Mia's Return Read online

  Copyright © Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Smashwords Edition

  About Mia’s Return

  Alex has a past he’d rather no one learns about…until Mia returns.

  Ten years ago Alexander hungered for Mia Menendez and for a single day they had indulged that passion before tragedy struck. Now Mia is back, but she thinks Alexander died ten years ago, and no man has been able to stir her heart since. The truth could kill her.

  Wyatt Whitacker, demon hunter, hates Alexander and all his kind. But one look at Mia and her pulse-stopping curves and his scarred, angry heart begins to melt and his body to rouse in ways he’s long forgotten.

  The bonding has begun...

  Warning: This story features two super hot alpha heroes, multiple sex scenes, including anal sex, MM sexual play, and MMF sex. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you.

  No non-humans were harmed except for large numbers of Grimoré, who died with satisfactory squeals…

  Mia’s Return is the second book in the Destiny’s Trinities series:

  Book 1: Beth’s Acceptance

  Book 2: Mia’s Return

  Book 3: Sera’s Gift (to be released October 18, 2013)

  Praise for Mia’s Return

  2010 CAPA Finalist, Best Erotic Paranormal Romance

  It was the bonding of the males that intrigued me the most. I must say this was a nicely rounded tale full of some very steamy lovemaking (notice I didn’t label it sex?). Alternative Read.com

  Steamy is not enough to describe this book, the words burn your eyes. Enjoyed this one and can’t wait to read what happens in book 3 The Geeky Bookworm

  Once again [she] takes her readers on an adventure to a mystified world filled with paranormal evil and danger that is absolutely riveting. The reader is treated to some of the most arousing and sensual sex scenes they’ll ever read. The Romance Studio

  Chapter One

  Alexander stretched back in his chair and glanced at the clock on the monitor. Four p.m. The work day was nearly over. He pushed back from the desk and looked out at the snow batting against his office window. It was already dark and Rockefeller Plaza looked frosty and uninviting, far below. Fifth Avenue, despite the cold, was clogged with traffic. Friday afternoon…everyone was trying to get home.

  Ten years ago, he would have gagged at the sight of such respectability and normality. He had lived life on the edge, where he’d found the rush he’d needed. It was ironic that he had to become a vampire to turn into a respectable businessman.

  Today, unlike most days, he’d been unable to settle to the work. Something was prodding him and his mind kept drifting back to his turning. Then there was the dream. Well, not exactly a dream, as vampires didn’t sleep.

  Alexander rested his head against the back of the chair. What did one call a recurring series of images that kept replaying in one’s mind and while they played out, one was incapable of speaking and barely able to move? The compulsion of the images was like a waking dream, or memories of events that he had never actually experienced.

  Each time, the sequence was almost the same. It began with his name being whispered.

  Alexander.

  The voice was strange to him. Neither friend nor foe. It was so low he could not tell if it was male or female. It was as soft as a caress.

  The first time he’d heard it, the voice had merely made him look around and wonder who was calling him. Each time after that, now that he knew what to expect, the simple whisper was enough to make his entire body clench with instant hard arousal and his cock to leap to almost painful attention.

  With it came a scent that he remembered; the dry, hot sandy fragrance of the sun-bleached country surrounding San Diego.

  It made him remember what it was like to be human.

  Then the images would begin to play in his head.

  He was on his knees, his arms stretched out at shoulder height and secured in a way he could not see. In his lifetime that had only happened once—the night he had died, just before Zachariah had found him and made him a vampire. Those moments had been ones of remorse and fear. But in this dream, the position was one of submission and deep arousal, for there was a woman before him and he was naked, vulnerable and completely at her mercy.

  In the way of dreams, he could not properly see her face. Her dark hair kept falling over it or she kept it turned from him. Or he simply could not see.

  She stood before him, clothed in black, her hands in his hair, tilting his head up to study him. He could feel her approval although she spoke no words.

  Then he felt the second presence. Undeniably male. Warm, heated. Inches from him, pressing up behind him.

  Alexander groaned and began to tremble in anticipation. He was helplessly bound, theirs to deal with as they wished. His cock pulsed at the idea of being taken in as many ways as they might manage between them, this anonymous pair, for he could feel the female’s wish that he submit to exactly that.

  The male’s hands gripped his hips and the hot body pressed into him from behind. Alexander could feel the man’s thick cock nestle into the crevice of his ass and his heart leapt, for the shaft and head was already slick with lubricant. The man’s strong hands were separating Alexander’s ass cheeks, seeking entry. More hot lubricant was spread around his anus and pushed inside.

  The woman’s lips seared a hot imprint on his chest, distracting him. Alexander gasped as her tongue rasped over his stretched muscles and flesh, then felt the first probe of the man’s cock against his ass.

  The woman’s hands on his shoulders brought him forward just a little, all that the bindings on his wrists would allow. It was enough to ease entry and Alexander moaned as the man’s cock pushed into him. His heart was thundering and his cock was ready to explode.

  He was lifted back to his knees again, his back resting against the man’s chest. Alexander drew in a deep breath, trying to ride his excitement, to make it last.

  The woman approved silently. She got to her knees in front of him, wordlessly admiring his body and that of the man behind him, her chin down, her hair curtaining her face. She reached for the man’s hand on Alexander’s hip and brought it further forward, coaxing.

  The hot hand curled around Alexander’s aching cock and began to stroke.

  Alexander cried out, almost coming at the first electrifying touch. He could feel himself clenching around the cock in his ass and just managed to barely ride out the explosion of pleasure, panting.

  “Three it is, then,” came the whisper in his mind.

  The woman leaned down low and took the man’s hand away. Alexander bit back a protest, his hands curling into fists and the bindings biting into his wrists, until her mouth enveloped the head of his cock and her hot, wet lips slid down his shaft.

  The man’s hand dropped to cup and massage his balls.

  Alexander tried to buck as pleasure erupted in him but the man’s arm wrapped around his chest like an iron band, holding him still while they tended to his needs. The woman’s mouth milked him, sliding up and down his shaft, the lips bumping over the head with teasing flutters of her tongue at the seam beneath. He wasn’t going to last. He could feel his cum swirling at the base of his balls, where the man was stroking. It was going to explode with all the fury and noise of an express train from a tunnel.

  In the dream he could feel a shout—almost a scream—tearing at the back of his throat as his climax hit him. His cum was a hot stream.

  But even as he came, the dream wavered and began to dissipate. In the dream, he was bound and could not hold on to them. He cried out, “No, stay!” but it was useless.

  The first time the waking dream caught him, Alexander had been sitting reading a perfectly normal novel in the apartmen
t he and Diego shared. He emerged from the dream with a chilled body, to discover he’d come in real life too. He’d showered and washed away the evidence and tried not to linger over such a vivid daytime fantasy.

  The second time had been here in the office. He knew then he wasn’t dealing with a simple fantasy and lack of a sex life. But he wasn’t ready to speak to Diego and Zachariah, the two vampires he went to for advice. This was too weird even for the strange times they found themselves in.

  The latest event was just now.

  The back of his head throbbed. Alexander rubbed at his scalp and halted, feeling chilled, as the tips of his fingers tripped over tiny ridges and whorls. He’d never felt them before but he knew what they were.

  It was a scar from a bullet wound to the back of his head. A scar that would have formed if he’d survived the shot as a human, instead of becoming a vampire.

  He put his hand back on the desk and saw that it was not quite steady.

  When Zachariah, Seaveth and Lindál had melded to form the first trinity as a defense against the Grimoré, Zach’s scar that had killed him as a human had reappeared.

  Did that mean that he, Alexander, was about to be chosen for the second trinity? Was the first stage of bonding already underway? Was that what these dreams were all about?

  Perhaps that was why he could not see the faces. He had not met the other two destined to be in the trinity yet.

  Alexander told himself to relax and not jump to conclusions. He was not worthy to be chosen for the second trinity. Not with his past. The ancient forces that decided these things chose genuine heroes like Zachariah, who died protecting innocents, and Lindál, who gave up his entire race and inheritance in order to be with the ones he loved.

  His office door pushed open and Diego Savage kept it propped open with one arm and nodded his head down the corridor. “I just saw the new receptionist. Kasey. Cassie. Chrissie. Momma mia.” He grinned and threw himself into the interview chair on the other side of Alexander’s desk. Diego was blessed with abundant Latino good looks that he used mercilessly on humans and vampires without qualms. “I might just have to ask that one out.”

  “Christina.” Alexander logged off his computer, striving to look casual. Normal. “She’s human, Diego. Zachariah thought it would be better to have the real thing manning the reception area. She has no idea what we’re running here, so try to keep your incisors sheathed, hmmm?”

  Diego ran his tongue over his teeth. “A tumble won’t hurt. She’s pretty.”

  Alexander shook his head. “Don’t you have any scruples left?” It was a wasted question. There were only two things in life Diego cared about. Sex and hunting. All else was irrelevant.

  “I must have dropped them somewhere,” Diego said, swinging his leg over the arm of the chair, completely unmoved.

  Zachariah stepped into the office. “There you are.” He carried a McDonald’s sack. He sat in the other visitor’s chair and yanked at his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. “Diego, are you ever going to act like you’re taking this seriously?”

  Diego was wearing black. Black pants, black sweater, black boots. “I can’t fight vampeen wearing a three piece suit,” he growled. “Want me to hit them with my briefcase?”

  Zack shut the door with his heel and dug into the McDonald’s bag.

  Alexander reached into his outbox and dumped the week’s summary folder in front of Diego. “Take that seriously, then. We found jobs for forty-three vampires this week and America’s in a recession. That’s jobs, identities, lives. Meaning.”

  Diego snorted.

  “We also found jobs for twenty-two humans,” Alexander added. “Which is surreal but just means we’re growing roots and networking our way into the human world, which is exactly what Seaveth wanted.”

  Diego rolled his eyes. “Next time I’m faced with a pack of drooling vampeen I’ll flash them my Sears credit card. That’ll scare ’em.”

  “As for that…” Alexander triggered the quick release on the sleeve sheath of his knife and caught it as it sprang from the sleeve, nicked a lock of Diego’s hair and handed it to him, all before Diego got his hand up to block Alexander’s arm. “There are other weapons besides briefcases. It’s carbon fiber, compressed to hold an edge and won’t show up in the security scans in the foyer downstairs.”

  “Wow,” Diego breathed, sitting up, clearly impressed. “Show me the sheath.”

  Zack took a huge bite of the hamburger and chewed. Both Alexander and Diego turned to watch him eat with profound interest.

  He swallowed. “Sorry,” he said. “But…”

  “Do you remember what they taste like?” Diego asked Alexander.

  “Yes.” Alexander sighed.

  “They look so good,” Diego murmured.

  Zack grimaced. “Since the change, I can’t feed anymore. I have to get the calories from somewhere. We finally figured out that food is what I need.”

  “You can eat anything?” Alexander asked enviously.

  “Pretty much,” Zack confessed. “Except the elven crap Lindál tries to make.”

  “And you have to…eliminate it too?” Alexander said delicately.

  Zack grinned. “Yeah. What goes in, comes out.”

  “But you’re still a vampire?” Diego said flatly.

  “Yes.” Zack opened his mouth and his incisors descended. “I heal, my reaction times are faster than ever. I’m stronger than either of you since Lindál, Seaveth and I formed the trinity. I can create another vampire, if I have to.”

  Zachariah had been reluctant to make Alexander ten years ago. Since then, Zachariah and Diego had taken him under their wing. In their eyes, he was still in training. A decade was barely enough time to remove the diapers.

  Zachariah’s inclusion in the trinity against the Grimoré—the first of the trinities, if Seaveth was to be believed—had made Diego angrier than usual, so this was the first time Zack had given them a glimpse of some of the more private aspects of that very odd arrangement between him, a human and an elf.

  Diego crossed his arms, his leg swinging again. “You might be stronger, Zachariah but you’re certainly not any smarter. Hooking up with that elvish mutation? What exactly is it you do at night, anyway?”

  “Shut up, Diego,” Alex told him. “You don’t know anything about it.”

  Zack kept on eating, clearly starving. He knew Diego’s history better than Alexander and didn’t rise to the bait.

  The phone on Alexander’s desk beeped. “It’s your line, Zack,” Alexander said. “Lindál’s cell phone.”

  Zack waved. “You get it,” he said around a mouthful of hamburger.

  “It’s Alexander, Lindál,” he said into the phone. “Zack’s…eating.” Even saying it felt strange.

  “I’m cornered in an alley on Cherry Street, by Rutgers Street,” Lindál said sharply. “About thirty of them. This is new, this time of day. Come fast.” Then nothing.

  Alexander hung up. “Vampeen. Thirty, on Cherry Street, by Rutgers.”

  Zack swept the food into the bag and stood up. So did Diego.

  “You don’t have to come,” Zack said to Diego. “The mutant and I can handle it.”

  Diego shrugged. “I need some entertainment.”

  Zack looked at Alexander.

  “I’d go with you if you needed me but thirty seems manageable if both you and Lindál are there…and I have a date.” Alexander hid his smile.

  “You son of a dog,” Diego said. “Who?”

  “Christine.”

  “Fuck,” Diego swore. “Who’s lost their scruples now?”

  “I’m just welcoming her to the company, Diego. Back down.”

  Diego’s black eyes looked thundery. “One day, my friend, you will fall from your pedestal and I hope I’m around to see it.”

  “I fell off that pedestal ten years ago, Diego. Zachariah saved my ass and gave me a second chance. I have no intention of blowing it. Go haul Lindál’s ashes out of the fire instead of giving me grie
f. I’ve got things to do.”

  Zachariah smiled as he held the door open for Diego. “You’re learning, kid,” he told Alexander. Then he was gone.

  Alexander found he was smiling as he reloaded his knife and headed out the door. He bade Christine goodnight and confirmed their arrangements. She was pretty in a pink and white way but he would never let Diego know she left him completely unmoved.

  He considered running down the fire escape stairs to the foyer to avoid the congestion in the elevators. At this time of day it would take forever. The stairs wouldn’t tax him in the slightest. But it might draw attention to him. So he patiently waited for the elevator and stepped on with a dozen others and moved to the side to give them room.

  The elevator stopped on the next floor, with more people getting on but by then his animal instinct was crowding him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He was being watched. His heart thundered.

  He made no sudden moves. Instead, as people pushed onto the elevator, he turned so his back was to the side wall of the car, giving him an excuse to look at everyone if he brought his head up.

  He lifted his head and looked around.

  She was standing on the other side of the car, almost completely obscured by the other riders because she was only just over five foot.

  Mia. Shamira Menendez of San Diego, California.

  His first aching thought was, You’re so fucking beautiful, Mia.

  Then reality caught him in the chest. Mia was staring at him because she thought he was dead. She thought he’d died ten years ago, in San Diego.

  Now she was watching him with tears in her eyes and all he could think about was his swelling cock and his exploding heart and how much he wanted to take up where he had left off…bend her over the counter, sliding his cock into her pussy and making her scream his name.

  “Are you all right, sir?”

  He tore his gaze away from Mia. “Excuse me?” he said hoarsely. He looked down at the gray-haired lady next to him.