Alpha Vampire Romance: Vampire’s Mate (Paranormal Shapeshifter Alpha Demon Vampire Romance) (Coming of Age Werewolf BBW Shifter Women’s Fiction Short Stories) (73 page)

*****

Tristan walked me back to my room. At the door, he kissed me on the cheek and promised me he’d see me the next day. I watched him wander down the hall and then I slid back into my room. Most of my wardrobe had been brought over to the house, except for all of my pajamas, they had been replaced with satin night gowns and satin camisole—shorts sets.

I sighed and opted for a blush-colored camisole and short set. I tried to go to bed and sleep, but I was too keyed up. I grabbed the television remote on the bedside table and turned on the flat screen over the mantle of the fireplace. I watched Nick at Nite for a few hours and still couldn’t get to bed. After our kiss, I just couldn’t settle down. I got out of bed and then padded into the kitchen for some water.

Micah was standing at the fridge, shirtless, and with nothing but a pair of black briefs on. Was black his favorite color or something? I didn’t pay too much attention to the color of his briefs. Instead my eyes were drawn to the outline along his thigh. It was thick and long. Micah cleared his throat and my eyes roamed his muscular torso up to his face. He was smirking at me and holding a bottle of water.

“Um…I was just coming to get some water,” I said and Micah reached into the fridge to pull out another bottle for me. I walked over to him and felt the heat coming off of him in waves.

“Are you hungry?” Micah asked me and he moved around me to place his water bottle on the counter. “I can make an excellent midnight snack, anything you want.” Micah said with a genuine smile. I was actually a little taken aback. He wanted to make something for me?

“Uh, sure, how about…some chocolate covered bacon?”

Micah smiled as if there was no task too big for him.

“Coming right up, it’ll be the best bacon you’ve ever had in your life,” he said.

I giggled and then sat up at the breakfast bar while he got two large Hershey’s bars out of the pantry and a package of bacon from the fridge.

“So you live here too?” I asked him and he looked at me as if the answer should have been obvious. He was practically naked after all.

“I have since I was five. My parents were killed in a battle against enemy warriors who wanted to claim our town. Lord Markus took me in as his own. Tristan and I have been best friends ever since.” Micah spoke about Tristan and Markus fondly; they were his family, it was plain to see.

“Wow…so do other dragon shifters come through here a lot wanting to take the town?” I asked. Micah shrugged as he got the pan hot for the bacon and a sauce pan ready to melt the chocolate.

“Occasionally. There are seasons for it though. In the summer is when we get most threats to our territory. Mostly other dragons from Canada or Central America. We really do have an ideal section of land here in the mountains and forests. It provides protection from the humans. We can both blend in and hide in plain sight amongst them.”

I watched the muscles of Micah’s back move as he began to fry the bacon and then whisk the chocolate as it melted.

“So the female dragons fight too?” I asked. Micah glanced back at me and snorted.

“Of course they do, if they want to that is, they are just as capable as the men are,” Micah said. I smiled. Well it was good that their society wasn’t archaic or anything. Micah finished up the chocolate covered bacon pretty quickly. The bacon was crispy and the combination of sweet and salt was to die for.

“Micah…this is so good,” I said and almost moaned in pleasure when I took another bite of the bacon. Micah smiled knowingly.

“I know it is, I happen to be a great chef,” I giggled and Micah grinned at me. I liked this Micah much more than the one I met initially. I picked up a piece of bacon that had yet to dry and a drop of chocolate fell onto my chin. Before I could even move Micah was beside me and he scooped up the drop with his finger. My eyes locked onto his and he held his finger out for me to lick the chocolate off.

I closed my lips around his finger and swiped the chocolate off with my tongue. He tasted delicious. Micah’s pupils dilated and I felt that familiar heat buffet against my skin. Slowly and deliberately Micah leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. A small moan escaped the back of my throat as I tasted chocolate on his soft lips and then his tongue passed over my bottom lip before he slid it into my mouth to caress mine.

My hands didn’t know where they wanted to go. I caressed his strong shoulders and slid them down the ridges of his biceps, and then I caressed his taut stomach and chest. Micah pulled me from my seat and then walked over to the couch where he laid me down and lowered some of his body weight onto me. Just enough so that I felt his hardness right at my core. I gasped and Micah’s mouth slid down from my neck to my collar and was going decisively lower. My skin was ablaze for his touch and my sex was throbbing with need.

Tristan’s face popped into my head and I pushed against Micah’s shoulders until he let me sit up. “We can’t do this can we? I mean…I am marrying Tristan in a couple of days.” I said and Micah sighed heavily.

“You’re right, this is wrong…you should go back to bed,” Micah said sullenly. His face was closed off and frankly I felt just as sullen as I stood up to leave. I had very real feelings for both Micah and Tristan and it just crept up on me.

What was I going to do?

*****

The next morning, I woke up to soft male voices speaking on either side of me. I wondered if it was a dream as both of the voices I realized belonged each to Tristan and Micah.  I opened my eyes and saw first Micah’s gorgeous face. Tristan’s hand was on my hip and I turned briefly to make sure it was him. They were both still in pajamas. Well Tristan was wearing pajama bottoms, Micah was still in his briefs. The sun had barely risen and both men were extremely close to me.

“Good morning Stephanie,” Tristan said, smiling. I simply blinked at him before I turned back to Micah who gave me a slow and sexy smirk.

“Morning…what’s going on?” I asked cautiously. Micah brushed the hair from my eyes and Tristan leaned forward to press a kiss to my shoulder. The brief interactions sent tingles through every nerve ending and some very sensitive muscles south of my belly button clenched in anticipation.

“We both want you Stephanie,” Tristan said and I rolled over onto my back so I wasn’t facing only one person. I glanced in between them in befuddlement.

“You…you mean you
both
have feelings for me…too?” I asked, still cautious. Tristan’s smile widened and Micah’s smirk turned into a full on grin.

“Yes and we think it would be best if we share you as our mate,” Micah said quietly. A thrill ran through me and I smiled.

“Really?” I asked with excitement leaking into my voice. They both chuckled and Tristan scooted closer to me. He pressed a kiss to my neck and goose bumps broke out across my skin as the sensation rippled through me.

“Yes, really,” he murmured and then he kissed me again, his tongue flicking out and tasting my skin. I gave a breathy moan and Micah’s hand slid up my camisole until he cupped my breast; he squeezed it in his hand and then pinched my nipple as he rolled it in between his fingers.

I gasped at the shot of pleasure that rippled through my core. My clit was throbbing and already my hips were moving as I sought some relief from the building pressure.

Tristan slipped his hand beneath the waistband of my shorts and his fingers found my clitoris immediately. I moaned out loud that time as he rubbed against the sensitive nub with the perfect amount of pressure. At the rate they were going I was going to climax in no time. Micah’s mouth closed around my nipple through the satin camisole and his tongue flicked against it before he gently nibbled on it with his teeth. I was breathing heavily and it felt like pleasure was coursing through my every vein.

Tristan’s fingers slid into my core easily with how wet I was and he pushed right against my G-spot. My back arched and he continued to work his fingers while Micah used his mouth on my breasts. The orgasm rushed through me like an electric wave and I clenched around Tristan’s fingers in spasms as my entire body shook with the pleasure. I was breathing hard when I came back down from the climax and then I realized that my clothes had been torn off of me and both Tristan and Micah were naked.

My eyes widened when I took in the size of them and I wet my lips with my tongue. Micah groaned and he scooted down between my legs where he pulled my knees over his shoulders. Micah’s mouth found my clit and he slid his tongue over it and then flicked against it hard and fast. I cried out, but then my cries of pleasure were muffled as I became preoccupied with Tristan’s straining cock. It was edging it towards my mouth and I flicked my tongue out against the engorged head before I took him into my mouth. Tristan moaned and then cursed, which was uncharacteristic of him, but sexy as hell.

I took him deeper into my mouth and his hands held my head and face tenderly as I sucked on him. Down below I felt Micah spreading the wetness from my core to my anus as he pushed a finger inside. My hand fisted in the sheets and my lips tightened around the base of Tristan’s cock. He moaned again and ordered Micah to do whatever he had just done to me again. Micah slipped another finger into me and I groaned at the feeling of fullness.

“Have you done this before Stephanie?” Micah asked as he slowly moved his fingers in and out of me. I nodded and then Tristan slid his cock out of my mouth, Micah moved up on the bed and laid down while he gripped my waist and positioned me over him. I felt him position his cock at the entrance of my sex and push slowly in, it felt like he filled me completely. I moaned as he began to slowly move in and out of me while Tristan used my arousal to lubricate himself as he slid into my ass.

I cried out as the feeling of fullness felt so good it was hard to breathe and not taste the pleasure that was coursing through me. Both Tristan and Micah started to move in tandem and I simply held on to Micah for the ride as they both thrust into me over and over again. I couldn’t help but cry out their names as their pace got faster and the pleasure got to be nearly too much.

I knew my orgasm was going to be devastating. The room was also filled with moans from both Tristan and Micah. I felt the sharp of edge of climax rocket through me and then I was falling into a million pieces. My vision blurred and I wasn’t aware of anything else other than being connected to both Tristan and Micah in that moment. I knew that they were it for me; for some reason I felt at home with them and I didn’t want it any other way. First Micah and then Tristan emptied their release into me. They had fully claimed me as theirs. 

When our breathing returned to normal I found I was tucked securely in both Tristan and Micah’s arms. “That was amazing,” I whispered and they both chuckled. Micah kissed me softly on the lips and Tristan trailed kisses up my arm.

“It’s safe to say we’ll have a joint wedding then? You’ll agree to be our shared mate?” Tristan asked hopefully. I nodded and then smiled.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I said and I snuggled securely in their warmth.

THE END

Bonus Story 18 of 25

There it is again. The beeping of that dang alarm clock that I hate so much. The curtains on the window do very little to shield my eyes from the sun as I roll over to hit the snooze button for a couple more minutes of well-deserved sleep. There is only one problem with my plan. I am already at the edge of the bed and you might say that my roll was enough to send me over the edge. Literally.

Oof. I forget sometimes how hard wooden floors are. Nothing is broken, but I’ll have bruises for a few days thanks to that dang alarm clock. And speaking of alarm clocks. The thing is still going crazy on the night stand. It fits snugly in my hand, almost as well as a softball and that gives me an idea. I used to throw a pretty mean softball when I played on the team at school. Let’s see if I still have it. My wind up rips the cord from the wall with a jerk. The release is perfect and I watch, still in my pajamas and grumpy from falling out of the bed, as the alarm clock slams into the far wall and shatters.

“Serves you right.” I tell the cheap hunk of plastic as I pad by it to the bathroom.

I make a habit of not looking of myself in the mirror when I first get up so I won’t have to see what my hair looks like. Tossing and turning in bed does a number on my already curly hair and I don’t particularly like seeing it all in a mess. Once the water is on and at the right temperature I climb into the shower. The warm water does wonders for my muscles, sore from falling out of bed, so I take a few more minutes than I normally would. Alright. I stayed in for thirty minutes.

The shower was nice and it helped to wake me up some, but nothing like this new coffee I’m drinking. A bean from Costa Rica that has enough caffeine to really get my day going nicely. As I sip on the cup the sweet thought that I don’t have to work today slips into my mind. Yes! A small romp around the room seems in order, but after a couple laps around the island in the kitchen I’m bent over, towel on my head with my hands on my knees, panting like I just ran a 5k marathon. Looking down I can see that my cute little muffin top has turned into a full-blown spare tire. When the heck did that happen?

“Note to self. I need to work out.”

I really do, but not until I’ve had another cup of this coffee. Turning on the TV I flick through the news channels to make sure that the world didn’t end while I was asleep. The group on channel three seems to be chipper about some new application for their smartphones, so I guess the world is still going after all. Since I don’t have to be anywhere today I decide that I might go to the store for a few things. I never was one to sit around all day on my day off, even though I pretend to be.

In the bedroom I throw on a pair of sweats, a bulky blue sweater that I like more than anything I own and an old pair of shoes. One look in the mirror is all I need to see that I’m not winning any beauty pageants, but I didn’t plan on entering any today anyway.

What a world we live in. I have to lock my door and I don’t plan on being gone more than fifteen minutes. Twenty at the most. When I was a little girl, we never locked our door. Never. But then again my dad was the Sheriff for twenty years in Grain Valley. People knew that we had guns and they knew that we would use them. I have a gun too. A little .32 revolver in my purse and I know how to use it.

I push the button on my key fob and I’m rewarded with the honk of my car horn telling me that I can get in now without the alarm scaring the living daylights out of me and everyone else in the neighborhood. My little car has been with me for a long time now, but it still starts like it did the day I got it. I back out of the driveway and crank the music up. The music pours from the speakers and I head out for my big adventure for the day. A three minute drive to the grocery store.

Normally this is where I would be griping about having to work at a nursing home six days a week from Tuesday to Sunday, but pulling into the parking lot this morning I’m glad for the weird schedule. There aren’t five cars in the parking lot. For most people today is the start of the work week, but not for me. Eat that Garfield. I don’t hate Mondays. I love them.

I lock the doors on my car with the button on my key fob and once again the honk of the horn lets me know that everything is safe and secure. Inside the store I grab a cart and start for the frozen food section. I like my pizza, but as my little run around the kitchen let me know earlier pizza doesn’t like me so well. Or maybe it likes me too well. Either way I put five of them in the cart along with a couple of boxes of bread sticks. Nothing better for a late night snack than a couple of bread sticks heated up in the microwave. I top off my purchase with a couple half gallons of ice cream; rocky road and fudge brownie blast. A couple bottles of red wine and I’m done, so I start for the registers. Okay, five bottles of wine, but don’t judge me. I like to watch TV and drink a glass or five of wine of a night.

Of course. No one is working at the registers. I guess I’ll have to go to the most beautiful cashier in the place. I pull my cart up to the self-checkout knowing full well that something will go wrong. There it is!

The light above me goes off when I try to scan the wine and an automated voice tells me that I need to wait for an employee to verify that I am twenty-one or older. Thank you Mr. Machine. I’m flattered, but I’m thirty-eight. I haven’t looked like I was underage for twenty years or more.

After a five minute wait a lady with a scrunched up face that looks like she is pissed off at the world and just waiting for someone to vent on comes shuffling around to where I am. She takes one look at me and scoffs as she puts in her key and turns it. A couple taps on the keyboard and Mr. Machine says that he is satisfied that I am old enough to buy booze.

“Thank you.”

I try to tell the lady that too, but she merely gives me another scoff and shuffles back out of sight to her labyrinth or wherever it was that she came from. I do all the work myself and it still took me just as long as it would have if a human cashier would have helped me, but then again they didn’t have to pay anyone to help me. I did the work myself. Next time I’ll have to wear a blue vest to show them that I’m a valued employee.

Once my goods are loaded into my car I pull out onto the road and crank the music back up. No radio for this woman. Don’t get me wrong. I like country. Not this new drivel. I like country from back in the old days when it was real country.

The light turns red and forces me to stop beside an older woman in a full-sized sedan. My singing draws her eyes as I continue to jam out to my music and belt the words out at the top of my voice. She rolls her eyes and mumbles something to herself as the light turns green and she pulls away. I smile and ignore her. Most people are too scared to act themselves. Why? I am who I am and I’m not ashamed in the least. If I want to sing at the top of my lungs, I’ll do it and to hell with anyone who doesn’t like it. As I near my house, I notice that something isn’t the same as when I left. It takes my brain a second to realize that there is a motorcycle in by driveway that wasn’t there when I left earlier.

Who do I know that drives a motorcycle? No one, that’s who. Laying my purse in easy reach so I can grab my little .32 pistol if necessary, I pull into the driveway. A large man comes around the corner and right away a smile breaks out on his face. It takes me a moment to recognize him, but the smile gives it away. No one but my stepbrother could have that smile and those eyes.

*****

I slam the car in park and leap out without turning it off. Running up the driveway I try to think how long it has been since I last saw him. It has to be at least five years. Maybe six.

“Jonathan!” I call out to him and his smile widens even more.

“Martha!”

We meet and he wraps me up in a bear hug. He always was a big guy, but now he is absolutely huge and judging by the way he crushes my sides with his bear hug I’d say that most of it is muscle. I pull back and look up at him. He always was taller than me.

“You look good,” I say. “Not sure about the mustache, though.”

He rubs his mustache, smiles and shakes his head. “You always did say whatever was on your mind Martha.”

“No use hiding what you’re thinking.”

“You look good too.” He holds me at arm’s length and looks me over.

“Yeah right. I look like I’ve been eating too much and working out too little. Speaking of eating. I’ve got some groceries in the car. Help me bring them in and I’ll fix you something if you’re hungry.”

“I just ate, but I’ll help.”

We gather the groceries out of the car and he hefts the bags with all the wine bottles in them. He shakes his head with a smile and starts for the house without a word. I unlock the door and let him inside. Pointing him to the kitchen, I follow after shutting the door. He sits the bags on the island.

“Groceries huh?” He clinks the bottles together.

“I like grapes.”

He bellows laughter and pulls one of the bottles out of its bag. “I might not be hungry, but I am thirsty. Do you have anything besides this stuff?”

“Sorry, but I don’t.” I don’t drink beer and rarely drink anything stronger than wine.

“Give me a minute.” He turns and starts for the door.

“You’re leaving already?” I ask.

“No. I’m going to run down to a little package store I saw on my way into town and pick up something different to drink. Do you want anything?”

“Yeah. A bottle of vodka.”

“Vodka?” He raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t changed a bit have you?”

“No, but you have and now that you’re here we’re going to celebrate you being back. I haven’t seen you in five years.”

“Six.”

“Has it been that long?”

“It has.” He opens the door and turns back. “I’ll be right back and then we can get to catching up. So long.”

That ‘so long’ makes it sound like he is never coming back, but it’s just a thing we have done ever since I can remember. We never say goodbye. We always say so long. If you knew anything about rock, you would probably know what song that comes from, but if you don’t I won’t be too hard on you.

The sound of Jonathan’s bike is a loud rumble like thunder as he starts it up and pulls out of the driveway. I take the time he is gone in to put away the groceries that I bought and put on some different clothes. Not that I’m not comfortable, but it seems to me that sweats and a sweater aren’t exactly clothes to have on for company even if it is your stepbrother. I slip into an older grey shirt that I like because it enhances my more than ample breasts and it has one of my favorite sayings on the front. ‘Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present.’ A pair of shorts that show off my legs and I feel much better. You might be wondering why I didn’t put on a pair of shoes and I’ll tell you. I hate shoes. I’d go barefoot if I could, but people give you weird looks if you do that in public. You might also be wondering about my choice of clothes, but I can assure you that I’m not trying to seduce my stepbrother. If he notices what I am wearing then so be it.

I pour myself a generous glass of wine and wait for Jonathan to get back. As I wait, I find myself wondering what he is like after experiencing war. I’ve seen the television shows and the movies that depict men who have gone to war as being totally different than they were before. Will he still be the same guy who liked to listen to funk while he smoked a joint? Something tells me no, but we’ll see.

The rumble of his bike is loud as he comes down the street and pulls back into the driveway. Seconds later he knocks on the door. I roll my eyes and hurry to the door. He is standing on the other side with a paper sack in each hand and a grin on his face.

“You don’t have to knock you dork,” I tell him.

“Yes, I do. This isn’t my house Martha. It’s yours and I won’t just go barging in.”

“Don’t look at it like that. My house is always your home Jon. Whenever you need it. Remember that.”

“Thanks.” For a second his voice is hoarse and tearful, but then it returns to its normal gruff tone. “Now are you going to let me in so I can put this stuff down or am I going to stand here on the sidewalk all day?”

“Get in here.”

*****

He sits the paper bags down on the counter top and rips them down the sides. The case of beer he puts in the fridge, but he leaves the bottle of vodka on the counter top. He opens a beer and downs most of its contents in a single swallow.

“Where do you keep your glasses Sis?”

Wow. That felt weird. I haven’t had anyone call me Sis in a long time, but I have to admit that it also felt pretty good. I point him to the cabinet above the sink and check out the bottle of vodka he brought. It’s a half gallon! Good lord. Apparently when I said celebrate, he took it as get fall down drunk and pass out before the sun goes down.

While he looks for glasses, I tell him I have something I need to do really quickly, and step into my bedroom. I think I better call work before I get too far gone and tell them I won’t be in for work tomorrow. I’ve got a few vacation days stored up and a few sick days as well. Who am I trying to kid? I’ve got five weeks of vacation and I’ve never taken a sick day since I started working at the nursing home. I call the shift boss for tomorrow and she answers the phone on the first ring.

“Hello Martha. Is there something I can do you for?” Ginger’s voice is always so calm and gentle. It’s a lot of the reason she is so good with people.