The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series)

Published by Travis Luedke

Copyright 2013 by Travis Luedke

Book Cover Art by Ida Jansson,
Amygdaladesign.net

http://www.amygdaladesign.net/

FIRST EDITION

All
rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or
introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any
means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without
the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above
publisher of this book.

This
is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents
are either the product of author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  The
author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without
permission.  The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized,
associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Adult
Reading Material (17+)

Contains
scenes of graphic sex and violence

unsuitable
for underage readers

Publications
by Travis Luedke

The Nightlife Series:

I    The Nightlife:  New York

II   The Nightlife:  Las Vegas

III  The Nightlife:  Paris

IV  The Nightlife:  London

BLOOD SLAVE

V  The Nightlife:  Moscow 
2014

Young
Adult novels by TW Luedke (Travis Luedke)

the shepherd

PARENTAL GUIDANCE 
2014

Vampires Aaron and Michelle prowl
the dark, gritty, strip clubs and back alleys of London on the hunt for Michael
Jamison, the man who stole Michelle's blood and left her for dead. To assist
them, Aaron’s new master, Urvashi, calls in favors from her friends, Russian
mercenary werewolves.

Wolves Katya and Ivan, hunters adept
at killing rogue vampires, set aside their animosity for Aaron and Michelle to
stop Jamison from murdering another woman – he already has one bloodless victim
lying in the morgue.

Jamison, ex-special forces, feels
his enemies closing in, but he won’t go down without a fight – and like Aaron
and Michelle, he also has powerful friends.

Experience the violent, sensual
underbelly of Nightlife London, as Aaron and Michelle mix up a wicked blend of
sex, chaos, mayhem, and vengeance.

“Fifty quid for a blow, a hundred for a fuck, but for one-twenty
I'll take it in the bum.”  The topless dancer shimmied up onto his lap and pushed
her warm, full breasts in Aaron’s face.  He remembered reading somewhere that
British girls supposedly have larger than average breasts.  This girl lent some
credibility to the theory.

Seated near the raised platform and stripper pole in The
Rocking Horse strip club in Soho, London, Aaron was truly enjoying his
evening.  Then she got serious, planting her hot crotch on the lump in his
pants and grinding like a curved chalk atop a pool cue stick.

It had been too long since his last feeding.  Her
blood-filled flesh awoke the hunger he had denied for three nights straight.  His
mouth filled with razor-edged teeth, aching to be buried in her lush, generous
breasts.  She pressed her left breast to his lips, serving herself up, a hot ready
meal.

His tongue flickered out and pulled her nipple in between
his waiting teeth.  Her quickening pulse pounded through the warm flesh in his
mouth as her nipple grew rigid.

God, I want to bite her.  It’ll hurt for only a few
seconds
.

His teeth dug into her sensitive flesh, deep enough to draw
blood.  Luckily, her DD tits were one hundred percent real, no silicone.  Never
knew for sure without a taste test.

The strength of his grip on her ass, and the wondrous
euphoria of his venom coursing through her blood stream, prevented her from
pulling away from the sting of his needle-sharp teeth.  “Bloody hell!  That
hurts!”  She squirmed, but tugging only hurt more, and he wasn’t letting go.

Her complaints turned to moans of pleasure.  Her fingers
curled into his hair and sealed his mouth tight against her chest.  She ground
her crotch on his leg, humping and groaning through her peak.

As she quivered in orgasm on his lap, he released his bite. 
One minute precisely, not a second more.  “Shit and butter me muffin.”  She humped
on him for a few more seconds, wetting the crotch of his black wool slacks with
her juices.

Michelle slid up beside them and slipped her arms around Aaron. 
She purred into his ear.  “Information.  Remember?  We need information.”

Impatient brat
.  “It’s been
three
nights.  I
have to feed.”  Michelle let go and Aaron stood with the stripper in his arms,
his hands clamped possessively around her firm ass.

The curvy woman trapped in his arms, clad in nothing more
than fishing line panties, complained.  “I’m not a bloody steak!  You owe me twenty. 
Unless you want a suckoff?”

Aaron eyed her warily, but decided to play her game.  “Twenty? 
For five minutes?” 

She nodded with a glazed, warm smile. 

He squeezed her ass and whispered in her ear.  “I’ll make it
fifty if you answer some questions.”

“Is that all you need?”  She leaned up against him and
whispered, “Don’t know whatcha missin’.  I’ll swallow yer tackle whole.”

Michelle glanced towards the strip club security guards then
back at him, a look of warning in her eyes.  “Better be quick.  We are
gathering attention.”

“Let’s take it in the back.”  Aaron nodded towards the
hallway leading to a shadowy area with a series of curtained-off dancing rooms.

“Fifty pounds.  But no more than a few questions, maybe a suck-off. 
And no more biting!”  The stripper pointed towards the back hallway like a cop
directing traffic.

Far stronger than he looked, Aaron carried her in his arms
without so much as a grunt.  She waved the security guards off, and a couple
guys seated near the hallway hooted encouragement as Aaron walked past.  “Give
her the business!  Get your money’s worth.”

He knew the woman in his arms would gladly give him all the
business he wanted.  The scent of her arousal flooded his nostrils.  As he
flowed through her thoughts with his telepathic probe, he found her aroused and
eager.  She was one argument away from giving it up for free and offering to
let him stay in her room overnight.  Some of these London strip clubs doubled
as whore-houses.

Cock painfully hard, stripper in a G-string humping on the
crotch of his pants as he carried her into the shadowy bowels of the club, his
priorities began to shift around.

Information
. 
Concentrate on information
.

Beyond the curtain, the black lights cast an eerie pallor on
the black upholstered bench in the booth.  She tugged the fabric closed and
tied it off for the illusion of privacy.  Secure in their burgundy velvet
curtained chamber, Aaron sat down and held her spread eagle on his lap.  “Okay,
listen.  I’m looking for a man who might have been here in the past three
weeks.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t have the parts yer lookin’
for.”  She rubbed her parts on his spiked erection, hitting his point while
demonstrating hers.

“I’m not looking for your lovely parts.”  He licked a spot
of blood off her breast and suppressed the temptation to bite the other one. 
That would be dangerous.  Overfeeding led to certain … complications.  “I need
to pick your brain.”

He pulled a photo from his jacket pocket and showed her. 
“Have you seen him before?  He’s an American, goes by the name of Mike or
Michael or even Jamison.”

Three weeks they had been looking for Michael Jamison, the
man who stole Michelle’s blood and left her for dead.

Having ingested her blood, he survived a changed man, now a
vampire.

While the stripper glanced at Jamison’s photo, she ground
her wet mound back and forth over the tip of his tented crotch, an agonizing semicircular
massage.  “Nope.  Don’t know him.  Wish I could be of more help.”  She worked
herself back up to another orgasm.

He crept through her mind, adept at hiding his presence in
her thoughts.  The key to this game was asking the right questions to bring
forth the answers he needed.  Janette was her name.  Janette didn’t recognize
the photo.  The man who flashed through her mind was one of her Albanian bosses,
Reza.  He had bragged to her of a stupid Yank who recently bought an Uzi.  The
Yank’s name was Mick or perhaps Mike.

Aaron grinned as Janette worked him over.  “Ah, but you have
been helpful.”  He wondered why a man with black market dealings worthy of a
prison sentence would tell this woman his secrets.

Janette shuddered with another wet orgasm, humping through
her finish.  She smiled wide and then slid off his lap between his legs.  “Let
me serve yer right quick.  It’s only fair.”  Though he needed to know more, he
couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her when she unzipped him.  “Bollocks – I
haven't seen a prick that big in ages!”  She appreciated his size with a smile,
and then skillfully swallowed his cock whole.

Aaron threw his head back.  The girl knew her business.

Lips, tongue, hard suction, and a then a little nibbling on
the very tip of his cock – she had him going.  Stroking, pumping her hand up
and down his shaft, she sucked hard, and then went all the way to his balls,
deep throat.  In a shuddering moan, he unloaded into her hot suction.  She
earned her money, coaxing every drop she could take.

And she swallowed, a true fellatio artisan.

She wiped her mouth off with an absorbent towel conveniently
placed atop the back of the seat, and then cleaned him and zipped him up tidy. 
“There you go, pipes cleaned.”  She smiled her lips wet-swollen, and held out
her hand for her money.

With a sigh and a lazy groan, he held her gaze.  “But what
about Reza?  We need to talk about him for a minute.”

“How did you –”  She gasped and tried to stand, but he shoved
her back down to her knees, her face in his crotch.

“Wait a minute, Janette, we’re not finished.  You like your
clients to leave happy, don’t you?”

“Are you with ruddy Interpol?  How’d you know my name? 
What’d that wanker tell yer?”  Her mind exploded with possibilities, zinging
off in all directions.  She knew of Reza’s illicit dealings in drugs and guns. 
His whole family was involved, trading back and forth from Albania to all parts
of Europe and right here in London.

“Calm down, I don’t work for the police.  I just need to
know about Mike, the Yank.  I need to know everything Reza told you about the
Yank.”

“Lord, ye’ll have me killed.  You don’t wanna mess with ‘em,
not a pretty boy like you.”  A common mistake people made.  Aaron’s young, pale
skin belied a nasty truth.  Few suspected that this slim, dark-haired, mild-mannered
man disguised a lethal killer capable of slaughter.

But Aaron chose not to be defined by the monster within –
most of the time.

“I promise I will not tell a soul.  I just need to know.” 
His words sparked a repeat of the same cocaine-hazy recollection in Janette’s
mind: Reza bragging about selling an over-priced fully automatic Uzi.  Nothing
new.

Shit.  Have to talk to Reza directly.

“I told ya, it’s just Reza’s mouth flappin’.  He loves to
talk while I’m on me knees.  He took the Yank for a ride.  Charged him two
thousand smackers, triple what the gun was worth.”

The fear in her eyes reflected Janette’s grisly thoughts of
what Reza might do to her if he found out she’d spoken of him.

“I understand.”  He hugged her close.  “But you know where Reza
lives, don’t you?”

She started to shake in his arms.  “I can’t …”

“Shush.  It’s alright.  You don’t have to say it.”  She had
already said enough in her unspoken fears.  Reza was one of many bosses who
frequented her bed, part of the family that owned the club.  It was all one big
tangled mess of prostitution, drugs, and gun running.

She stood up, avoiding his eyes.  “I’ll take me pay now.”

He handed her a fifty pound note and followed her out to the
front.  Michelle approached looking hopeful.  She slid under his arm and
whispered,
“Une bonne
nouvelle?”

“Yes, I have good news.  We need to talk to Urvashi.”

Michelle squinted at him.  Though Michelle and Urvashi
weren’t trying to kill each other – yet – the ladies hadn’t meshed together well.

Aaron had once allowed himself to believe he was
untouchable, that no human could best him.  As a telepath, faster and stronger
than any man, who could possibly threaten him?  A man with a gun, that’s who. 
His overconfidence led to mayhem and chaos in Las Vegas.  His foolish pride led
to the death and mutilation of his newly wed wife, Anastasia.  And yet again,
in Paris, a man with a gun had turned his world inside out and upside down. 

Michelle was lucky to be standing.  She should have died. 
She had died.

Mistakes.  Aaron had made a lot of mistakes in the short
time he’d been a vampire.  But biting Urvashi, a fallen angel, was perhaps the
most ridiculous thing he’d ever done.

The full consequences were still unfolding, and Michelle had
grown increasingly agitated over the situation.

“We don’t need
her
for anything.” she spat venomously.
 She hated the fact that Aaron had to answer to Urvashi.

His eyes slanted to the shadows.  Two Albanian thugs were
watching them.  Definitely time to go.  Aaron ushered Michelle out the door.

“Look, this is another one of those Vegas situations.  It’s
messy, complicated.”  He wished he still had his intimate psychic bond to
Michelle.  It would simplify the complexities of this moment.  Sadly, that link
had been broken in Paris.  “We need Urvashi’s connections here.  But, the good
news is, we have our first lead.”

* * * *