Full Moon Dating Isaiah and Jameson

by Julia Talbot

  Isaiah and Jameson

  A Full Moon Dating Story

  Julia Talbot

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

  Full Moon Dating: Isaiah and Jameson

  Copyright © 2019 by Julia Talbot

  1380 Rio Rancho Blvd #1319

  Rio Rancho, NM 87124

  Cover illustration by Erin Dameron-Hill

  Published with permission

  ISBN: 978-1-942831-85-3

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  First electronic edition published May 2019

  Printed in the USA

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Julia Talbot

  Prologue

  “Let me tell you about Isaiah and Jameson.” Harve chortled when he said it, and Stone blinked at his lover, amazed at how sure Harve seemed already.

  “Wow, that was fast.” Usually Adelia and Stone got a bit of a say in the couples matched at Full Moon Dating, since Stone was the boss. Adelia was awful bossy, too, for the admin part of the team. She had opinions.

  “Ades and I were bored,” Harve said. Ah, so Adelia had been in on it. Man, those two. Harve called up a wee tablet, opening a file with just a few touches of his clever fingers. “I mean, Adelia almost matched Isaiah with a dentist from Colorado Springs, but then I snooped through the company emails and realized I know this guy.” Harve handed him the tablet. “Why he didn’t just pick up the phone…”

  Stone blinked some more. “Holy shitballs. The head of the vampire band in Santa Fe?”

  “Well, pretty much New Mexico. I mean, there’s like two million people in the whole state.” Harve’s gray eyes flashed with humor, but that made sense. Not as much food, not as many vampires.

  “How do you know him?” Stone shook his head. Harve never ceased to amaze him, and his connections were wide and varied.

  “He did me a favor once, when I was traveling through. I misunderstood some local religious rituals.”

  “Hmmm. I was afraid you were going to tell me you were his guardian before he died.” Stone was fascinated by Harve’s mostly undisclosed past.

  “No. No, although that would have amused me. Isaiah was born, not made, and he’s unfortunately become the head of the clan. He’s miserably unhappy, poor baby.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Read the file, lazy. He’s not suited to it at all.”

  Stone read, his eyes widening. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “Nope. Trust me, Jameson is the man for the job.”

  “And you trust him?” Stone gave Harve a hard look, which was patently false because he was stupid for the guy, but still…

  “I do.”

  Harve didn’t get it. This was a disaster looking for a place to land. “Why?”

  “Because I was Jameson’s guardian before he died.” Harve’s grin was as wicked as it could be.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Stone threw up his hands. “Set it up, but I bet a weekend of blow jobs it goes sour.”

  “Absolutely.” The total certainty in the word led him to believe that his jaw was going to be sore sometime soon. Harve rarely took a bet unless he thought he would win, so Stone would be on his knees, he would bet.

  And wasn’t that a lovely idea?

  1

  “It doesn’t look good, Isaiah. You have to choose someone.” Aunt Bedelia was getting her banshee on, wasn’t she? “You’re the head of the family. Of the whole band. You cannot be solitary. There’s already talk of you being weak.”

  The temptation to squawk about being gay was huge, but the simple fact was that wasn’t an issue. One of his brothers and two of his sisters had been queer. He was never—NEVER—supposed to rule. He was the seventh son, the baby. The worthless one who would have gone to the sun back in the Dark Ages.

  But one plane crash in the Rockies had taken Mother and Father, along with his sisters and two of his brothers. His other two brothers had been shattered, had literally walked out into samesaid New Mexico sun with a group of their clan and it was all over.

  Now he was the last one, with a handful of frightened, angry older family that needed him to make everything better.

  Fuck his life.

  He forced himself to snarl, to stand over Bedelia and stare her down. “Let me remind you who survived. I will not stand anyone questioning my place.”

  Because goddess knew he didn’t know what to do if he was overthrown and tossed out. He’d never even bitten a real human. Live feeding was a completely foreign idea.

  She lowered her gaze, her long neck bending gracefully. “Of course. But—”

  “No.” Isaiah had this handled. His… new companion would arrive tomorrow and the family would be pleased with his supposed choice. “No more.”

  He’d made an arrangement with his good friend, Harve the Angel, and someone was coming who could be exactly what he needed.

  A beard.

  He grinned. That was so the perfect answer. An actor. Someone who would be on his payroll. No one needed to know that he wasn’t a typical dominant asshole vampire clan leader.

  So long as the beard was kind and willing to put on a show, they should get along like a house afire.

  “Are you ready for the board meeting, then?” she asked.

  “Auntie, I have this.” And what he didn’t have, his dearest friend Jo did. She lived for business. She would whip the board into any shape he wished to see them in. Maybe a dove. Or a shark.

  “All right then.” Her lips quivered before stilling. “I only want to help.”

  “I know.” He did, because he was her last chance to stay in with the ruling clan. If he failed, she would fall from grace completely.

  “Thank you for listening.” She turned to glide into the boardroom.

  “Okay,” he muttered. “Let’s get this done.”

  His new paramour would be here soon and things would improve. They had to.

  They could hardly get any worse.

  2

  “Okay, so is there anything else I need to know last minute?” The drive up from Albuquerque to Santa Fe started out sort of flat gray, but as he moved up in elevation, red crept in even at night, the Sangre de Cristos rising with the snow a stark white up there.

  Lovely. Jameson approved.

  Harve chuckled over the words. “Isn’t that enough for now?”

  “Does he know?”

  “He knows you’re coming.” Oh little shit. Harve was always so cagey. That had not been what he was asking at all.

  “And?” Jameson drawled out.

  “He sort of thinks you’re a little baby sub coming to be his beard?”

  “What?” Oh, that was fucking hilarious. “Good thing I like acting out.”

  The last thing Jameson was at all was a baby sub. His cheeks hurt, his grin stretched them so wide. “What is he? Why does he need a beard?”

  It would be easy as pie to pretend to desire the man—this Garces guy was hot as a two-dollar pistol, pale as
milk with a shock of copper hair and eyes an icy blue. Gorgeous, old world, very traditional vamp.

  “Well, you know he’s a vampire clan head.”

  “Right. The dossier said everyone else died and left him the only heir.”

  “Right. Thing is, he’s no dominant. At all. Now, that’s not common knowledge which is why it’s not in the dossier, just in case. His whole family is pushing him to take a consort.” Harve snorted, then sighed. “He’s smart, clever, well-read, and about as submissive sexually as they come. Your kind are as bad as wolves.”

  “What?” Jameson put a ton of exaggeration in his tone.

  “As far as hierarchy, I mean. He’s scared of losing his clan to an outsider.”

  “Ah. Well, from what I hear that would put him in the doghouse. Make him and what’s left of his family the lowest of low.” How would he know for sure? He was a made vampire. Alone all his life and his only knowledge of vamp politics was hearsay.

  “I’ve known him for years. He lost everyone—he was the seventh son. No one expected him to rule anything.” Harve sighed. “Bless his heart, he even filled out the application without calling me so he could go through channels.”

  “Well, the low expectations he and I have in common.” Jameson chortled. “Okay, so. Let me see if I have this right. I go. I get… what? Paid to be his beard? Do I get to pretend I think I’m really there to date him, or does he think I know all this?”

  “That’s up to you. I promised to deliver someone to fulfill his needs, that’s all. You know with me that can have a lot of levels.”

  “Oh, how amusing!” Oh, God, this could be the most fun ever. Ever.

  “I thought you’d enjoy yourself. It’s right up your alley.”

  “It is. You’re so good to me. How’s your, um, boss?” He knew Harve had finally hooked up with his employer, Stone.

  “Delicious.”

  Oh, naughty angel! “Sounds like we’ll both be having a good time.”

  “That’s my hope, dear friend.”

  Jameson slid off the highway and cruised into town, the magic of the place thrumming through his skull and in his veins. “I think it’s inevitable. Thank you, Harve. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “I can’t wait. Have fun!” Laughter followed him until the line went dead.

  He tossed his phone into the passenger seat after hitting the off button. What a fascinating situation. Now, how was he going to go about this?

  Just seeing the picture of Isaiah made him growl, made him ache in the base of his spine. What he could do to that lovely, oddly icy looking man. He would tear that up, teach Isaiah to love being spanked and bitten.

  He’d trained subs for decades, and this one needed attention, surely. Jameson would be happy to provide it.

  He grinned, his fangs pricking his lower lip as he reached the Cerrillos Road turn off. He would be there well before dawn. Plenty of time to annoy his new “boss”.

  Soon the city was past him and he had arrived at a huge compound at the foot of the Sangre de Cristos. Lovely and strong—the place screamed of age and power. It hummed like some of the land around Sedona or Taos, but the buzz at the base of his neck was pleasant not annoying.

  Possibly arousing, even, running up and down his backbone like someone had pressed a vibrator there.

  Hmm. Interesting.

  He pulled through the gates, which had opened magically, it seemed, and headed up the long drive to the house. No one had sent him information on where to park, or if he was supposed to call first, so he would just brazen it out.

  Of course, Harve had probably called and the boss guy would want to look like he was the one in control. Smoke and mirrors. Vampire bands were big on that shit.

  Oh, look, dogs. Big ones. Some sort of mastiffs, he thought. Mastins, maybe. Spanish style. How cute. He rolled down the window as they rushed the car, speaking softly to them. He’d always been a dog lover, and he had an affinity for them, communicating well with them.

  They were unhappy, worried, and more than willing to come to him, sit and moan about how everything was off.

  “Hey, guys. It will be okay. I promise. We got this.” He opened the door, holding out his hands.

  “They bite. Be careful.” The voice was soft, gentle, husky.

  “Oh, they won’t bite me. Not unless I ask them to.” He didn’t look up, but he was scenting the air, smelling spice and musk. Yum. “Yours?”

  “My father’s. I inherited the pack.”

  “They’re good dogs. They miss your father.” He stroked the high, intelligent ears. “I’m Jameson. Harve called you about me?”

  “They’re amazing, and of course they do.” Isaiah cleared his throat. “Harve did call. Come inside. It’s chilly.”

  “Thanks.” He climbed out of the SUV, surprised at the coldness in the air. “Oh, more freezy up here.”

  “It is. Do you have baggage?”

  “Just my one suitcase for now. I can get it.”

  “Of course.” Isaiah waited patiently for him to pull out his roller bag and gesture for Isaiah to lead the way.

  “Welcome to the Hacienda de Sangre. Diego, please get our guest a glass of wine.”

  A huge, bald man stood in the shadows, moving silently at the request to procure him a drink.

  “Thank you. No one else about?” He hoped he wouldn’t have to meet a whole troop of vampires tonight.

  “No. They all have homes on the compound, but everyone else who lived in this one is gone.” There was just… nothing. No emotion there. Jameson thought someone was very brittle right now. “Diego is loyal to the death, bound to my family. To me. I’m lucky to have him.”

  “Good deal.” Jameson smiled at the big guy when he returned with a glass of the good stuff. Blood with a little wine mixed in. Nice. And warm too.

  “Please come in to the fire. Diego, please take Senor McMann’s luggage to the red room.”

  Diego nodded, then hoisted his case, gliding out of the room without so much as a grunt.

  Jameson moved to stand before the fire, which warmed his cold skin nicely. Then he studied Isaiah. Everything about the man screamed refinement, intelligence, and class, but beneath that was need. The coppery hair was brighter in real life, the blue eyes light and focused.

  Someone was… he sniffed. Desperate for companionship. Sad. Lonely. And oh so starved for touch.

  Jameson sipped his wine. “So, Harve told me the situation about your family, but why don’t you explain what you want from me, Isaiah? I like to hear it in your words.”

  “Harve says you’re trustworthy. I wish someone to be my companion. Just someone to appear at functions, at family events, dances. In exchange, you’ll have the run of the house, barring my quarters, and you’ll be well cared for.”

  “Well cared for?” He raised an eyebrow, letting his mouth curve into a smile. “I like that. That sounds a lovely situation, in fact.” Not that he had any intention of being barred from Isaiah’s quarters, but being a kept man had a nice cachet to it.

  The relief was visible, Isaiah’s shoulders coming down from his ears. “Excellent. Harve assured me you were the man I needed. I tend to trust him, but I can be… stubborn.”

  “I believe I am what you require.” He glanced around at the Colonial Spanish style room, with its terracotta tiles and whitewashed walls. The style was pueblo revival in windows and doors, though: tiny slit windows with the shutters closed and low doorframes. Lovely.

  He’d done his research on Santa Fe, after all. Jameson liked to know what he was getting into.

  “We’ve been here for generations. The house is absolutely comfortable and safe. You’ll find your room has a television and the library is extensive. I doubt you’ll be bored.”

  “I love libraries! Do you have a study, as well?” His imagination ran wild. Leather furniture. Old books. A fire with dogs sleeping before it. Dozens of places to tie Isaiah down.

  “I do. Your rooms have a sleeping chamber, a sitting chamber, and
an area for a desk.” He could tell how badly Isaiah wished for this to work.

  “Thank you.” He moved a little closer to Isaiah, but not enough to cause concern. “What’s your biggest issue? What kind of couple are we meant to be?”

  Isaiah looked to his security, who was back in the room, and Jameson fought his growl.

  “I need everyone to understand that I am not vulnerable, that the family house is well-defended. I was never intended to lead the family, but it has fallen to me.”

  “That’s what I needed to know. The wine is excellent, by the way.”

  “The family still owns vineyards in Spain.” Isaiah stood very still. So contained. “I was pleased to hear Harve’s recommendation, honestly. So quickly. I wasn’t sure he would find anyone.”

  “Were you pleased? I hope I live up to it.” I think I can give you what you need, beauty.

  “I hope you find this a peaceful place. It used to be a place you could lose yourself for years in books.”

  That said all he needed to know. This one wasn’t used to command, or to being seen. Poor baby. “I like the hum.”

  Oh that smile. It lit Isaiah’s visage up like a spotlight. “You can hear it too?”

  “I can. It’s amazing.” In fact, in the house it was both louder and more comforting.

  “Very few people can hear it. My mother could, and I can, but that’s it.”

  “Really?” That statement genuinely surprised him. “It seems so obvious.”

  “Apparently not. I find it comforting.”

  “It is. It’s oddly so.” He smiled far more truly this time, hoping his fangs didn’t show. They tended to, which made it hard to be around humans in any lengthy capacity.

  Icy blue eyes landed on his fangs, and Isaiah licked his lips and hummed so softly.

  Oh, that made the teeth in question ache to bite. Tasty.