Biting Serendipity: April Fools For Love (Biting Love Short Bites Book 4) Read Online Free
Author: Mary Hughes
parking lot but his gaze went inward. Phyllida Versnobt was a vibrant blonde, so full of life. Always on the go, always laughing, partying, just having a ball.
Before meeting her, he hadn’t worried about being fun. He hadn’t even known he was lonely. He’d been living as he’d done for a thousand years, casual dating, lots of sex, and, as vampires did every few centuries or so, settling down for a bit with a wife—although vampires usually could only have children with their lifetime mates.
Then he’d met Phillie. She was pretty, fun, and good in the sack, and five years ago, he’d asked her to marry him. She’d said yes.
Their first joint project, a sort of engagement test, was the April Fools contest. A mistake. He should have picked something easier, like building a garage.
She wanted to do something silly. He wanted to win.
It started with laughing disagreements and ended with hurled accusations. The last time he’d seen her, she’d thrown her hands in the air and shouted as she stalked off that he was an epic grouch (her exact words were, he ate rules and shit misery , although later, when he’d phoned to ask her for another chance, she upped it to he ate ironclad rules and shit balls and chains.) The upshot was that he wouldn’t know fun if it whacked him on the head.
The engagement was over, but she’d kept the ring.
Idiot that he was, he spent the next three years trying to win her back. Trying to prove he was Fun Thor. He entered the April Fools competition every year, but he was the April Fool, thinking he stood a chance of winning, either the contest or the woman.
Two years ago, he decided he didn’t want to win Phillie back. He’d settle for just proving her wrong. For showing he was, if not fun, then at least not the ball and chain she said.
Two years of proving just the opposite.
Nothing had changed, so why was he thinking of anchoring himself with the most sober anchor of all? He had rocks in his head.
Although at least the sex would be good.
No, from that kiss, sex wouldn’t just be good. It’d be incendiary…
He whacked his head back against the door jamb. He was an idiot, times three.
Young Jenny, just emerging from the restroom, gave him a startled look and harried off through the swinging door like a frightened doe.
He lifted his aching head. As the door oscillated shut, shouts and scuffles filtered through. Things were getting rowdy in the bar. Camille liked Sexy And Fun but wasn’t so thrilled with paying for broken glasses and spilled drinks. He’d have to go help out.
But how could he, when Sera was there?
At just the thought of her soft scent and softer breasts, his cock filled eagerly. She made his heart hurt and his body throb, which, as he adjusted his pants yet again, was frankly just as painful.
Fine. He’d have to spend the rest of the night avoiding her, if this was what she made of him. Although he didn’t know what he was going to do about Camille’s April Fools ultimatum. Forced to work with Sera, plan with her, play with her…? His whole body seized up.
Then the first of the bar patrons stumbled back into the corridor, along with the whiff of vampire—and the sound of Sera’s scream.
* * *
I got back to ferrying beer, the sting from Thor’s rejection making me work heads-down faster. The first I knew something was wrong was when Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm’s head snapped up and her eyes flared red.
Not Rebecca the delightful children’s storybook character. This Rebecca was one of three protector vampires at Nieman’s. My punk-rocker friend, Nixie, added the “of Sunnybrook Farm,” but in the tradition of Meiers Corners where coincidence was an art form, Rebecca’s blonde braids, bib overalls, and pig-ringing physique ensured she looked the part. Through overheard snatches of conversation and guesswork, my roommates and I worked out that Camille was the master, Thor her first lieutenant, and Rebecca second looey and a kickass
Before meeting her, he hadn’t worried about being fun. He hadn’t even known he was lonely. He’d been living as he’d done for a thousand years, casual dating, lots of sex, and, as vampires did every few centuries or so, settling down for a bit with a wife—although vampires usually could only have children with their lifetime mates.
Then he’d met Phillie. She was pretty, fun, and good in the sack, and five years ago, he’d asked her to marry him. She’d said yes.
Their first joint project, a sort of engagement test, was the April Fools contest. A mistake. He should have picked something easier, like building a garage.
She wanted to do something silly. He wanted to win.
It started with laughing disagreements and ended with hurled accusations. The last time he’d seen her, she’d thrown her hands in the air and shouted as she stalked off that he was an epic grouch (her exact words were, he ate rules and shit misery , although later, when he’d phoned to ask her for another chance, she upped it to he ate ironclad rules and shit balls and chains.) The upshot was that he wouldn’t know fun if it whacked him on the head.
The engagement was over, but she’d kept the ring.
Idiot that he was, he spent the next three years trying to win her back. Trying to prove he was Fun Thor. He entered the April Fools competition every year, but he was the April Fool, thinking he stood a chance of winning, either the contest or the woman.
Two years ago, he decided he didn’t want to win Phillie back. He’d settle for just proving her wrong. For showing he was, if not fun, then at least not the ball and chain she said.
Two years of proving just the opposite.
Nothing had changed, so why was he thinking of anchoring himself with the most sober anchor of all? He had rocks in his head.
Although at least the sex would be good.
No, from that kiss, sex wouldn’t just be good. It’d be incendiary…
He whacked his head back against the door jamb. He was an idiot, times three.
Young Jenny, just emerging from the restroom, gave him a startled look and harried off through the swinging door like a frightened doe.
He lifted his aching head. As the door oscillated shut, shouts and scuffles filtered through. Things were getting rowdy in the bar. Camille liked Sexy And Fun but wasn’t so thrilled with paying for broken glasses and spilled drinks. He’d have to go help out.
But how could he, when Sera was there?
At just the thought of her soft scent and softer breasts, his cock filled eagerly. She made his heart hurt and his body throb, which, as he adjusted his pants yet again, was frankly just as painful.
Fine. He’d have to spend the rest of the night avoiding her, if this was what she made of him. Although he didn’t know what he was going to do about Camille’s April Fools ultimatum. Forced to work with Sera, plan with her, play with her…? His whole body seized up.
Then the first of the bar patrons stumbled back into the corridor, along with the whiff of vampire—and the sound of Sera’s scream.
* * *
I got back to ferrying beer, the sting from Thor’s rejection making me work heads-down faster. The first I knew something was wrong was when Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm’s head snapped up and her eyes flared red.
Not Rebecca the delightful children’s storybook character. This Rebecca was one of three protector vampires at Nieman’s. My punk-rocker friend, Nixie, added the “of Sunnybrook Farm,” but in the tradition of Meiers Corners where coincidence was an art form, Rebecca’s blonde braids, bib overalls, and pig-ringing physique ensured she looked the part. Through overheard snatches of conversation and guesswork, my roommates and I worked out that Camille was the master, Thor her first lieutenant, and Rebecca second looey and a kickass
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