Bitten By The Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Vampire Romance

BITTEN BY

THE BAD BOY

JASMINE WHITE

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2016 JASMINE WHITE

All Rights Reserved To SimplyShifters.com 

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About This Book

Kyra never usually did one night stands but after meeting nightclub owner Patton she found the prospect extremely alluring.

There was something about his bad boy demeanor that just sucked her in. His strong jaw, his muscles, his tattoos. Everything about him made him so hard to resist and Kyra simply could not say no.

But then after waking up in the morning to find her lover had vanished she began to wonder if it was all a dream. 

However, the bite on her neck was soon to become a reminder that this was all anything but a dream...

ALSO...

THIS LIMITED EDITION PACKAGE ALSO INCLUDES

THE BELOW FREE BONUS BOOK!

Obeying The Vampire Billionaire

College graduate Chloe Bishop was used to obeying her bosses in her previous jobs and when she began to work for mysterious CEO Michael Andreas she expected no different.

However, Chloe had no idea that Michael was actually a vampire and very soon she would be obeying him in more ways than one...

Table Of Contents

#1 MAIN BOOK  –BITTEN BY THE BAD BOY

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

#BONUSBOOK
– OBEYING THE VAMPIRE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

BITTEN BY THE BAD BOY

Chapter One

“Stop fidgeting, K.” Reina’s bangles jingled as she unzipped Kyra’s jacket – again. “I swear - people will think you’re a nun. Please try to have fun tonight. Meet a guy. Get kissed. Hell, get laid. Just, get something.”

“A little modesty goes a long way.” Kyra retorted. “Honestly, just because you wear dental floss and sleep with every dick you meet doesn’t mean I have to.”

Reina pouted. “It’s yarn and I made it myself.” She smoothed the crochet dress so that it once again covered her rear – just barely. “And, I only sleep with some of the dicks I meet.”

“You mean there are men in this city who you haven’t slept with, Rey?” Bree stepped between them and looped her arm protectively through Kyra’s.

“Not all of us are switch-hitters, Bree.” Reina fluttered her eyelashes sweetly. “Not that I care, but just because your partners are often women doesn’t mean you don’t sleep around just as much.”

“Touché.” Bree grinned and fluffed her pixie cut. She was sporting a new soft blonde hair color, but that was not unusual for her. She changed her look almost as often as she changed jobs. Androgynous did not even begin to describe Bree, who was sporting a cropped flannel top and leather pants.

She looked down at Kyra, “leave the jacket unzipped. I don’t know why you insisted on wearing it when you know it’s going to get hot in there.” She gestured toward the repurposed warehouse before them, nondescript except for the not so subtle, neon blue sign labeling the entrance to Blade.

“C’mon, we are celebrating your vacation.” Reina grasped Kyra’s free arm. “You have to let loose a little. It’s not healthy to be so – so - perfect all of the time. You used to be fun.”

Kyra grumbled. “I let loose, remember? I had a drink before we left the house and another in the car. And, I’m not perfect.” She tried to zip the black leather jacket they’d forced on her. It was the compromise to the dress they’d made her wear – a form-fitting spandex number that would have made a porn star shudder. Kyra felt exposed as her friends practically dragged her to the entrance of the newest club in town. 

For the hundredth time, Kyra regretted telling her friends about her vacation. It wasn’t exactly her idea – or even voluntary for that matter – and clubbing was the last thing she wanted to be doing with her job in jeopardy. She knew what they would say if they knew the whole story behind her week-long hiatus. Kyra should have just hidden in her apartment for a week instead of being dragged to a dance club. If she did something ridiculous and her bosses found out, they wouldn’t hesitate to use it against her.

“Kyra, let loose, let it all hang out, have a little fun tonight,” Bree whispered in her ear and dragged her forward.

They stopped short at the red velvet ropes. Reina ignored the rest of the line and gestured to one of the massive bouncers. “Give me a minute.” She giggled as the twin-of-Thor lifted her into a hug and grabbed a handful of her now exposed ass.

“Here, try this.” Bree shoved a flask in her face. “I promise, it will help and it tastes good, my own personal concoction. You know Rey’s not letting you out of here until you at least pretend to have fun.”

Kyra nodded her agreement and tipped the flask to her lips. The liquid burned down her esophagus and filled her stomach with a peculiar warmth. It didn’t taste terrible. She took a few more sips; it couldn’t hurt and it actually tasted kind of good after the third sip. Kyra handed the flask back to Bree as Reina rejoined them.

“We’re in.” Reina glowed, her green eyes bright and mischievous. “I even got VIP bands.” Reina produced the blue bracelets and had one on Kyra’s wrist before she could refuse. Bree gave Kyra a knowing look and accepted her own VIP bracelet.

They ignored the protests from the line of scantily clad women who did not know Biff the Bouncer as intimately as Reina apparently did. She led the way, her golden brown curls bouncing to the beat of what passed for music in Blade. Half nude bodies writhed in a glittering mass as spotlights surveyed the mirrored floor.

Kyra tried to look away but there was no reprieve. Would-be go-go dancers adorned the bar like a bad rendition of Coyote Ugly. Reina laughed and acknowledged dozens of admirers as the trio navigated the strobe-lit orgy toward the back of the club. Kyra almost feared what she’d find there.

The DJ, a barely post-pubescent with spiked green hair waved enthusiastically to Reina as they passed. Kyra opened her mouth to comment but Bree elbowed her in the ribs and pushed her through the heavy, velvet curtains into the low lights of the VIP suite. Kyra balked. The noise was somehow damped down, though it still reverberated through the hardwood floor into her core like aftershocks of a quake. Poorly lit, high-backed booths surrounded a dimly lit dance floor that was all but empty. Kyra followed Reina to an empty booth and slid in beside her friend.

Bree settled in beside her and gave her hand a supportive squeeze. “Just have a few drinks, dance a few songs, and we’ll leave.”

“No, we won’t.” Reina leaned in. “Kyra is going to have fun tonight one way or another.”

“Bands.” A platinum blonde waif appeared at their table, interrupting what would have been another lecture about Kyra living a little. The waif pointed at Reina, “I know you but I don’t know them.”

“They’re friends, Liv.” Reina’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “They’ve got bands.”

Kyra and Bree raised their wrists to show their own VIP passes. Satisfied, the blonde’s demeanor changed – but only slightly. “What do ya want?” Her accent was peculiar, not local or anything Kyra had heard before. Her eyes landed on Bree and the corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly. Kyra swore the woman’s eyes flashed silver for a moment but she blinked and they were blue again.

“Three of the house specials.” Reina’s uncharacteristically clipped response surprised Kyra.

“Coming right up, Rey.” The blonde, Liv, winked at Bree who squeezed Kyra’s knee.

Once Liv was out of sight, Reina leaned in toward Bree. “Not that one, B.” Reina blinked and chuckled as if remembering herself. “Not tonight, I mean. We’re here for Kyra to get some action, not you!”

“No action necessary, just hangin’ with my girls is enough excitement for me.” Kyra’s eyes traveled over the room as they adjusted to the dimmer light.

The soft lights over the dance floor cast some illumination on the walls but not much, just enough to tell Kyra that most of the booths were occupied and most eyes were on the small dance floor. She had no desire to dance in this room, not with these people. But what else was she going to do?
Maybe Reina was right
, she thought
, maybe if she just let loose she would see a way to make
things right at work
. The sudden realization that somebody was watching her jarred her back to the present. Kyra could feel eyes on her, that strange chill down her spine.

“Three house specials.” Liv set the drinks down. “Compliments of the gentlemen at table three.” She nodded in their direction and Reina made a point of raising her glass in their direction.

“You’re going to have to dance now, Kyra.” Reina grinned. “Maybe we should pull out some of our old college routines. Remember the Kappa party?”

Kyra cringed. Yes. Yes, she did remember. “No.”

“Come on, K. It’s sexy and they bought us drinks.” Reina pleaded, her eyes glittering in the dim light.

Bree sighed heavily. She leaned in and countered, “if we do this with you, will you let us sit here and happily enjoy our drinks until it’s time to leave?”

Reina pretended to consider it. “Deal.”

“Why do I feel like you two just tricked me?” Kyra sank in her seat. “I can’t do that out there.”

“Sure you can. You’ve got liquid courage just like you did back then.” Bree dumped the rest of the contents of the flask into Kyra’s drink. “Chug.”

“Come on, K. You don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow.” Reina and Bree were at it again. They knew how to break her.

“The museum is forcing you to take a vacation.” Bree interjected and pushed the glass closer.

“They’re going to let your intern work on the new collection for the fundraiser,” Reina taunted.

“You are their top curator, devoted to their collection and the success of the whole museum but they are making you take time off. Doesn’t that make you angry?” Bree delivered the kill shot.

Kyra caved. She chugged her drink and smacked the glass on the table triumphantly. Screw it.

The effects of the alcohol spread through her system, warm and welcoming like an old friend. Her body felt lighter as Reina and Bree led her to the dance floor. A sultry blues tune filled the room and Kyra followed the beat, moving in sync with her best friends. She felt disconnected as her body remembered the slinking moves, grinding and rocking in a dance that made the main floor look like the Mickey Mouse Club.

Kyra’s jacket disappeared somehow, but she didn’t care anymore. The song seemed to continue for hours but she wasn’t sure about time at all anymore. Gone was the proper museum curator, replaced by the old Kyra, the buried Kyra.

Then Reina was gone, defected to table three to work on more drinks. Kyra felt Bree’s hand on hers and began to follow her back toward their table. She was watching Reina and didn’t notice the man until they collided. He was hard and Kyra bounced off him but did not hit the floor. He caught her, set her upright and stared as if waiting for something.

“Most people apologize when they run into somebody else.” His voice was soft but with undercurrents of authority.

“She’s sorry, she’s had a little too much to drink and I’m just trying to get her back to the table.” Bree stepped between them defensively.

“Is she a mute?” The man challenged, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“No,” Kyra said defiantly, though the slurred response was much less effective than she would have liked.

“You will dance with me.” It wasn’t a request; it was an order. He stepped around Bree and held a hand out to Kyra. She noted the tight, black dress shirt tucked neatly into tailored black pants and topped off by heavy black boots that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe.

Maybe this would shut Reina up
, she thought. Kyra gave Bree their signal and took the man’s hand. She stumbled in the turn but he steadied her. “Your shoes are ridiculous.”

“Did you ask me to dance just to insult me?” Kyra spun with her mystery man as the room spun around him. Apparently one drink could kill her. Or this man would. She looked into his face, strong jaw, nice skin, chiseled cheek bones leading into chocolate pools that reflected her own. Stray hair fell in his face as they moved, whirling around the dance floor in a waltz she thought she’d forgotten. “Are we waltzing?”

“Yes.” He considered her for a long moment, “and yes.”

“Why do you want to dance with me if you don’t even like me?” Kyra’s stomach flipped.

“I don’t even know you. I simply wanted to dance with you.” His eyes flashed. “And perhaps more.”

“I’m here with my friends.” Kyra nodded toward Bree who seemed deep in conversation with the platinum blonde.

“They seem occupied.” He inclined his head and spun Kyra so she could see table three where Reina had taken up residence. “So, you are free to be with me.”

“I don’t even know you,” Kyra protested lamely.

“That does not matter.” His eyes flared, pupils disappeared into the irises.

He pulled her into him, stretching her body against his and kissed her. Electricity flooded her body and burned out everything until she was only aware of him. Kyra was alive for the first time in the arms of her mystery man.

She let him lead her from the club, gave him her address, left her friends and slid into his sports car. Kyra invited him into her home and into her room. She returned his kisses, reveled in his touch, and cried out as he shredded her clothes. Kyra never knew need before. Now, she needed this man and knew it to be so with every fiber of her being. He was the beginning and end of everything for her.

“Sit and watch me.” He instructed, not harshly but with an air of authority Kyra could not refuse.

He kicked off his boots, leaving them in the middle of the room. Strong fingers moved quickly as he unbuttoned his shirt, removed it, and cast it on her reading chair. His belt seemed to unbuckle itself and his pants dropped to the ground. He wore nothing else. Kyra inhaled sharply. He was beautiful. He offered a cocky grin and strode to her bed.

“Why?” Kyra whispered.

He did not answer. Instead, his body covered hers so that she felt him, felt his desire for her. His mouth slanted over hers as his hands roved over her body. He kissed down her jawline to her neck and then, his fingers entered her. Kyra cried out and rocked into him.

“More.” Kyra demanded.

He withdrew his fingers and drove into her with a low growl. Kyra fought to roll over so that she could be on top, hands pressed against his chest as she rode him. He watched her, allowed her to be in control for a time, held her hips so that he could penetrate deeper. Kyra cried out many times, lost count of how many times she came before he rolled back over and took control.

His hands were like torches on her body as they explored every inch, every crevice of her form. Kyra rode the waves of ecstasy until they both went limp. He whispered something in her ear in a strange language and then she fell asleep as the waves of ecstasy ebbed.