Holiday Bites: A Collection of Vampire Paranormal Romances (5 page)

He rolled her over with him so that he was splayed on his back and she sat on his stomach. As she slid onto his hard, hot cock, she planted her hands on his chest and rode him hard.
This feels incredible
. He loved the feel of his cock plunging into her, over and over. The coil of bliss tightened within him.

He played with her breasts, his fingers twisting her nipples.

Once again, his sweet lover tipped over the edge. Her vaginal convulsions caused his cock to slip out, but he rolled over and covered her. Sliding inside her slick pussy once more, he thrust inside her until another orgasm claimed him.

He groaned as he ejaculated—pleasure a bright burst of heat.

Thoroughly sated, he collapsed onto his beautiful valentine. She licked his collarbone. Laughing, he slid onto his side and cuddled with her. She looked at him dreamily.

“That was amazing,” she purred. “You’re a wonderful lover, Dominic.”

“WHAT THE HELL is the emergency?” asked Eve crossly. “You didn’t make any sense on the phone. We haven’t even checked into our room yet.” She gestured at the suitcases near their table.

After offering a mental suggestion that his mystery woman sleep, Michael had called Steven’s cell phone. His friends had just walked into the hotel, so he asked to meet them in the back booth of the hotel bar.

“I went into my room and there she was, my surprise. Only she keeps calling me Dominic.”

Eve frowned. “Your surprise? I gave you a box of blood truffles. Oh my God. You did your ... uh, thing with some random chick?”

“She was in my room wearing a ball gag, cuffs, and really sexy underwear. What was I supposed to think?”

“Fresh off the preeeessses,” trilled an unfamiliar voice. Michael took the flyer from the drunk blonde. Her red T-shirt said “Madra’s Minions.” “And don’t forget to vote for Dominic as Best Romance Cover Model.” She placed a pink ballot in front of Eve. Michael used his hypnotic voice, his eyes glowing the slightest red, and suggested she go away and forget the three people at the table.

“We did not choose a lover for you,” said Steven, as patient as ever. “You say she was in your room?”

“Yes.” Michael frowned. “The key didn’t work. So I used the ol’ mojo to unlock the door. It never occurred to me it was the wrong room.” His stomach clenched. “She was willing—more than willing. Damn it! I’ll just do a memory wipe and find some way to compensate her for...”
For the best sex I’ve had in forever
. He didn’t want to wipe her memory. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to ... oh, man. He wanted t
o
date her. What the hell was wrong with him? No human woman could keep up with his appetites.

None but her.

Vaguely aware of Eve’s continued sputtering and gesturing, he looked at the flyer given to him by the blonde.

THE BLOG BITCH


I’ll do anything for publicity.

Below the glaring title was a picture of his mystery woman. She was sitting on the bed in her black-lace bra and panties, the ball gag and cuffs making her look victimized instead of sexy.

“Who the fuck did this?” he demanded. He shoved the flyer toward Steven and Eve. “That’s her. That’s my valentine.”

“Valentine Carter. She’s one of my best friends. I booked all our rooms together.” Eve’s gaze widened. “How the hell did they get this photo? How did they make her dress like that?”

Michael’s fury was tempered by Eve’s confusion. “Her name really is Valentine? And you know her?”

His gaze fell on the ballot.
Dominic
. God, how could he have been so stupid? He pulled out the business card from his pants pocket and tossed it onto the table. “I met this asshole in the hallway. He must’ve just come from the room. He did that to her.”

“Dominic is gay,” said Steven as he picked up the card. “So, he didn’t create the situation for a sexual thrill. And he is fast friends with Madra Milton.”

Eve grimaced. “Val hasn’t been kind to romance authors in general, but she was particularly vicious about Madra’s work.” Eve folded the flyer in half, though Michael suspected she wanted to tear it into pieces. So did he.

“We have the same publisher,” mused Steven. “The industry rumor is that Madra’s sales have gone south. Her last romance wasn’t picked up, so she’s shopping a mystery.”

“Revenge?” asked Eve skeptically. “You can’t tell me that Val’s blog influenced thousands of readers.”

“Probably not,” agreed Steven. “But Val is a prime scapegoat for her rage. I suspect Dominic drugged her to get the results he wanted.”

“That may explain her eagerness,” said Michael, disappointed that Valentine hadn’t been hot for
him
. She’d just been hot. But it wasn’t her fault. It was Dominic’s—and Madra Milton’s. “There’s no way to get all the flyers or make a whole conference full of people forget that they’ve seen them.”

Steven smiled. “Then we shall do something else.”

MICHAEL INSISTED THAT he care for Valentine alone. Eve protested this idea vigorously until Steven shooed her into their room.

He awakened Valentine and used his glamour so she would do as he asked without question. He picked her up, carrying her to the bathroom and lowering her into a hot bath. He shampooed her hair then took a soaped washcloth and scrubbed her from head to toe. After her bath, he put her into a nightgown rummaged from her suitcase. Tucking her into bed, he cupped her face and stared deeply into her eyes.

He connected with her memories of the evening and erased every instant she’d spent with him. Though it killed him to do it, he left intact those moments spent with Dominic. The only thing he could do for her was give the suggestion that she would not feel humiliated, but instead would feel courageous. He also implanted the idea that she had gotten herself out of the cuffs and ball-gag and tucked herself in for the night.

“You will not remember me. You will sleep deeply and when you awake, you will feel well rested and alert,” he said, kissing her gently. “Good night, Valentine.”

As her eyes drifted shut, she whispered, “Good night, sweet prince.”

“VAMPIRES ARE REAL,” repeated Valentine. She rolled her eyes and speared another piece of scrambled egg. “You’ve read too many of Adora’s books.”

“Hey, you accused Steven of being a vampire yourself.”


“I was joking.”
Eve had invited Val for breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Val awoke feelin
g
refreshed, but it took less than five seconds to remember how she’d fallen for the smarmy Dominic.

“I’ll prove it tonight,” said Eve.

Yeah, sure, she would. “So Steven is asleep in his coffin?”


“He doesn’t have a coffin, but we take extra precautions in hotel rooms. He’l
l
sleep until dusk.”


Valentine wasn’t sure if Eve really believed she was engaged to a real vampire o
r
if her friend was setting her up for a practical joke. Their friendship had been rocky, and Val could put the blame squarely on her own shoulders. She had been hurt by Eve’s relationship with Steven, who was handsome, rich, and treated his fiancée like a queen. Val realized now that envy had driven her to say and do things that had hurt Eve. And yet her friend had stuck it out. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch. I haven’t treated you well, Eve. I’m grateful you’re still my friend.”

Eve smiled. “I’m here for you, babe. No matter how bitchy you get.”

“Thanks,” said Val, smiling. She attacked her toast. “I’m thinking about shutting down The Blog Bitch.”

“Really? Why?”

“I’m thinking about writing a novel. Someone suggested it might be a better way to spend my time.”

“Val, that’s wonderful. You would be a terrific novelist.”


She felt warmed by Eve’s praise. It would be so nice to focus her energies o
n
creating rather than destroying. Pushing away her breakfast plate, she snagged he
r
orange juice glass. “I’m still thinking about plots and characters. Do you think Steven would give me some advice, maybe share some insights about writing?”

“As long as you don’t mind meeting him at night.” Eve laughed. “I know you think I’m crazy, but he really is a vampire. And he’s not the only one, either.”

Valentine grinned. “I don’t know what you’re up to, woman, but I am not buying it.”

“If I can prove that vampires exist, will you let me get you a date for Valentine’s Day?”

“You know I don’t celebrate V-Day.” Val chugged her orange juice. “But what the hell. If you can prove vampires are as real as we are, I’ll go out with your mystery man.”

“Even if he’s a vampire?”


Val waved away Eve’s teasing. “Yeah, yeah.”


“Great. His name is Michael Sanderson. He’s really hot and he’ll call you to mak
e
arrangements.”


“Only if you can prove your fiancé is walking around without a pulse.
”
Valentine hesitated. “Wait a minute. Michael Sanderson? That name sounds familiar.”

“He’s a publicist,” said Eve. “You’ve probably heard his name around here o
r
y
o
u’ve seen it online. He and Steven have been friends for a long time.”


“A vampire publicist.” She snickered. “Doesn’t that make it difficult to wor
k
during the day? How the hell does he manage to schmooze?”

“He has minions.”

They both cracked up at the joke.

“Ms. Carter?”
Val looked up to see a harried woman in a pink jogging suit. Her brown hair wa
s
pulled into a topknot a la
I Dream of Jeannie
. A Gucci purse dangled from one arm, which also held a clipboard. The nametag on her shirt declared her to be Tabitha Johnson, Conference Chair.

“Oh, hi.” Val grabbed her tote and tried to find the conference schedule. “Am I late for the first workshop?”

“No, no,” Tabitha said. “We won’t need you to participate in the panels. For that matter, we’ve replaced you as a presenter at tonight’s award banquet.”

Val was stunned. They were ousting her from the panels and the banquet activities
today
? She nearly choked on her outrage, but she managed to ask, “Why?”

Tabitha’s eyes flashed with disgust. “We don’t need you mucking up a respectable conference with your idea of a publicity stunt. Madra Milton complained to me
personally
along with at least a dozen others. We support the romance industry and its authors, even if you don’t.”

Vitriol edged every word the woman spoke. Floundering in shock, Val glanced at Eve. Her friend stared daggers at the conference chair.

Tabitha returned the glare. “And
you
are?”

“Eve Moore,” she responded. “I’m engaged to Steven Jones, who writes as Adora LaFortune.”

Val enjoyed watching Tabitha blanch. Steven was no small potatoes in the romance world. His erotica novels were
New York Times
bestsellers.

“We’re looking forward to his presentation this evening. And we are thrilled he’s accepted keynote speaker for next year’s conference.” Tabitha cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. “I hope that this unfortunate event with Ms. Carter will not affect his opinion of our organization.”

“You’ll have to ask him,” said Eve.

“
What
is going on?” asked Val. “I don’t understand.”


“Oh, please,” snapped Tabitha. A sheet of paper was ripped from the clipboar
d
and tossed onto the table. “You are welcome to stay for the conference and of course, we will cover your expenses, but you will not be invited back. Ever.”

Tabitha turned up her nose and marched away, leaving Val the evidence of her so-called crime.

“Oh my God,” said Val as she picked up the flyer. She started at the color photo of herself bound and gagged. “Who did this? Why?”

But she knew why. She’d pissed off the wrong people and they’d gotten revenge. She tore up the paper and left the pieces on her half-finished breakfast. Her stomach felt sour as shame heated her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” said Eve. “It was a terrible thing to do.”

“Was it?” asked Valentine. She tossed a twenty onto the table and picked up her purse and tote.

“Forget this bullshit,” said Eve as she put another twenty on the table. “We need mall therapy.” She rounded the table and grasped Val’s shoulder. “I have a credit card that seriously needs to be abused.”

“Okay,” said Valentine. She wasn’t going to run away. She would regroup and return. She would stay for the rest of the conference with her head high and shoulders straight.

Damn them all.

“I’M ONLY HERE because I won’t let these bitches deprive me of food,” said Valentine as she poked at the rubbery chicken. The over-steamed vegetables looked about as appetizing as a pile of dog crap. She hadn’t eaten a bite, but she was hoping for a decent dessert.