At Midnight

Billy London

www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

Billy London Copyright © 2011 by Billy London All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. Published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC PO Box 61 Colfax, NC 27235 www.beautifultroublepublishing.com Cover Art: Marteeka Karland http://www.marteekakarland.com/ Editor: Stephanie Parent Proofreader: Novellette Whyte http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/ Formatter: Savannah J. Frierson, http://sjfbooks.com/editing/ ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-176-3

For Jeanie and Jayha. You are both inspired and inspiring.

Note about eBooks eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

Caveat This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

Before Christmas was hijacked by the Romans in the name of Christianity, vampires had already claimed the twenty-fifth day of December as their own, as a vital, sacrificial ceremony for all vampires who came of age. The irony of the day becoming known by humans as an occasion to exchange gifts was not lost on vampires. Oliver really wished he’d been told that a lot goddamn earlier. “You’ve got till midnight,” his father warned him. “No feeding the week leading up to the twentyfifth.” On the stroke of midnight, just as Eve became Day, Oliver would need the blood of a mate on his tongue or risk sacrificing his immortality. It sucked. Literally sucked. He was a solitary person. Mateless. Utterly inconvenienced in finding someone willing to become like him, when up until recently, he really preferred his own company. His condition didn’t particularly lend itself to social situations. There was no chance he was off to the nearest chain coffee shop to pick up a woman. But here he was, at a ridiculous costume party trying to find someone who would do for now, because he had run out of options and his father had run out of patience. The theme for the party

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was Christmas movies, and so many lazy asses had turned up as Jimmy Stewart’s character from It’s A Wonderful Life in a suit and tie. His intended matefor-now was dressed as Tinker Bell. Very apt. Shallow but easy. A small thing dressed as a pig nudged his side. “Easy there!” It was Tamsin. She was insanely sweet. How could she not be—she had freckles on her nose! They were dark spots amidst smooth chocolate skin. She’d organised this party and let him know he was more than welcome to come along. He’d met her three months ago at an underground gig for Massive Attack and hadn’t wanted to let her out of his sight since that moment. If only, he’d thought, repeatedly. But he wouldn’t dare take such a girl from her family. Never at this time of year. They’d be devastated, and the little humanity Oliver had left would be extinguished. Tinker Bell had no ties, no family, and would be the type of vampire who would easily find distractions for the rest of her existence, or until she got herself staked. He felt the pull at his heart, the aorta squeezing whenever he saw Tamsin. But she was human. There was such life in her. Finding a true mate was the same sensation as a heart attack. It was terrifying, but the

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organ needed to adjust to being controlled by another. Tamsin had no idea of the power she had over him. “You know Phantom of the Opera isn’t a Christmas movie,” Tamsin scolded, lifting the pig snout from her face to the top of her head. “Neither’s Babe.” “Hey, it’s all good family fun, and that is the sum of Christmas. Well, that and eggnog. I wish I could get more of that over here—I’m obsessed!” He breathed out slowly, thinking that he didn’t necessarily want to live forever with someone vapid and pointless for the sake of honouring tradition. It wouldn’t be that bad to get to know Tamsin and age disgracefully with her instead. Sometimes he caught a glint in her eye that belied the good girl image everyone believed her to be. There was danger in her. In another life, he’d have dedicated everything to bringing that to the surface. “Are you okay, Ollie?” Her eyebrows snapped together, concern in the very depths of her liquid brown eyes. At that very moment, he changed his mind. He wasn’t going to commit himself to someone, only to live forever in misery. Whatever life he had left, he’d spend it convincing Tamsin that he was right for her. “Not really,” he admitted. “But you’re smiling, so it can’t be that bad.”

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She blushed. “What are you talking about?” He caught her cheek with his palm, stroking a thumb over velvet-soft skin. “I want you to be with me.” She took an awkward stumble backwards, eyes round with shock. A Jimmy Stewart fell over, glass breaking in his hand. The sight and smell of rich if not alcohol-laced blood tore his fangs from his gums, hunger making him lose control, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. His eyes went to Tamsin, who would be the type of person to help, but she had the same expression of shock and hunger on her face, a hand over her lips. Realisation froze him to the marrow. Vampire. She’s like me! “Sorry,” she mumbled, stumbling away from him as others bent down to help the Jimmy Stewart. Oliver followed her little pigtail to the balcony of the ballroom. Vampire-human hybrids were rare, but like any creature, they had evolved to protect themselves. Unless the hybrid showed itself, another vampire would never be able to scent it as one would a full vampire. “Tam,” he said softly. She had her back to him. “No, don’t look at me, or I’ll do something I’ll regret.”

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His surprise made him laugh, fangs and all. “Tam, turn around.” She did as he asked, her eyes a burning orange colour as she tried to glamour him into believing he’d imagined her fangs. “Tam, that’s not going to work on me.” He bared his teeth and she gave a little jump. “Oh,” she breathed in understanding. “You’re half, like me, so I couldn’t scent you. But that’s amazing!” The very thought of having her forever started to cloud his mind. “Hold on a minute—you love Christmas. How can you love Christmas with those little fangs?” “Because it’s the only time my family is all in one place at the same time. Pretending to be normal and human and such.” She gazed up at him, taking the mask from his face. Even in a pig costume, she had the most beautiful skin, luminous against the pearl white of her fangs. “What do you need, Ollie?” “Just you,” he breathed, curling his arms around her and lifting her to his height. Burying his face in her neck, he could now scent her. Like warm rain on roses, she smelled absolutely delicious. His fangs almost hurt, they ached so badly with the need to taste her. “Always.” “Do you really want to stay this way with me?”

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Oliver heard the doubt in her voice and thought about the elders who controlled time. Maybe he could go back and rip apart everyone who had ever made her doubt herself. “Yes,” he said firmly, catching the shoulder of the costume and ripping it free. His body throbbed in anticipation of marking her as his own. “Just making sure,” she said quietly. “You can’t change me, but this is still forever.” “It’s just you.” “Ollie,” she sighed, and something at the back of his head warned him she was hesitant about this. No. He wouldn’t let her keep herself from him out of whatever misguided belief she had. She belonged with him. “Later.” He watched the pulse of her neck for a still moment before sinking his teeth into his future. *** Tamsin gasped at the pinch of Oliver’s teeth in her neck, crying out when he went deep. The costume had been a double-edged sword. While most people couldn’t help stroking the velour, being dressed as a pig was hardly equivalent to the sexual creature she wanted to be in front of Oliver, who was simply Brad Pitt circa Meet Joe Black.

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She knew she was playing with fire around him and making it impossible for her to find a true mate, but she’d ignored her rationalisations, all of them. And now, she couldn’t help but feel she was being rewarded with him. The pull of his lips on her neck was just like a caress across the entirety of her body, and she gave a low moan that sounded like a prelude to an orgasm. She was the perennial good girl to everyone who met her, and she was relieved to find that, rather than being shocked by her reaction to him, Oliver wanted more. A pulse beat in her body. To the same rhythm, she wrapped her legs around Oliver’s waist and rubbed herself against him. His erection pressed between her legs, and she pressed back harder. He lifted his head, eyes burnished orange, her blood staining his lips. “Do you always do that?” “What?” she moaned, mesmerised by the colour on his mouth. How would her blood taste on him? “Do this.” He echoed her movements, catching both her buttocks in his hand and stroking her over the length of his covered dick. Tamsin couldn’t breathe for a minute, let alone answer him. “If someone feeds on you?” “No.” He traced his tongue over her bites. She shuddered from the alternating heat and cold of him.

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“If you’re sure? Because it sounds like you want to be fucked.” “We’re on your timetable, Ollie,” she murmured, tilting her head back as he grazed his fangs over delicate skin. “What do you want?” “You,” he breathed, ripping the costume with one hand. “Stop that!” she protested, “I need to give this back.” “I’ll pay for it,” he promised, tilting his head to catch her in a kiss. One bite and a kiss and she was shaking like she was about to come. Thank you Massive Attack, she thought with glee. Her tongue caught the edge of one of his canines, a moan vibrating to his mouth. Though she was always wary of the damage that could be caused by her teeth, her head, her body, even her pussy throbbed with ideas of him putting his teeth anywhere and everywhere. Gently, he allowed her feet to touch the ground and he untied his cape. He paused for a moment to cup her cheek. “You know you and that little snout stopped me from making a huge mistake?” “That’s nice. Get undressed now.” He gave a chuckle, shucking off the rest of his clothes. Not wanting to delay anything else, Tamsin removed her bra and carefully stepped out of her panties. Kicking them to the side, she let her arms

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drop. Something cool trickled over her collarbone. Dark red liquid trailed from her bite to pearl at her nipple. Just as she went to swipe at it with a finger, Oliver’s head was there, taking the blood and her breast into his mouth. The graze of sharp teeth forced her back into an arch, thrusting her hips against his fully nude ones. With two fists in his hair, she pulled him away. “I want to touch you. But…” She tapped her tongue against her fangs. “They won’t go away.” He went on his knees before her and blew gently on her damp pussy, leaning forward to press a kiss to her stomach even as his fingers slid along the lips of her sex. “I’ll let you try that another time. It doesn’t matter right now. You’ve given me so much tonight.” Nothing could have prevented the sheer scream of delight she gave when his teeth grazed on either side of her pussy lips, his tongue delving in between. I’m branded, she thought, no man will ever be able to touch me again. Well, that would sort of make things easier. Slowly stretching to his full height, Oliver turned her around and pulled her back against his naked front. “Let me take you this way,” he whispered, pressing himself hard to her bottom. It was definitely a command, despite being framed as a persuasive

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suggestion. She obeyed, bracing her hands on the railing, not at all phased by the idea that anyone could look up and see her completely naked, spread and ready to take Oliver inside her. His cock nestled between her lips, nudging gently at her opening. He carefully turned her head to look at him, the irises still that violent shade of orange. “There can’t be any barriers between us.” “I know,” she whispered, pulling his arms around her before she gripped the railing. “I just didn’t think you’d want me this way.” “Oh, Tamsin.” He gave a laugh that sounded pained even to her ears. “My sweet, deluded Tamsin. Watch.” As they looked over the crowd of people below, his dick pushed deep into her. A beastly growl emerged from his throat, a sound that recalled their ancestors before they evolved. The same sound came from Tamsin as he pushed further than any man had before. She felt a trail of cream snake along her thigh, teased from her depths. Oliver smoothed his palms along her back up into her hair. “No one else will ever know you this way,” he whispered into her ear, nipping the flesh. “Just me. You think if any of them looked up and saw you right now they wouldn’t be touching themselves? Wanting to feel you, taste you, fuck you like I am?”

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Every stroke of his dick back and forth was driving her crazy, and with his words, he was weaving a spell she couldn’t break away from. Coming right to the edge of that precipice, she cried out and gripped the railing so tight, the metal gave way. A squeal escaped her throat, nearly toppling her onto the floor of the balcony, but Oliver’s strength caught them both. He pulled back with an arm about her waist and she landed on top of him with a giggle. “That would have been slightly embarrassing.” “Why? Everyone should know what you look like when you need my dick inside you.” She gave a violent shudder, turning onto her front, straddling his waist. She should have guessed he’d have the touch of a dom about him. “I’ll be wearing that expression permanently if you don’t hurry up and make me come.” “Patience.” Gripping both thighs in his hands, he rolled her onto her back and slipped back inside her. He curled one leg onto his shoulder, opening her completely to him. His dick felt relentless inside her, so demanding. She reached out for him, gripping his arms, to pull him closer. “Take me,” he growled, “all of me.” She’d never felt more like a complete woman than at that moment, her body accepting him entirely,

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obeying him completely. The build-up of her orgasm started in her chest, while the white heat at her pussy came later. Shaking with the onslaught, she slipped her leg from Oliver’s shoulder and wrapped it around his waist instead. Her eyes focused on the sweat beading at his neck; her mouth dried at the sight of the veins straining against his skin. Her sight magnified in her desire, she watched the blood cells dancing close to the surface, taunting her to taste. “Go on,” he challenged, as if sensing her gaze. She was so hungry, his dick doing nothing but stoking the need to taste him. When she struck before he could take the challenge back, blood as rich as the oldest and most expensive of wines flowed onto her tongue, bubbling through her own veins as she drank. She groaned, her hunger sated as her orgasm started to tear through her. He curved his hand around the back of her head, forcing her to release him. Then he brought her into a kiss so deep, she felt the echoes of his convulsions when he came too. They were in the taste of his tongue, the groan on his lips, the tremble in his body and in his very essence, pouring into her. He held her tightly for a long time, just sighing her name over and over again. As no sensible thought was forthcoming, Tamsin said the first thing that popped into her head. “I’m not an exhibitionist. I swear.”

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He gave her another kiss instead of replying, reaching for his cloak and tucking it underneath her head. She settled herself against him, waiting for her breathing to turn normal. But then she’d been waiting for that around Oliver since she’d met him. Now that the ability to think had been restored, certain important details started falling into place. Vampires matured in threes. Three years after a vampire was first changed or the first three decades of a born vampire’s existence. They became stronger, faster, they could manipulate their appearance. However, immortality was granted to pairs, regardless of their sexuality, a relic of their creator, the original vampire wandering the earth alone. Oliver had turned thirty two months ago. He was a single male of age on the twenty-fifth. Given the way he’d completely fucked anyone else out of her mind, she doubted he had the same contingency plan as she did. He hadn’t even known what she was and he had been willing to give up his immortality. For her. So he really needed to know. “Ollie,” she said into the sated silence. “Yes, Tam?” “I have to tell you something.” He lifted his head. “What is it?” “Don’t hate me.”

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Oliver pressed kisses all over her face. “Why would I hate you?” “Because my parents have sort of arranged for my maturity next year.” She said it all in a rush and winced, bracing herself for his fury. He blinked very slowly. “You have a mate?” “Sort of like a standby,” she explained. “Yeah. I don’t care,” he replied shortly. “But…” They heard the screech of a microphone clashing with the stereo system and the voice of the other organiser boomed across the space. “Sixty seconds to Christmas Day, folks! I don’t know where Tam has got to, but on behalf of all of us, I hope you have a fantastic Christmas!” Everyone below cheered. Tamsin looked back to Oliver. “About this standby...” He exhaled deeply. “All right. Where does he live?” Tamsin started. “What? Why do you want to know?” “Because if you carry on the way you are, I’m going to assume there’s only enough room for one of us in this life. As I don’t plan on handing you over to anyone, he’s got to go.” He manoeuvred her beneath him once more so smoothly, settling between her thighs. “You belong to me now. You chose me as much

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as I chose you.” He was hard against her, the tip of his dick pressing her open. “No more buts. We can explain the whole thing to your family. Now give yourself to me.” Oliver bit into her shoulder, bursting her veins open. With a gasp she arched into him and he surged back inside her. Too lightheaded to take much note of the bells chiming for the arrival of Christmas Day, any thoughts of just how she’d explain herself to her parents or to poor Max went completely out of her head. Right now, the whole world was simply Oliver.

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Billy London Ah, poor Billy. The only girl between two boys who each have nearly a foot on her. Didn't stop her from starting physical fights with them. She still thinks she can take them. So while she used to hide away in her wardrobe to read a book or four, she started to question why the heroines in those books would just lie there and take it. No, not just sex, but downright JamesBond-backhand-slapping, do-as-you're-told-woman, inappropriate lie there and take it. She couldn't understand it. These women were just playing that mental woman from Coming to America, Miss “Whatever You Like” who barked like a dog and hopped on one foot. Billy didn't want to do that. Definitely not because one emptyheaded fool with different anatomy told her to. So she started to create characters and worlds where the women could own their sexuality, their intelligence, their right to turn around and say “jog on, mate” without apology. The small problem was that other people wanted to read what she was had written. “Er...why?” didn't cut it as an answer. After years of prodding and pleading and come on and for goodness’ sake, what's the point otherwise, she closed her eyes and pressed “submit.” Actually, she had Prosecco, limencello and white wine, then pressed “submit.” Who would have thought people would actually enjoy reading about the crazy characters who live in her head? But they have done, and Billy feels rather proud of that connection with her fellow man. Billy lives in London with the most patient family in the world and doesn't forget for a minute how lucky she is. Well, she wouldn't mind a BBC adaptation of one of her novels... Ooh, with Richard Armitage!