Blood Lines 5: Bitter Love

Mechele Armstrong

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Amaretto is out for a night on the town, a little dinner, a little dancing, maybe a little getting lucky...until he gets a stake in the back. Good thing he really is a vampire. After getting knocked out by his prey, the would-b...
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Amaretto is out for a night on the town, a little dinner, a little dancing, maybe a little getting lucky...until he gets a stake in the back. Good thing he really is a vampire.

After getting knocked out by his prey, the would-be vampire hunter, Leif comes to...tied up and at the sexy vampire's mercy. His wannabe slayer days are over. Now he's got no choice but to team up with Amaretto and catch the rogue vampire terrorizing his city.

Soon, their nights are spent pursuing the killer and building sexual tension between them. Leif can't be attracted to a vampire, can he?

The sex is hot and there's definitely something there, but Amaretto's not into forevers. Still, he's never been so tempted to try something long term as he is with Leif. When Leif takes off and gets himself into trouble with the killer, who's all too human, it's up to Amaretto to figure out how to save him and whether he can find a love that's never bitter, only sweet.

  • Note:This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices, strong violence.
Bodies undulated in front of Amaretto to the loud pumping music. Tightly clothed. Sweaty. Male. Some muscular. Some not so much. Each dancing to find their own pick-me-up, be it drugs, another man, or something even kinkier.

Amaretto had been in the horde with them until a few minutes ago.

He settled into a chair, holding onto his drink with one hand. He lifted the glass and slammed back a gulp. The bass of the music echoed in his chest like a drumbeat. The echo had been harder on the dance floor.

Bodies had pressed against him, trying to get his attention. Hands had reached for him, trying to cop a feel.

He clutched the glass tightly in his hand.

Blood lust coursed through him.

Yes, that was the reason he’d come here. To sate one lust over another.

He could hear the blood pumping with vigor through the bodies around him. Most of the men surrounding him were young. As they moved in time with the music, the pumping sounds sped up. The staccato rhythms of their hearts reached a deafening roar.

He closed his eyes, listening to the beating of the music and the blood.

The sounds rushed like a river around him, grabbing him and taking him along their rapid movements.

His nose twitched with the scents. Sweat, cologne, and jism all mingled together to create a plethora of smells.

Someone needed to learn what deodorant was. Possibly even soap. And someone else needed to lay off the cologne. They didn’t need to bathe in the whole bottle.

He opened his eyes and scanned the crowd.


Who would satisfy the hunger crawling around inside of him?

The insatiable thirst that no mere alcohol could sate.

A man answered the question for him by walking up to Amaretto and standing in front of him. Putting his tight leather-bound crotch directly in Amaretto’s line of sight. He’d been one of the gropers who Amaretto had noticed, and thankfully wore deodorant but not too much cologne.

Amaretto discreetly sniffed to get more of a report. The man knew what a bar of soap was. That was promising.

He wasn’t unpleasant to the eyes. Soft body but not flabby. Probably because of the circuits he swung in. They could be unforgiving. Short dark hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. Yes, not disagreeable at all.

“You come here often?” The man swished his hips. He had a slight drawl.

Old line. The voice sounded melodious, though. Amaretto listened. Blood pumped along healthily. The heart on this one pumped strongly. He circulated well. Percolated the life-giving blood throughout his body with gusto.

Mouthwatering blood.

The liquid that would appease Amaretto’s needs.

His hunger surged through him. “Only occasionally.” Since he’d been in this faceless city, he’d been there every Saturday. Sometimes Sundays. If not this bar, another one. They all looked about the same. He didn’t even know their names any more, just like the cities he’d been in lately. Like the lovers he’d taken to bed. The meals he’d taken. All left him without a face or imprinting a memory.

“I’m Bud.”

Amaretto arched a brow. Bud? Not exactly the most complimentary name. Not that he had room to judge. “I’m Amaretto.”

The man’s lips crept down in a puzzled frown. “Like the coffee?”

Amaretto nodded. Waited for the usual.

“Well, doesn’t that name suit you?” The man’s voice dipped into a honeyed, practiced bass. “To a T. With that skin.”

There it was. With overdone charm. Bud wasn’t a keeper, but he’d do for a night. “Yeah, it suits me all right. Little bitter love.” Not the exact meaning, but it worked for him. Amaretto looked away at the crowds. Did his tone sound bitter, like his name? He couldn’t stop it from creeping in whenever talk of his name came up. It reminded him of too much that should stay long buried.

As if worried he would lose his catch, Bud tapped him on the arm with warm fingers. Yes, he had good blood flow. “Little bitter love?”

“Never mind.” Amaretto shrugged to his feet. “Want to dance?” He wanted to do more than dance. His mouth dripped with his hunger. But to secure a meal took finesse.


Bud shadowed him to the floor and danced up to him with flair in his moves that Amaretto hadn’t anticipated. He had grace and enthusiasm.

Amaretto swiveled his hips against Bud, grinding against him, cozying up to him. The lure of blood called him, especially from this proximity. He enjoyed the feel of the man against him, too. The deliberate stroking of Bud’s hard cock against him made his desire stir up a swirl of emotion.

Maybe two hungers could be sated tonight.

Bud hadn’t seemed to speak to his lust at first, but the way he moved, the way his lips glistened with ruby redness, maybe there was some potential. The way he danced… Not that it ever took much to call up a man’s lust.

Bud turned to him and planted his mouth on Amaretto’s. The kiss slid against his mouth like a sensual caress. He canted his mouth against Amaretto’s, giving no quarter, sliding his tongue slowly into his mouth.

Yes, maybe this man could ease all his wants tonight.

Amaretto wanted to nip his tongue. Get a taste of first blood. Patience.

There would be time. There would be a place.

Probably in the man’s car. As Amaretto pumped into him from behind. He could feed at his leisure with no one around.

He cleared his throat. “I’m into kink. Are you?” Most didn’t advertise so graphically their wants. But Amaretto didn’t have time to couch things in euphemisms. Some didn’t appreciate his honesty or his tastes. And that was fine. He gave them a choice up front to walk away.

The man arched a brow. “Are you kidding? All kinds.”

“Biting? The receiving end.”

The man’s grin chilled even Amaretto. “Long as I get off I don’t care what you do to me.”

Copyright © Mechele Armstrong


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