said, “I haven’t told you something that’s probably important… I’m recently divorced. I was married for many years.”

  She expected Devon to be shocked, to decide that he’d had enough time with her, to move away from her. Instead, he didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He practically seemed to have anticipated that she would say that.

  “Do you miss him?” he asked.

  Isabelle shook her head, realizing the truth as she said it. “Not at all.”

  He looked her in the eye. “Then what does it matter? I think it’s good that you’re trying to move on. I know that, if I’d broken up with you, I wouldn’t be able to leave the house let alone go out with someone new.”

  She blushed at stared at him, surprised and touched. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do,” Devon said. “I think you are pretty and sexy, and fun to be with. You actually care about my bikes and my stupid friends.”

  Isabelle laughed. “They’re not stupid.”

  “I guarantee you they are.”

  He and Isabelle smiled at each other.

  “Would you like to come back to my place?” he asked her. “I’ve had a few drinks, but I can get there. I don’t even have to think about it. My brain goes on autopilot.”

  For a minute, she thought that she’d better not. It wouldn’t be safe to go off with him since he’d been drinking. It wasn’t wise to go off with him anyway. He was still basically a stranger. And he was too good for her. Too young for her. Too…

  “Okay,” she said. “That sounds fun. Just promise that you’re not going to murder me in your cabin in the woods.”

  Devon chuckled darkly; flashing a mischievous look at her that made her wonder if that was what he had planned. Then his chuckle turned into a full-throated laugh and she realized she was being dumb again.

  “It’ll be fun,” he promised her. “You can swim in the lake, and I also have a jet-ski, though I think its engine is almost out of gas.”

  Isabelle nodded, smiling at him. “Great,” she said. “I didn’t bring any clothes with me, but…”

  Devon beamed back at her. “We can make do. Worst case scenario, there are some shops around that at least would sell some bathing suits and skirts for beachwear.”

  It seemed as though he’d thought of everything.

  Before long, he’d paid the check and they were on the back of his motorcycle. She held him tightly so she wouldn’t fall off. It had been a long time since she’d last been on a motorcycle. A cousin of hers had a husband who drove a motorcycle, but she hadn’t seen them since she was in high school. Which was quite a while ago.

  Isabelle continued to remind herself that there was nothing wrong with a thirty-six year old woman dating a twenty-eight year old man. The liquid encouragement had helped while they were in the bar, but now that they were speeding off to his cabin, the doubts were coming back.

  And she didn’t plan to drink all weekend.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Big Bad Six Six Six

  The cabin they arrived at was attractive and much bigger than Isabelle thought it would be. Devon parked his bike in the driveway and got off before carefully assisting her. Once she’d hopped down off the motorcycle, she placed her hands against his chest and looked up at him, into his steely gray eyes. She was feeling emotional all of a sudden. She wanted to blame it on the air from the lake, but she knew that wasn’t the actual cause.

  She was happy that he had taken an interest in her. She didn’t feel like she deserved it.

  Devon knew that. He was more aware of things than she knew. And he had big plans for making sure that she realized she deserved all of this before nightfall.

  Leaning down a little over her, he kissed her.

  When he pulled back to look at her again, Isabelle bit her bottom lip. “Pinch me?”

  He laughed and gave her arm a gentle pinch. “Come on,” he said, chuckling as he led her up to the cabin’s wooden front door. He unlocked it and held it open for her to enter first. She walked inside and looked around. It was lovely on the inside too, with fancy wood paneling. It had a large, open space for the living room and dining area, a kitchen and a bedroom with a bathroom close by.

  “This place is big enough for a family,” she said. Then she remembered what Devon had told her, about all of his friends going off and getting hitched. They hadn’t mentioned kids before, but she could tell by his sorrowful look and sigh that she had hit a nerve. “I’m sorry,” she said upon
realizing.

  Devon shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He gave her a smile and led her by the hand over to the couch.

  She sat on the couch and looked up at him as he shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing his muscled arms. He was wearing a slightly tight white t-shirt with the black letters W.W.A. on it, as if it was a stamp. Isabelle hadn’t noticed it before because it was dark in The Crazy Cactus and she’d been taken enough by his cute face that she didn’t worry about what he was wearing. She couldn’t decide whether she should go for him right then and there.

  However, Devon was not on the same wavelength. He moved towards her and his mouth was on hers, his tongue exploring her mouth. She allowed herself to relax and sink both into the kiss and into the couch. Before long, he had moved her so she was lying down on it and he was on top of her, making out with her and fumbling with the fly on her jeans.

  “Are you…” she gasped between kisses, reaching down and helping him pull off her pants. “Are you really a werewolf?”

  Breaking off his kissing, Devon suddenly smiled a sinister sort of smile at her. In a flash, she watched as his eyes changed from hazel to gold. He shifted into a gray and brown wolf before her eyes, the morphing causing his clothing to rip and stretch but not be fully destroyed.

  Isabelle was afraid to move as he panted and slobbered a bit, still leaning over her. “Do you still doubt me?”

  She shook her head. He had been handsome before, but something about this was making her wet for reasons she couldn’t even understand yet.

  He shifted back into his human form, and she was yanking off his pants and shirt in not time. Devon went down between her legs and ripped off her panties with his teeth. Then he went down on her, licking at her lower lips and flicking his long tongue against her clit.

  “Ohhh,” she moaned, writhing on the couch. “That’s nice. Good boy.” She licked her lips.

  Devon raised his head, smirking at her and showing off his fangs. He was being a good boy right now, but that did not mean it was going to last long.

  He continued to lap and suck at her until she arched her back off the couch and came, pulsating and squirting a teensy bit in the process. Devon loved it.

  Isabelle was mesmerized by him. His cock was hard and long, and it did not take him long before he mounted her and thrust it inside of her.

  “Ahhh!” she shouted, feeling both the pain and pleasure rushing through her. He’d been a gentleman, letting her come first, but now it was his turn and she knew all bets were off.

  He grabbed ahold of her sides, digging his nails into her skin as he pounded into her, staring into her eyes with his gray ones, though she noticed a shimmer of gold in them now, especially when he thrust deep inside of her, as though touching that far in brought the beast back.

  After a few moments of fucking her like that, he pulled out and spun her over so she was on her knees, holding onto the side of the couch with her hands. Devon inserted himself back into her, and the thrusting continued. He grabbed her boobs in his hands and squeezed them tight enough to leave a few marks later.

  Isabelle brought her head up, moaning and closing her eyes tightly.

  “Yeah,” he groaned, putting his head on her shoulder. “You like being my bitch, don’t you?”

  When she didn’t immediately reply, he slapped her ass. “YOU LIKE BEING MY BITCH?!” he howled at her.

  “Yes!” she shouted, feeling the next orgasm was imminent.

  Suddenly, the girth of his cock increased.

  “Oh fuck,” she said. “Oh fuck. Oh fuuuuuccckk!!”

  Devon grabbed her and held her to him, biting her neck as he came inside of her, riding the waves along with her. Once it was over, he pulled out of her, staying close and breathing heavily against the back of her neck.

  Isabelle looked at him with wide eyes. Her neck was bleeding and she was pretty sure she was going to have a limp for a few days, but that had been incredible.

  “I’m glad we’re staying at your cabin,” she told him. “We don’t belong in civilization.”

  Grinning at her, Devon kissed her hotly and then went away, into the kitchen.

  He came back with a bowl full of water and a wet washcloth. Carefully, he cleaned the wound on Isabelle’s neck. “I think I got a little carried away,” he said sheepishly. “I haven’t had sex in a really long time.”

  She smirked at him. “Thank you for doing that.” She thought of something. “I’m not going to…?”

  “Turn into a werewolf?” he asked.

  Isabelle nodded, feeling guilty for some reason. She wasn’t the one who had instigated that or had bit anyone.

  Devon chuckled and shook his head. “No. The moon has to be full and I have to not be controlling my instincts for that to happen. But, if you want to become a werewolf, let me know.” He winked at her.

  Once her neck was all cleaned up and she had a bandage on it to keep it that way, Devon went into the bedroom to put on something for sleeping. Isabelle stood up and followed him, feeling shy about walking around naked. “It has been a long time for me, too, by the way,” she confided. “My ex-husband wasn’t exactly interested after we were married. It was like the certificate ruined everything for him.” She frowned.

  “Hey,” Devon said, handing her one of his big t-shirts to sleep in. “No feeling sorry for yourself. It’s his loss.”

  Isabelle put the shirt on. It was a black Pink Floyd shirt. She could not imagine him wearing it and suspected that was why he was letting her sleep in it.

  His bed was big, with black and white sheets. It felt weird to be sleeping in a bed after they’d just had sex on the couch. “Won’t the couch get jealous?” she asked him.

  “Not after we do what I’m thinking we’ll do in the bed.”

  She grinned at him. “Oooh, when’s that planned?”

  He laughed and got into the bed, under the sheets. He patted next to him. “Get in. We shouldn’t worry about anything else until we’ve slept. I don’t know about you, but I’m dog tired.”

  Doing as she was told, Isabelle climbed into bed. They hadn’t brushed their teeth. She supposed that was one of the things they’d have to worry about in the morning. “Wolf tired,” she corrected.

  Devon scoffed and turned out the light. “Not everything needs to be a wolf pun.”

  The next morning, when Isabelle woke up, she saw that Devon was still sleeping peacefully beside her. She glanced at the nearby clock. It was ten thirty in the morning. She didn’t want to get out of bed, so she stayed there and watched her handsome date as he slept. When it became eleven o’clock, she moved closer to him and kissed him gently on the lips to rouse him.

  “Mm,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven,” she told him.

  Slowly, he opened his eyes and let out a yawn. “What do you want for breakfast?”

  She smiled at him. “Whatever you have in mind. I’m easy.”

  Devon looked at her and chuckled. “Mm, I know you are.”

  He got out of bed and stretched again before heading out to the kitchen in only his black boxers. She liked that he slept in only his underwear. It was sexy and no frills. Her ex had always slept in thick, plaid pajama bottoms, even when it was ninety degrees outside.

  When Isabelle joined him in the kitchen, he was already in the middle of making their breakfast. “Egg and salmon sandwiches,” he said proudly, proving to her that he was essentially making the first thing he’d found in his fridge. “You’re not vegan, are you?”

  Isabelle laughed and shook her head. “Even if I was, I’m not such a bitch that I wouldn’t eat what you’re making me.”

  “Ahh,” he said. “You’re just not a strict vegan.”

  “Shut up,” she said, giggling. “I’m not a vegan, all right?”

  They sat together in his kitchen and ate their non-vegan breakfast. “Wow, you really know what you’re doing,” she said, impressed. “It’s not every day that I come across a werewolf biker who can als
o cook.”

  Devon smiled at her. “It’s just a sandwich,” he said. “The things that I can make come down to three specific categories: sandwiches, pastas or pizzas.”

  “Have you ever made a pizza pasta sandwich?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”

  As soon as she had finished her breakfast, Isabelle went back into the bedroom to find something she could wear that wouldn’t be too loose or too silly looking. She didn’t have a lot of luck, but she ended up miraculously fitting into a pair of Devon’s black skinny jeans and wore one of his button-up shirts opened over a black t-shirt. She did a lot of tucking to make the shirts look like she’d meant to wear them.

  When she came back out of the room, he looked at her and did his best not to laugh. “You look really cute,” he told her sincerely. “If you want, I’ll take you shopping for some new clothes, too. It’s my fault, after all.”

  She smiled. “You’ll get very far if you keep that attitude.”

  Devon showered and changed into another outfit of jeans and a t-shirt, throwing on his leather jacket again. He whistled for her to follow him and they left the cabin to get back onto his Harley.

  He drove her into the small town nearby. Sure enough, he was right. The only clothes she could find were bathing suits, tourist t-shirts and sundresses for wear on beaches. She yelled at herself internally for not thinking ahead and packing some clothes just in case. After all, this had all been a one night stand situation from the beginning. She did not know that she’d be camping with him by a lake, but she’d known that she’d stay the night.

  “It’s okay,” Devon said, paying for her new bathing suit and sundress. “If I have my way, you won’t be wearing much of anything this weekend anyway.”

  She did not mind that, though it was really pretty by the lake. Isabelle had been looking forward to this spontaneous weekend vacation. She couldn’t exactly go out on the lake in nothing but her birthday suit.

  At least, not while the sun was up. In the evenings, all bets were off.