The Naughty Angel and Her Three Very Wise Men: A Christmas Ménage

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Authors: Trinity Blacio

Tags: #Vampires/Werewolves, #Menage a Trois/Quatre, #Shape-shifter, #Erotic Romance

BOOK: The Naughty Angel and Her Three Very Wise Men: A Christmas Ménage
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The Naughty Angel and Her Three Very Wise Men: A Christmas Ménage
A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication
by Trinity Blacio

A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication

www.ravenousromance.com

Copyright © 2010 by Trinity Blacio

Ravenous Romance™

100 Cummings Center

Suite 123A

Beverly, MA 01915

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-375-7

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Christmas
Legend

It was written long ago, in a world far away from Earth, that three wise men— dragon shifters—would be born, and their mate would be an Angel. Together these four would bring peace among the many different species that inhabit worlds far and great. Their children would be the hope for mankind and all humans throughout the universe.

But as with every legend, someone would come and try to stop this from happening. Can this Christmas Angel keep her mates’ hearts and souls close to hers to save them all?

Chapter One

Annabelle Worldly gazed around the festive café. The holidays were in full swing today, December first, and Annabelle was depressed and bored. She could smell fresh roasted turkey, chestnut stuffing, and hear the clinking of glasses all around her as other people celebrated the holidays.

But she was alone. Here it was, four weeks before Christmas, and her parents had abandoned her for a cruise. Annabelle couldn't blame them. They had been planning the trip for more than a year, thinking she and Dave would have their own Christmas. What a laugh that was—she was sure he was having a great holiday with the two bimbos in her home. And to think she'd wasted five years on that jerk. “I'm finally here,” said her best friend, Sandy. “I can't believe it took me thirty minutes to get here from Long Island.” She smiled and sat across from her at the table. “I'm sorry I'm late, Annabelle. Did you order for us?” Sandy shook her coat off, then pulled out an envelope, laying it on the table. “Yep, I ordered us the sampler. Oh, and I asked the waitress to bring us some spiked eggnog. I figured we could use it.” “Good, we can celebrate. I have a surprise for you. Call it an early Christmas present. You know our lives suck since my breakup with my boyfriend, your divorce, and both of our families are out of town for Christmas and New Year's.” The words poured out of her mouth so fast that Annabelle had to smile at her. “Like I need a reminder,” she said as the waitress brought them their eggnogs and set them down. “Well, we now have plans for the holidays!” Sandy pushed the envelope at her. “Open it. It took me two months to get this done, so there will be no backing out. You have to go.” Lifting the envelope and looking inside, Annabelle laughed and stared at the two tickets to Whiskey Island. Inside were boarding passes for the only ferry that could cross the waters in the middle of winter to the first island owned by vampires. “How did you do this? I didn't sign any papers for the visa.” She pushed the envelope towards her friend and took a sip of her eggnog, almost choking because it was so strong. Sandy laughed. “Yes, you did. You just didn't know it. I didn't want to get your hopes up until I had the tickets. You know Frank in personnel? Well, he owed me a favor and I knew he had connections, so there you go.” Sandy squealed and grabbed the tickets, hugging them to her chest. Her shoulder-length dark brown hair fell forward like a curtain. “I even have us booked at the best hotel on the island. We'll leave next week and come back on the second of January. It will be just you, Santa, and me. Do you think he'll find us?” She giggled. “Hell, maybe Santa is a vampire. I mean, how can someone stay alive so long unless vampire genes run through his veins? He only comes out at night, even though now vampires can walk in the sun—they never were able to back then.” She smirked and sipped her eggnog. “Maybe I should write a story like that for next year. Santa sinks his fangs into his unwrapped present! Ohh, I like that one. I can have her all tied up and bundled for Santa. I could even put on the tag, “I've been a bad girl. Santa, please spank me.” Annabelle wiggled her eyebrows over her brown eyes while her panties dampened at the thought of being spanked. “I bet you Santa has a twin to help him. Could you see two sexy twin vampires playing Santa?” Sandy's eyes glazed over and she sipped her eggnog. “God, it makes me hot just thinking about it, but then again, it could be this eggnog!” She fanned herself. “Oh, yeah. Gotta make them alphas, too. Into spanking and bondage.” Annabelle grabbed the menu and fanned Sandy as she burst out laughing. “You and those romance novels. Like we could ever find one alpha, let alone two, especially in this day. Men are either mama's boys or just plain jerks who can't get it up long enough to do any good, but I did find out there is a nice Dungeon on the island. Maybe we can visit it and you can get that spanking you been dying for.” She looked down into her drink and sighed. “John is taking his new girlfriend to Mexico for Christmas. He's using the tickets we purchased in September.” “Oh man, Sandy, I'm sorry.” Annabelle brushed her long dark hair out of her eyes. “If it's any consolation, I found out Dave has two girls living at our home now. I guess he's living my dream of having two men, but he has two women instead.” She reached over and grabbed Sandy's hand, squeezing it. “Hell, maybe we'll find our soul mates there. From what I hear, vampires can fuck all night long!” Annabelle pushed at Sandy's arm. “Let's not let those assholes ruin our Christmas. We're better than them anyway. I'll find that man who likes to spank and is into the BDSM scene and you'll find that man who can tie you up and have his way with you.” Sandy looked up and smiled. A single tear trickled down her cheek, the sadness out of place on her exotically beautiful face. “We're pretty pathetic, aren't we? I'm glad I have you for a friend. I don't know what I'd do without you ever since I was in kindergarten, you've been there for me when those mean girls picked on me.” She squeezed her hand and sat up. “You're right, we
are
better, and boy, am I going to search for one of those blood drinkers the first night we're there. I need a good spanking and a fuck to forget that asshole.” In the background, the song
Here Comes Santa Claus
began to fill the café. Both women burst out laughing. “Hey, it goes both ways. Now, let's change the subject, shall we? Did you hear Mr. Vecchio is leaving a week early? His mysterious brother called and he canceled all his appointments for next week.” Annabelle sipped her drink. Sandy leaned over and whispered, “Have you seen Mr. Vecchio yet? I haven't met anyone at the office who has seen him. Even at office parties, he doesn't come. I also heard through the grapevine that we're all getting a thousand-dollar Christmas bonus! I'm
so
going to pay off that hunk-of-junk car.” “Nope, haven't seen him, but I did get a phone call from him last week. God, that man has the sexiest voice I've ever heard. He had me creaming in my panties by the time I hung up.” She fidgeted in her seat, remembering his voice. “I can still hear his voice. Is it hot in here or what?” Grabbing the menu, she fanned herself. “If we get the bonus, I'm using it for a new laptop. Mine is about to give out. Plus I need a fax machine for home.” “Only you could get turned on by a voice.” Sandy shook her head. “Hey, that's not fair. I haven't had sex in six months, thank you.” Annabelle turned her head and stared at the bar where she heard a deep baritone voice order a drink. She stared at the man standing at the bar, with long black hair pulled back into a ponytail and tight-fitting jeans around his muscular legs and ass.

Annabelle grabbed Sandy's hand and squeezed it. “That's him, Sandy!” she whispered, her gaze traveling up his muscular body to land on his face. “Oh my! He's gorgeous. Look at him, Sandy.” She let go of Sandy's hand and wiped it on her skirt, since her palms were now sweaty. “I see, but come on, what are the odds he'd be in here, at the same bar? Plus, he's too young. That hunk has to be about thirty-five.”

“I tell you, that's him. I'd know his voice anywhere.” She glanced back at Sandy. “Call Alice over. She knows everyone who comes in here.” “Fine, but you're wrong.” Sandy waved Alice over to their table. “What can I get you two?” Alice asked.

“Annabelle thinks that's Mr. Vecchio over there at the bar. Do you know that guy's name?” She nodded towards the tall man with the ponytail. Alice turned and looked at the men at the bar. “You mean Mr. Green Eyes?”

“Yep, the one with the deep sexy voice. Hell, everyone has been wanting to get into his…well, you know.” Annabelle squirmed again in her seat as she imagined herself sucking his long thick cock, then gazed back at him, looking straight to his groin.
God, I wish I was ten years younger
, she thought
.
“That's him. The one and only Mr. Vecchio. He comes in here every Friday night and meets his twin.” Alice smiled at both of them and turned to leave. “His brother is the blond standing next to him,” she said over her shoulder. “I told you so. Well, what are you waiting for? Go introduce yourself. Sandy, you're his age. Here's your chance. He's wealthy, and built like a tank. Look at the way he fits in those pants. My God, I think you can see the outline of his cock.”

“You don't think I'll go over there, do you? You know he's your type. You're the one drooling over his voice. You go and introduce yourself,” Sandy dared back, and laughed. “Please, I could be his mother. Well, a very young mother, but still, look at you. Then look at me. Who do you think he'd pick? It sure wouldn't be me.” She snorted. “I hate when you do that. So you're forty-four. You're not dead. And look at you. You have a rack to die for, and God, I wish I had your ass.” She stood and threw her napkin down on the table. “Wait here.” Sandy walked right up to the bar and slid up next to Mr. Vecchio. Annabelle's palms got sweaty again, her panties started to dampen again, and she sucked in her breath. His deep laugh sent a chill down her spine. His gaze met hers across the room and she could have fainted right then and there. He smiled and nodded at her, raising his drink in the air to her. Sandy turned around and gave Annabelle a thumbs-up, walking back to the table. Mr. Vecchio followed her, his drink in his hand.
I'm going to be sick. I can't believe she did it and they're coming over here,
she thought. “Annabelle, I want to introduce you to Marcus Vecchio. Mr. Vecchio, this is my friend, and another one of your employees, Annabelle.” Sandy slid into her seat. “It's nice to meet you, Annabelle. I want to thank you for your help the other day. Do you mind if I sit here?” He indicated the seat next to her, and then sat, scooting the chair closer to her. “It was nothing. Please, have a seat.” She scooted her chair over, not chancing bumping into his large frame, afraid she'd drool all over him. She glanced up at Sandy, whose beaming smile said it all. Annabelle listened to Sandy talk up a storm to Marcus. On occasion, Sandy tried to drag Annabelle into the conversation, but she just felt so old sitting next to them. Finally she grabbed her purse and started to look for her keys. She needed to get home and pull out her trusty dildo if she was going to get any work done. “If you two would excuse me, I should really get going. I have a story to edit before I go to bed.” She drank the rest of her eggnog and stuffed the last bit of a French fry into her mouth. “You're a writer?” Marcus asked. His deep green eyes settled on her and his hand landed on her knee, stopping her in her tracks. She glanced down at her leg, than back up at him. His gaze turned up the heat and he started to smile. He knew he was making her nervous, but continued to stroke her leg just under the hem of her skirt. “Not really. I have two e-published stories, but nothing in print yet,” she squeaked. She glanced over at Sandy for help. “Oh, don't let her fool you. I've read those two books and they're hot! The first one she wrote is going to be printed next week because she sold so many.” Sandy reached over the table and tugged on her hair. “Really? What kind of stories do you write?” Removing his hand from her leg, he slid his arm around the back of her chair, where he played with the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine. She knew her nipples had hardened against her blouse, but she didn't dare look down to draw attention to them. But his gaze drifted down to them anyway and his grin grew bigger as his fingers tightened on her neck.

She fidgeted with her empty glass. “I'm sure it's nothing you would read. It's just romance…” Shrugging her shoulders, she tried to move his fingers, but he held on only to massage the back of her neck. “Really? Like Sherrilyn Kenyon, or Angela Knight? Those are two of my favorite authors.” Marcus's voice deepened, which sent an electrical shock straight to her pussy. “I'm not that good, but yes, something along that line—more erotic than romance.” Her cheeks started to heat and her hands trembled. The tall blond man who was with Marcus earlier came over to their table. “Here you are. I come back from the restroom and you are with two beautiful ladies.” He was a carbon copy of Marcus, but with blond hair.
Oh my God, two!
Her gaze caught Sandy's, who laughed so hard she had tears slipping down her face. Annabelle's foot came up and kicked her in the shin, which made her laugh harder. “Okay, what's so funny?” Marcus looked from Sandy to Annabelle. “Nothing, just something Annabelle said earlier.” Sandy wiped her face with a napkin. “Ladies, may I introduce my brother, Lance? Do you mind if he joins us? Oh, you were going to go home. Can't you stay a little longer? I want to hear all about your stories and what was so funny earlier.” His voice dipped down to a whisper as he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Please. It's Friday.”

A moan slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. “I suppose I can work on the story tomorrow night,” she mumbled, and shifted in her chair. “Good, let me get you more eggnog. Lance, come and help me with the drinks. I need to ask you something anyway. Ladies, we'll be right back.” Marcus got up and Lance followed him to the bar.

Annabelle gulped. Sandy reached over and shoved her shoulder. “Look at those asses. Boy, Marcus can't keep his eyes off you. What the hell is all this shit about going home?” Sandy glared at her, tapping her nails onto the table. “And don't give me that crap about you being too old.” “I'm not like you, Sandy. Sure, I dream of having all those things I say and write, but come on, I've been married and I'm in the middle of a nasty divorce,” she whispered in case they overheard her. “You're so full of it, even Lance stared at you when he walked up.” Her phone rang. “Hold on, that's my cell.” She dug through her purse and cursed. Annabelle watched the men walk back to their table. They moved as one. People moved out of their way as they strolled through the crowd near the bar. Women turned to glance back at them as they moved. She didn't know why, but a slight bit of jealousy ran through her. She knew it was insane, especially since she was so out of their league.

Both Marcus and Lance pushed their chairs next to hers, one on each side, and set their drinks down in front of them. Their bodies crowded hers. “Is it getting hot in here or is this eggnog going to my head?” She tried to laugh and fanned herself with the menu again. Sandy rolled her eyes as she listened to the other person on the phone. Annabelle knew Sandy's mom had interrupted them again with one of her panic attacks. It never failed. Whenever they planned an outing, her mother would come up with some excuse to bring her home.

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