The Zillionaire Vampire Cowboy's Secret Werewolf Babies - Chapter 8

Rock Fangsworthy was a man of action—gruff, manly actions like boldly striding across rooms and menacingly narrowing his slate-blue eyes. So when he needed to work something out, such as why he couldn’t forget the hurt look in Buffi’s bluebonnet orbs no matter how hard he clenched his jaw—or other stuff like how much his dentist scolded him about that habit—he liked to do it during a long, hard, sweaty ride.

Chastity would probably volunteer, but right now he’d rather lick tar.

Chastity just wasn’t doing it for him anymore, not since Buffi van Pelt had walked back into his life. Which was exactly what he had to figure out.

What he really needed was to thunder dramatically across his fields on the back of his horse, Monk.

He dug his diamond tipped spurs into Monk’s side. The horse yelped and refused to budge. Rock sighed. Ever since the gelding, Monk had been impossible to live with. Maybe a little sweet talk would work. He ran his palm along the animal’s neck and searched for the right words. “It’s just you and me, Monk. And a bag of sugar makes three. Now how about a gallop so I can get this dagblasted woman out of my mind?”

Monk’s sudden burst of speed nearly sent Rock tumbling backwards into the tumbleweed. The two of them flew across the countryside like a Texas brushfire. Finally, he could think. What was it about Buffi van Pelt? How had he let a shapeshifting Barbie doll get under his cold dead skin? Why couldn’t he just be happy with the Barbie doll waiting at his ranch, the one who didn’t turn into a hairy beast and gnaw on bloody hunks of meat?

Feeling faint at the thought of blood, he gripped his powerful thighs tighter around Monk’s flanks. The horse whimpered, but Rock figured there was a good chance it was from pleasure. He threaded his fingers through Monk’s flowing mane. With the wind on his face, Rock barely noticed the cattle stampeding out of their way or the shouts from Remington-brandishing farmers, or the surprised peep of a baby thrush suddenly without a nest. With horse and vampire moving as one, peace finally descended on the non-existent soul of Rock Fangsworthy.

He knew what he had to do.

*****

In the deserted lounge of the Bloodsuck B&B, Chastity snuggled in the warm, cozy lap of Billy Bob Bobson while he poked at keys on the inn’s computer. She could get used to this, the way she could get used to a featherbed she could wrap around her little finger.

Or whatever.

She leaned over to click a random key on the computer and rubbed her triple D’s against his arm.

“Oh, baby,” Billy Bob groaned. “You’re so hot, you blow my top.”

“You have such a way with words, BB, that turns me on.” She wriggled her white-denim covered hip against his turgid love rod and tickled his ear with her tongue. “You’re like some kind of poet.”

“Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby baby baby…” He moaned.

Okay, maybe it rhymed, but would it kill him to throw in some more “hots” and maybe a “sexy” or a “fucking gorgeous?” She leaned in and tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth.

His eyes bugged open and his face turned pink. The color of manly lust.

She sighed blissfully. There was nothing in the world like having power over a male. When you had a man, even a pathetic one like Billy Bob, under your thumb, you could make him do whatever you wanted. Hand over his gold watch? Coming right up. Kill Buffi van Pelt? Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy.

“Now,” she breathed, sliding her tongue along his upper lip. “Enough boring research, don’t you think?”

“Eee…” He squeaked. He probably wanted to say something stupid like he was just getting started when she’d punched the wrong key and turned the computer off, but she bit his lip before he could finish. Then she ran her tongue down his cheek to the tip of his jawbone. This was a special sex trick she’d learned in middle school.

She nipped at the tender spot at the back of his jaw, right at the juncture of his neck, the same spot that made most men quiver and beg to give her more diamonds. But Billy Bob Bobson had a very strange reaction.

He screamed and dumped her onto the floor, which was covered by a crocheted rug that didn’t cushion her ass at all.

Not only that, he held a wooden stick in front of him. It looked like a cross, but it was shaking so much it might be an X.

“Is that a cross? Because if it is, I’m already saved,” she said crossly, wincing at the brand new bruise on her perfect rear end.

“Stay back. You’re one of them, aren’t you? You lured me in here with your gigantic boobs and your short shorts…”

She smiled. Finally some more poetry out of Billy Bob. “Why, thank you.”

“It was all part of a diabolical plot, wasn’t it?”

Now he’d lost her. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, show ‘em to me.” He bared his teeth, one of which had a gold filling. Was that supposed to be sexy? Well, maybe it kinda was. Gold always turned her on.

“Rawr,” she purred, arching her back and curling her legs under her like Marilyn Monroe.

“Do it.” He clicked his teeth together as if that was supposed to mean something to her. “Whip ‘em out. Give me an eyeful of those puppies. Make me cry like a baby. Scare me. Make me beg for mercy.”

Okay, this dude was seriously twisted. Just the way she liked them. Whip ‘em out? Consider it done. She brought her hands to the bottom of her T-shirt. Man, was it tight. She wiggled her torso to inch the shirt over her enormous bazongas. Damn doctors hadn’t warned her about this. Sucking in her tummy, she yanked hard.

“Ow!” Her boobs popped free, but now her T-shirt covered her face, and her arms were all tangled up inside. She couldn’t even see Billy Bob’s drooling face. What a rip!

“What the hell is going on here?” Rock’s gravelly voice interrupted.

Oh, fudge. Chastity struggled to free herself from the clinging fabric. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The Rent-a-Burro guy said the Tastee Freeze girl said her sister-in-law saw you come in here with him. And to think I was going to give you this.”

Chastity tore her T-shirt in two and blinked at the sight before her. Rock, his jaw bulging, his vein pumping, held out one of his diamond spurs.

“I was about to propose.”

“With that?”

“It’s a diamond, isn’t it? I thought you’d appreciate my impulsive spontaneity. I guess I don’t know you at all, do I?”

She scrambled on her knees toward him. “That’s not true, you do know me, I’m not that complicated, you know me blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back, I’m easy, come on, Rock baby…”

But then Billy Bob shoved that wooden thing in her face again. “Stay back, vamp. I don’t want any funny business.”

She swatted the stick away, so it swung toward Rock. He took a step back, then another. His lip curled and two of his teeth grew into hard, white, curved…well, fangs.

Fangs?

“I have to go tend to my horse,” he said, his voice sounding kind of weak and sickly. “You both better be gone when I get back. Or else.” Ending on a quiver, he wheeled around and strode out of the room, his one remaining spur winking in the lamplight. How many carats were in those spurs, anyway?

“Okay, buster.” Chastity got to her feet, snatched the cross out of Billy Bob’s hand, and stuck her bare boobs in his face. She wasn’t worried about getting Rock back. Easy peasy. But she definitely had to get to the bottom of one thing. “Why is Rock wearing fake fangs?”

Billy Bob couldn’t tear his eyes off her boobs. “Not fake…”

He couldn’t possibly be referring to her cha-chas. “Not fake? You mean…” she gasped. “Real? Does that mean?” She gasped again, scrunching her eyebrows together to work it all out. Was the man who was so close to proposing she could practically taste the wedding cake … could he possibly be … A zillionaire cowboy vampire?

To be continued...Chapter Nine

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