NYC Vamps: Roman: Vampire Romance

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NYC Vamps: Roman: Vampire Romance Page 114

by Sky Winters


  That night, she and Zak slept with their limbs entangled in a sleeping bag. Their babies slept with Petunia and Greg under the stars. In his sleep, Zak reached out for Joy’s face, turning her towards him. She looked at him while he slept; her wild, strange lover and now the father of her children. She couldn’t imagine a more perfect being existing anywhere in the world. That night, Joy slept soundly and deeply knowing that she was loved and not wanting for anything other than the life she had.

  Summary: Joy wanted to believe her difficulties were behind her, but the day she saw her old high school boyfriend Zak pull up on a motorcycle she knew they had just begun. Back together after decades apart, the two pick up right where they left off as teenagers, but something is off about Zak. His motorcycle gang seems a little different, too, but she can’t be sure what exactly it is that sets them apart. Her father doesn’t know who she is half the time but, even when he isn’t sure if he’s talking to his daughter or his nurse, he always knows Zak is trouble. The rest of the town seems to agree with him and everyone she meets assures her she’s made the wrong choice. Joy tries to resist, but she’s drawn to his beautiful face and wild lifestyle over and over again.

  After a beautiful romance with Zak, Joy’s ex-husband Aris closes in to let Zak know that he doesn’t like seeing his wife in the arms of another man. The two have a stand-off that ends with Aris in the hospital and Zak vanishing. Joy sees a bear running off into the woods and her ex beaten and bloody. Sure that Zak has fallen victim to a bear attack as well, she falls into a deep depression and pines for the man she loves.

  Just as Zak returns, Joy’s body begins to change and she’s worried she may be pregnant with Zak’s baby. It’s time for him to tell her his secrets so that she can finally know; what is it that makes Zak so different?

  Biker Bear’s Baby

  “Dixie! Can we get another round down here, doll?” Harlan Simmons called out from the table where he sat with his fellow bikers.

  “Sure. On the way,” she called back, turning to grab a tray and start pouring their drinks. It was a typical Saturday night in As the Crow Flies, a dive bar she had just started working in for the summer. The Crow, as the locals called it, was usually full of bikers and truckers that called her pet names and touched her inappropriately. It wasn’t exactly her dream job, but it would net her some extra cash over the summer before she returned to college in the fall.

  “Thanks, cutie,” Harlan told her as she balanced her tray on the table and passed out the drinks.

  Her large breasts brushed the arm of one of the bikers sitting by Harlan and he smiled at her, but said nothing. She was used to it. Different men reacted differently to her due to her size. She wasn’t slender, athletic, like many of the girls that worked here. Unlike their more stickish figures, she had curves that flowed wickedly in a true hourglass fashion. She was more Anna Nicole Smith than Kate Moss, not everyone’s cup of tea. She could never be sure if the smiles like his were interest or a nonverbal declination. It didn’t really matter much either way to her.

  In her high school years, she had been sensitive about her size, but college had opened up a new world to her. College guys seemed to take much more interest in her than high school boys ever had. Of course, she had quickly learned that many of them were more interested in a physical relationship than anything more meaningful. It had led to a general disinterest in dating after a couple of years. Now, entering her junior year, she was fairly impervious to the advances of the opposite sex. Her disdain was only accented by Harlan’s usual slap on her backside as she walked away.

  “Harlan, cool it,” she heard one of the guys tell him. It was the same one she had inadvertently brushed against as she had served their drinks.

  “What? You can’t just ignore an ass like that, man,” Harlan replied with a laugh.

  “If she had wanted your hands on her ass, she would have asked you to put them there. Did she see her flirting with you? No. She is just doing her job and has to put up with jerks like you touching her. Keep your hands to yourself when you are out with me,” the other man growled at him.

  “Alright, man. Fine,” Harlan said sullenly.

  “Glad we got that straight,” the other man replied, taking a drink of his beer.

  Dixie pretended she hadn’t overheard, continuing her walk toward the bar as if nothing had happened. The next several rounds of beer served during her shift went by without further manhandling, at least not from that table. She was vaguely aware of the reputation of the men that sat there, members of a local motorcycle gang known as the Thunder Bears. She assumed it was a nod to the loud sound of their Harleys and the overabundance of bears in this neck of the woods.

  “Dixie?” a man said from behind her, disrupting her thoughts as she cleaned the bar back in preparation to leave for the night. She turned around to find herself looking at the man who had called Harlan out for touching her inappropriately.

  “What can I get for you? Another beer?” she asked.

  “No. I’m good. I just need to take care of our tab and we’re going to get going,” he replied.

  “Okay. Let me get that for you,” she replied, taking in his deep brown eyes and dark lashes for what was probably a few seconds too long.

  It had been hard to see him well in the dimly lit corner where he and his guys had been sitting, but standing here by the bar shed new light on him. He was tall and muscular, easily six four. She guessed he was in his late twenties, no more than seven or eight years older than her. His jet black hair hung in loose curls to his shoulders. A chiseled jawline set off high cheekbones and full lips. He was insanely attractive and rugged looking.

  “Thanks,” he replied, pulling some cash from his pocket and waiting for her to bring him a total. She could see his friends already filing out of the bar behind him.

  “Here you go,” she said, laying the check down in front of him and waiting while he shelled out several hundreds to cover their bar tab.

  “That should do it,” he told her with a smile.

  “I’ll get your change,” she replied, noting the large amount of overage.

  “No. The rest is yours,” he replied.

  “I appreciate it, but that is too much,” she replied, unsure of accepting an almost eighty dollar tip from the likes of him.

  “Consider it an apology for Harlan’s poor behavior, not just for tonight, but for whatever other nights he has been a jackass,” he told her.

  “That is not necessary. I’m used to it,” she replied.

  “You shouldn’t be. Just because you work in a bar doesn’t make you the property of a bunch of miscreants. If you have any trouble from anyone here, you just let me know. The name is Luke Roberts,” he said.

  Dixie knew the name. He wasn’t just a member of the Thunder Bears, he was the leader, and well known in the community as the best mechanic for miles. She had heard of him, but they had never met before now. If his reputation was true, he was a real badass. He might be pretty, but definitely someone she should steer clear of if even half of what she heard was true.

  “I really appreciate it, but still, it is too much. Let me get you some change,” she repeated.

  “How about you keep it and give me your number instead,” he replied.

  “I rather give you your change,” she replied with a polite smile, feeling uncomfortable with the way his eyes drew her in and made her want to do unmentionable things with him.

  “Playing hard to get. Okay. Just know that I don’t give up that easily,” he replied, walking out of the bar.

  “Wait. Your change . . . .” she called after him, but he only laughed and tossed up a hand in a backwards wave as he disappeared out the door. She heard the roar of motorcycles cranking up as she made change and tucked it in her tip stash. Finishing her work cleaning up the bar, she cashed out and left work, digging in her purse for her keys.

  “I knew you would come out eventually,” a voice said as she stepped out the front door and began walking toward
her car. She jumped, startled, as she found herself looking up at Luke Roberts towering over her. Looking around, she saw that the parking lot was empty except for the two of them. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she stood facing him in the near darkness outside the bar.

  “What do you want?” she asked, fiddling with the keys in her hand so that several of them protruded from between her fingers in case she needed to defend herself with what she had at hand.

  “You aren’t going to have to stab me with your car keys,” he laughed.

  “That’s what all the stalkers say,” she said, trying to make light of it, despite her continued nervousness.

  “Listen, we’re going for a ride down Bayou Bluffs tomorrow. How would you like to ride with me?” he asked.

  “Me? On a motorcycle? I don’t think so,” she replied.

  “Come on. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I really just don’t know you that well,” she replied.

  “Isn’t that the whole idea behind going out somewhere with someone? Getting to know them?” he asked.

  “I hardly think I’m going to be able to get to know you roaring down some winding highway on the back of your bike,” she replied.

  “Well, you’ve got me there. It is a bit difficult to carry on a conversation. I tell you what. How about I meet you at Mabel’s Diner for a nice breakfast for starters. We can talk a bit, get to know one another and then, if you feel comfortable with it, you can ride with me down to the bluffs. The boys are going to be grilling up some food and tossing back a few beers, maybe kick up a bonfire later. You’ll have fun,” he said.

  “Okay. I will agree to breakfast and we’ll see how that goes first,” she replied.

  “Good enough. You drive a hard bargain, Dixie Andrews,” he replied.

  “I don’t recall giving you my last name,” she quizzically said.

  “You didn’t have to,” he replied with a wink before slipping a black half helmet on his head. “I’ll see you in the morning, say about seven?”

  “I’ll see you at seven,” she replied.

  “You bet that sweet ass of yours you will,” he replied.

  Dixie watched as he cranked his bike and roared out of the parking lot. He was a striking figure, even more foreboding in the near darkness of the parking lot where the little lighting that existed cast his shadow across her shorter frame. She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to go to breakfast with him. He and his sort were the last thing she needed in her life. She was the only girl in her family to make it to college rather than getting knocked up by some local nobody and she wasn’t about to give it up for a small town mentality now.

  Heading home, she still found herself thinking about him. His good looks and chiseled physique were hard to resist. It wasn’t like she was a virgin, though she would be the first to admit her experience with men was limited. She was a smart girl who knew how to take care of herself. Why couldn’t she have a little fun with a local while she was home for the summer? No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than so did the answer. He was bad news and somehow, she knew that it would end with more chaos than fun.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” he said as she entered the diner the next morning.

  “Good morning,” she replied in a much cooler tone. “I’m sorry, but I just came by to tell you I couldn’t have breakfast with you. I would have called, but I didn’t have your number.”

  “So, you drove all the way across town from your mama’s house on Eldorado Parrish Lane to tell me you won’t eat with me?” he said with a half grin.

  “Pretty much. I didn’t want to be rude and just not show up,” she replied, not really surprised that a man with his contacts knew where she lived.

  “I believe they have a phone here at the diner,” he told her, an eyebrow raised in her direction.

  Dixie blushed a crimson red color. It seemed that the fact that she could have called the diner and had a message given to him rather than coming down here didn’t escape him at all. He might just be some sort of biker gang leader, but he was a smart one. She tried to think of a reason she chose to come down here instead of calling and finally stammered out an explanation.

  “I had to come into town to pick up something for my mother, so I thought I would just stop by,” she told him.

  “Your mother is in Mississippi with her sister. I believe she is attending an old friend’s funeral,” he said.

  “What? How do you know that?” she replied, looking at him with large eyes. Now, she was a bit surprised and a little frightened.

  “I know everything. Just like I know you are here because you want to eat breakfast with me. You are just scared that you might actually like someone like me,” he replied.

  “That is ridiculous,” she replied, trying unsuccessfully to will her feet to turn and walk out of here to prove her point.

  “Then why are you still here? Just have a seat and eat breakfast with me, Dixie. I won’t bite you . . . right now,” he said with a smile. His teeth were nearly perfect, not at all what you would expect from some big biker thug. Then again, when you really looked at him, he didn’t look much the part other than the jacket and riding boots. Put Luke Roberts in a suit and he could pass for any professional you could name.

  Dixie didn’t bother to argue. Instead, she sat down at his table and looked at him. The waitress came over and took her order before returning behind the counter to bark orders at a cook that looked like he had been out all night and rather be anywhere else but here cooking on a flat top diner grill. Luke never took his eyes off of her as she waited for her orange juice to arrive. She shifted in her seat a little, beginning to feel uncomfortable. The arrival of her drink was a welcome distraction.

  “So, Dixie Andrews, tell me what it is you are studying in college,” he asked.

  “Mechanical Design,” she replied.

  “Wow, very impressive. You are just the sort of girl I need to know,” he replied.

  “How’s that?” she asked, momentarily turning to thank the waitress as she brought their food. The way the young lady looked at Luke didn’t go unnoticed by her, but he seemed completely oblivious. No doubt he was used to women looking at him appreciatively. Dixie found herself wondering how many of them he had taken home with him.

  “Well, I own a mechanical shop here locally and I have a few idea that I’ve been toying with but some issues with working out the designs. It might be something you could help me out with, if you were so inclined,” he said.

  “Why would I do that?” she asked.

  “Because you find me interesting and want to spend more time with me in close quarters,” he responded bluntly.

  “Very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she said a bit sarcastically.

  “Usually, I am. You are a little hard on a man’s ego, though,” he replied.

  “I don’t mean to be,” she told him. “It isn’t about you. You seem like a pretty decent guy, really. I’m just not interested in getting into a relationship when I’m going to be returning to school in a couple of months.”

  “I guess I will just have to settle for a couple of months of mind blowing sex, then,” he told her, his eyes locked on hers. The intensity of them was almost too much. Not only did she find herself unable to look away, she felt herself becoming highly aroused merely by his presence.

  “How about we just stick with breakfast for now?” she replied, having a hard time breathing evenly while speaking.

  “That will be fine, at least until breakfast has ended,” he replied.

  Their conversation settled into the innovations he was trying to work out in his garage and her studies. Somehow, their two different worlds seemed to find a lot of common ground in that they knew the same people and places. They laughed about some of the local drama and recalled their childhoods growing up here in the bayou. By the time breakfast was over, Dixie found that she was drawn to him in a way that she couldn’t deny.

&
nbsp; “So, how about a ride down to Bayou Bluffs?” he asked as he took care of the check, still barely registering the rather attractive waitress that was ogling him.

  “You talked me into it,” she replied. “Just let me step out to my car a moment.”

  “Perfect. I’ll meet you out there in just a few minutes,” he told her. “I need to hit the head and make a couple of quick phone calls before we take off.”

  Dixie nodded and made her way to the car. Dropping her sandals in the trunk, she slipped on the socks and boots she kept there for hiking at the state park nearby before dropping her entire purse into the empty backpack that also resided there. She grabbed an elastic band from the front of the car and twisted her long hair into a low ponytail and dabbed on some lip balm to combat the wind that would hit her on the back of the bike.

  “You’re pretty prepared for a girl who had no intention of riding with me today,” Luke said with a smirk as he approached the back of her car.

  “Don’t flatter yourself Luke Roberts. I always have this stuff for when I decide to stop by the park and go for a hike,” she told him.

  “A likely story,” he teased. “The sooner you admit you want me, the sooner we can get to that whole unbridled passion I mentioned earlier.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?” she replied, blowing him off as she closed the trunk of her car. While she might have appeared calm and collected, her heart beat wildly and her nerves tingled along every extremity.

  “Get on,” he replied, straddling his bike and waiting for her to get on behind him. The way he said it was extremely suggestive, but she pretended she didn’t notice. Instead, putting on the helmet he held out toward her and waiting while he fastened the straps for her. Once she was helmeted up, she climbed on the bike behind him and sat with her hands resting on her legs.

  “Alright. I’m ready,” she said.

  “I know you don’t think you can ride like that,” he laughed, reaching back for her hands and wrapped them around his waist. “Hold on tight. I wouldn’t want you falling off.”

 

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