Holiday Bites: A Collection of Vampire Paranormal Romances

Holiday Bites

A Collection of Vampire Paranormal Holiday Romances

By
Michele Bardsley

Copyright 2014 by Michele Bardsley.

All rights reserved.

Information About This Work

Please note:
These stories are super hot and contain sexy vampires looking for their forever loves. Recommended for readers 18+.

Christmas for Eve

EVE MOORE READ the review posted on The Blog Bitch and sighed. Leaning over the shoulder of her friend Val Carter—who was the bitch in question—she tapped the screen. “That’s a harsh review of Madra Milton’s book.”

“Hey, I pay good money for novels. If they disappoint me, I have a right to say so.” Val logged off her blog site and shut down her laptop.

“When’s the last time you bought a new book?”

“Yesterday.” Val pushed away from the tiny desk and stood up. She grinned. “Adora LaFortune’s
Midnight Mask
.”

“You didn’t! Val … no.”

“Oh, yes. I’m saving it for my Holiday Hell Reads.”

Eve grimaced. Lately, Val had gotten more delight out of trashing than of reading romance novels. Not even her favorite authors were immune from her increasingly negative opinions.

“It seems ironic that a woman named Valentine can’t find anything nice to say about love, romance, intimacy or the books that celebrate those emotions.”

Val shrugged. “Just because I’m named Valentine doesn’t mean I have to buy in to the whole concept of soulmates and happily-ever-afters.” She looked at Eve. “Just because you’re dating
Adora
doesn’t make her immune from The Blog Bitch. How is ol’ Stevenander Jones, anyway?”

Eve was relieved at her friend’s change of tone. “Almost finished with his next book. He makes more money writing erotic romances as Adora, but his first love is the horror genre.”

“Good thing I don’t review horror books. C’mon. Let’s get some wine.”

Eve followed Val from the bedroom into the apartment’s small kitchen. Val retrieved the bottle of blackberry merlot from the fridge.

“I don’t know how the man researches his horror novels,” said Eve, as she watched Val pour the wine, “but what we do for the erotica is fun.”

“Hmm. He doesn’t come out during the day, he doesn’t like junk food, he’s a wine snob, and the dude needs a tan.” Val grinned. “Obviously, he’s a vampire.”

“For a man who’s undead he sure doesn’t mind garlic,” said Eve. “Besides, he collects crosses. You should see his house. Seems like every wall has some sort of cross or crucifix on it.”

“Are you sure there’s not anything wrong with him? You’ve reached the six-month mark, which is a record for you.” Val gave her a glass of blackberry merlot then leaned against the counter.

“I feel like I’ve known him forever. He’s wonderful.” She sipped the wine then looked beseechingly at her friend. “Do you have to blog about
Midnight Mask
?”

“You didn’t protest this much when I blogged about
Swelter
, which was your favorite Adora book of all time. Of course, that was before you met the almighty book god and started boinking him.”

Startled at Val’s vehemence, Eve frowned. “That’s not fair.”

“You used to think The Blog Bitch was funny as hell until you got mixed up with Steven.”

“You are still funny as hell. But I worry about you, okay?” Eve put her wineglass onto the kitchen counter. “The blog was your therapy. The divorce was hard on you and you needed the escape. But it’s been a year, Val. Don’t you think you should
try
to have a life?”

Val swirled the merlot and stared at the liquid. “The Blog Bitch
is
my life. I’m making a little income from the ads. I’m getting thousands of hits every day. In fact, I’ve been invited to the Heart of Readers romance convention in February.”

“That’s great.” Eve finished her wine and placed the glass into the small kitchen sink. “Will you be home tomorrow?”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” said Val with a sigh. “Where else would I be?”

Eve’s heart went out to her friend. Val was an only child. Her parents had died years ago in a car accident. She had no one with whom to celebrate the holidays. Eve had no siblings, either. Her parents died had died when she was ten-years-old and she’d been raised by her maternal grandmother. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to Steven’s house? We’ll have plenty of food and alcohol. He bought every Christmas movie ever made. It’ll be fun.”

“Three’s a crowd.” Val flashed a tired smile. “But thanks.”

Eve gave her friend a hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

AS EVE STEPPED onto Steven’s porch, she withdrew the house key from her purse. She was still worried about her friend, and the fact Val had planned to review
Midnight Mask
. Steven didn’t deserve Val’s rancor. He was the kindest man she’d ever known. He could be a tender lover, and a demanding one. Their sex life was off-the-charts. If The Blog Bitch was Val’s crack, then Steven was Eve’s. Mmm. He was one sweet addiction.

She opened the front door and shut it behind her, automatically turning the deadbolt. Tossing her purse onto the halltree, she walked upstairs to Steven’s office. He wasn’t behind his messy desk typing furiously on his laptop, so she went across the hall to his bedroom.

“Hello, darling.” Steven lay on the bed wearing a ragged pair of jeans and nothing else. He held a page in one hand and a blue pencil in the other. A pile of papers covered his lap.

“Are those the copy edits for
Swelter, Too
?” she asked. Her mood lifted instantly. As the author’s girlfriend, she’d gotten to read the sequel to Adora’s most popular erotic romance. She loved
Swelter
, but the sequel, which continued the story of the three lovers, Derina, Robert, and Warick, was hotter and better than the first one. She couldn’t wait to hold the published book in her hands.

“Yes, it’s
Swelter, Too
… the novel I wrote for
you
, my biggest fan.”

“Funny how you wrote it before you met me.” She crawled onto the bed and nuzzled his shoulder. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I suspect.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you say you were going to visit Val?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I’m really worried about her. I think she’s using her blog as an excuse to lock herself away from the world.”

Steven put down the page and the pencil, moved the manuscript onto the nightstand, and then drew her into his embrace.

“She bought
Midnight Mask
,” said Eve. “Even if she enjoys it, I don’t think she’ll say anything nice. She used to love to read romance novels. Now, she takes pleasure in ripping ’em apart.”

“We all have our pleasures, darling.”

Eve sat up and looked at him. His eyes were gold-green—tiger eyes. He was gorgeous. Nearly six feet tall, he was lean and muscled. He had longish tawny hair and face that belonged in
GQ
. He listened to her rant, his expression one of comfort and concern. His fingers sifted through her hair. “I love the new style. Did you add red highlights?”

“Yes. You notice everything.”

“I can’t stop looking at you.” He cradled her face and nibbled on her bottom lip. He pressed her into the bed and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. “Let me love you.”

“Always.”

Steven’s long fingers stroked the skin revealed by the vee of her silk shirt. Eve nearly purred when his hand dipped inside her bra to cup her breast. He pinched her nipple, chuckling at her murmured request to do it again.

He undid each button, kissing each sliver of revealed skin until the blouse fell away. He pressed his face against her belly and whispered, “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been a whole day. And it was a very boring day where I answered phones and took messages and looked cute behind a really tall desk.”

He laughed; his breath ghosted across her navel. “You don’t need to work. You have me.”

Hmm. But for how long?
Eve felt the familiar dance of butterflies in her belly as Steven helped her wiggle off the skirt.  She kept her legs waxed and tan—suffering any beauty torture necessary to avoid wearing panty hose. He plucked at her panties and she wiggled those off, too. Next, he made short work of the bra and blouse.

Side-by-side, naked and wrapped in the warmth created by their closeness, they looked at each other. Steven always made her shiver and tremble, sigh and moan. He made her want things she’d never wanted … like permanency. Marriage, children, and house with a garden—these dreams filled her head at all hours these days. What would her lover do or say if she admitted that she had feelings for him? That she might… damn, damn, damn… that she might love him?

Steven’s fingers drifted across her arm, down her side, to her hip. “Your skin is so soft.” He stroked her buttock, cupping it and kneading it. Then his hand moved leisurely to her thigh. “You smell good, too. “

“Less talk, more sex,” she said, stretching against him.

He grinned, shucking his jeans and boxers before sliding on top of her. His hardening cock nestled against her wet heat. He kissed her shoulder, nipping it before tasting her collarbone. Then he moved up her neck, and peppered kisses along her jaw. His eyes were glazed with desire, his breath harsh against her lips.

“I’ve never wanted any man like I want you,” she said, as her heart pounded and heat weaved from breasts to belly to thighs.

“That’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Her hands stroked the firm muscles of his back then cupped his fine ass. “I was thinking earlier about how addicted I am to you.”

Steven stretched her arms above her head. She rubbed her nipples against his lightly furred chest, enjoying the rough tingles that carried frantic heat all the way to her feminine core.
He’s so luscious.
She loved the feel of his hard body against hers and reveled in his lovemaking. He always made her feel special as he discovered what turned her on. He had a helluva memory, too, always knew where to touch, where to tease.

He knelt and leaned forward, taking the silk strands draping the elaborate metal headboard and wrapping them around her wrists. When he finished binding her, she tested the silk. Her arms had some movement, and she knew Steven would release her if asked, but she still felt bound and vulnerable. Her gaze found his and he smiled. Lowering himself onto her body until his mouth hovered above hers, he whispered, “Let me pleasure you.”

He kissed her, a slow melding of the lips that made her breath hitch and heart pound. His tongue slipped into her mouth and danced with hers. He tasted like mints and like lust. She felt his cock jerk against her clit and knew he wanted to take her right now. And she, too, wanted to connect with him in the most primal way.

Her breasts ached for his mouth, and her wet with need. Then Steven cupped her breasts, and she sighed with relieved desire. He pinched the nipples. Pain and pleasure intertwined, zipping like lightning through her. Her arms felt tingly, but there was something sexy about being unable to touch him, about having her body vulnerable to his whims.

When his mouth surrounded her nipple and his tongue flicked the peak, she cried out. Pleasure jolted through her, spearing her at the core. He laved her nipple, suckling one while his hand tormented the other. Then he switched mouth and hand and she went up in flames. She pushed against his cock, wrapping her legs around his buttocks as she rubbed against his hardness.

He crawled down her, kissing and licking his way to her feminine core. Her clit felt swollen, tingling with the need to be touched, to be
sucked
. But his tongue skittered oh-so-slowly to her thigh. Pushing apart her legs, he kissed her most intimate place, his tongue parting the folds to taste her. Oh, finally. Finally!

Joy pierced her, trembling, raw tendrils that demanded more from this man who showed her such tenderness. She tugged at the silk holding her hostage and bucked her hips, wanting his mouth fully on her. His tongue flicked her clit, teasing the hard nub, before sliding down and licking her some more.

“Please, taste me,” she begged. “I need your mouth.”

His tongue parted her slit, licked the juice pearling there, then—
yeah, baby
—his mouth settled on her clit and sucked it, hard. The orgasm swelled, waves of pleasure threatening, but he kept her from the edge.

Instead, he rose above her, pushing her legs up and forward until her heels rested on his shoulders. She panted and squirmed, pulling on the bonds around her wrists. Steven lifted her hips and slid his thick, hard cock into her wet heat.
Oh. My. God.
His enormous cock impaled her, stretching her and filling her.

His tiger eyes captured hers. She saw lust in that golden gaze, and lurking there, too, was a more tender emotion. Before she could hope to name it, Steven closed his eyes, groaning. His hands grew sweaty on her thighs as he held onto her legs and pumped into her again and again. The rocking of their bodies singed her to the core. Steven’s eyes flickered open; his gaze was relentless. Demanding. Desperate. She felt as ravaged by his stare as she did by his body.

“Say you love me.”

“What?” Even though Eve had considered the possibility that she was in love with him, she hadn’t been ready to voice the emotion. Steven had shown her affection, showered her with gifts, and never asked for a single thing in return. But was that love? Or just kindness?