PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Shapeshifter Romance: The Vampire's Stolen Bride (BBW Fantasy Alpha Male Romance Books) (New Adult Vampire Fun Mature Young Adult Billionaire Steamy Love and Romance Novella) (57 page)

Chapter 3

              The next couple of months, she and James worked together to obtain more funds for the charity, and they were actually successful. Perhaps it was because James was a man—perhaps it was because Catharine worked better with a partner rather than by herself; whatever the reason, people responded to the two of them and their cause more generously than they ever had when it was merely Catharine and her cause. With hundreds of pounds in the bank now, James had suggested they start a program within the charity.

              “What do you mean?” Catharine asked James in her father’s office.

              James clasped his hands together. “It doesn’t seem enough to simply give the poor money. We should help him gain a better lot in life. Perhaps we can help them get an education—teach them how to start their own businesses and factories.”

              “What a brilliant suggestion.” Her mind ran with it further, and she grinned. “What if, in addition to that, we help them build their own tenant building? Something bigger, something people could actually live and raise their children in.”

              “We could teach them how to design and build, and then we could pay them for their labor.”

              “Yes!”

              They tossed around ideas like that all afternoon—talking about funding restaurants that could feed the starving, talking about teaching every person how to read—and so on.

              It was exciting for Catharine to share such ideas—such passion—with someone. She no longer felt so alone and powerless. And James, now that he wasn’t being so horrid, was truly kind, intelligent, and even enthusiastic. He was likeable now.                           

              “Catharine?” James said, tilting his head and squinting at her. “Are you alright? You are staring at me like I am a box of sweets.”

              Catharine blushed. “I was simply thinking about our success these past few months. I owe you a lot for that.”

              James studied her for a moment, as if suspicious, before his expression softened. “Truly?”

              “Truly.”

              He hummed thoughtfully, his signature smirk coming on his face. A hint of arrogance shone in his eyes, but it wasn’t unpleasant, like it used to be. It was reassuring and…and even attractive, if Catharine was going to be honest with herself. He was obviously confident in and proud of himself—a bit too much, it seemed, but regardless, this was still good for him. And she couldn’t help but be proud of him, too.

              “Which program should we try first?” she asked.

              “You should choose,” he said. He twitched a little like he was in pain, his smirk morphing into a genuine smile. “None of this would have happened without you. You started this charity.”

              Catharine beamed at the compliment before focusing more on answering the question.

              They didn’t have the money to build an entirely new building, but they had enough to renovate one tenant building in London.

              It was a start.

              When their project was done, Catharine gave some of the remaining money to the biggest family living in the building. Specifically, she gave the envelope of money to the youngest son, a five year-old. He looked in the envelope, smiled, then hugged Catharine tightly before running back inside his newly fixed up home.

              James stood next to her as the two of them looked at the building. It wasn’t perfect, but the windows were wider, the walls were thicker, and the plumbing actually worked now.

              “You shouldn’t let anyone touch, you know,” he said, not unkindly. “You mean well, but some people don’t.”

              Catharine shrugged. “I know. But I’m not one to live in fear, however logical it might be to do so.”

              She turned to leave—to go over to the carriage, where Andrew was waiting for them—but she stopped when she saw that James was staring at her intently. Her skin tingled with awareness of his gaze upon her.

              “You are remarkable, Catty Sadlier,” he said fondly.

              Catharine’s face heated up immediately. She tried to think of something clever to say, but based on the way James smirked at her, she knew her face must be incredibly red. Embarrassed, show bowed her head and cleared her throat. “We should go,” she said.

              “Of course,” James said. He offered his arm to her. “Shall we, Lady Sadlier?”

              Still blushing, Catharine smiled and snaked her arm around his. They had walked together numerous times over the months, but now it felt different somehow. She was more…cognizant of it—of the pressure of his arm around hers, of his scent, of him watching her—

              Catharine shook her head and began walking forward, which forced James to walk along with her. He laughed—undoubtedly at her—but she was in the right state of mind to retort.

              Their relationship continued to change after that moment. James kept complimenting her, and she kept blushing in response. He would laugh, and she would stutter.

              It was strange. Had it been anyone other than James, Catharine might have believed they were falling in love with one another. But it was James, and despite the fact that he had turned into a kinder person, he was still more likely to mess with Catharine than sincerely wish to pursue her. She was wider and more outspoken than the girls he normally courted. It was silly to even consider the idea of him caring for her like that.

              She, on the other hand, could not stop herself from thinking about him more and more as time went on. Even when she wasn’t directly thinking about him, he was always on the back of her mind.

              Biting her lip, she sat at the table in her father’s large office. He sometimes ate dinner in his office when he worked late at night, but that particular night, he had finished business early and had gone out to meet with his business acquaintances. Now, she and James had the office to themselves to discuss obtaining more funds for the charity—to start a new program, or perhaps try doing the same one again.

              Except, while Catharine continued to speak on topic, her mind continued to wander to James…how would his bare flesh feel on her skin? What would his lips taste like?

              Catharine lowered her gaze to the table before her. There were some bank statements on it—bank statements that she had acquired—but she could no longer make sense of them; her head felt like it was spinning.

              “Catharine?” James said beside her. He lowered the papers—their future plans—to the table and turned more toward her. “Did you hear me?”

              She shook her head. “I apologize, James. I’m afraid I am terribly tired at the moment. Perhaps we should call it a night and continue this conversation tomorrow.”

              “Very well,” he said.

              Catharine rubbed her temples and tried to fight past her own giddy feelings. When she noticed that James hadn’t moved, she turned to him. “Is everything alright?”

              He was staring at the table before his gaze rose to her. “Yes, yes. I was just…” He looked at the table again, tapping it. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you about something.”

              “Oh?”

              A nervous, breathy laugh crawled out of his throat. “Yes.” Once again, he looked back up at her, his eyes glazed with so many emotions. “You…you are very…good.” He winced.

              “Thank you,” she said. She was more confused than anything else, but he looked very serious in this moment, so she remained patient with him. “That is kind of you to say.”

              “You’re the best,” he blurted, leaning toward her. “I…” His eyelids lowered, his mouth parting as uncertainty wrinkled his brow.

              Catharine’s breath caught in her throat. She knew she was reading him wrong—that he couldn’t be leaning toward her to kiss her, that his intentions weren’t romantic in nature—but despite knowing this, her heart hammered and her lungs tightened. James continued to lean toward her, and he seemed timid; James was never timid, not with her.

              His lips were centimeters from her own when he stopped, warm puffs of air leaving his mouth and tickling her face. “Catharine?”

              She shuddered at his soft, broken tone. “Yes?”

              “May I…may I kiss you?”

              Catharine’s entire body flushed, her mind reeling at the words. “Yes.”

              The skin around his eyes wrinkled, revealing that he was smiling. Her heart stuttered, and then she swore it stopped altogether when she felt his lips press against hers. It was a gentle, brief kiss, but a second after he pulled away from her, he kissed her again, harder. It thrilled her, and without even thinking about it, she gripped the front of his jacket before her hands lowered to his thighs. His legs tensed, then they went lax beneath her palms.

              So focused on where she was touching him, she jumped when his fingers skimmed over the back of her neck. Then his hands pressed against the side of her face, his fingers tickling her behind her ear.

              Heat shot through her, and she gasped into his mouth.

              James, being James, took full advantage of this moment and darted his tongue in between her lips. Each spot his tongue touch felt searing, pure pleasure growing and burning in her lower belly.

              Catharine moaned. This was all so new—so much—and while she was worried she was going to burst from sensory overload, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more—needing more. With this running through her mind, she pulled away and kissed James’s jaw, his neck, and then the base of his throat. All the while, the hands on his thighs moved up and down.

              James inhaled sharply. “Catty,” he breathed. His hands had lowered to hers, and she allowed him to wrap his fingers around hers and pull her forward a little.

              She moved and wrapped her arms around him, bringing her lips to his again. They kissed sloppily—teeth hitting teeth, tongues tasting lips. Catharine’s body was growing hotter and hotter as the tender flesh between her legs became wet.

              “All of you,” Catharine begged when they parted. “I want all of you now. Please.”

              James didn’t need to be told twice. He guided her upward until they were both standing, his hands move to the ribbons on her back. Pressed against her, he smirked at her as he took his tentative time untying and unbuttoning her clothing. Catharine openly expressed her frustration and want as she stared up at him. For some reason, him not touching—him not kissing her—was more tantalizing and more tortuous than she had imagined it would be.

              “James,” she whined, embarrassed at herself, yet too desperate to care. Pleasure was still building within her, lowering occasionally, then rising again at rapid speeds when his fingertips brushed against her skin. She moaned again. “James.”

              “God, I love it when you say my name.” He tugged at her dress then, tearing it a little. “If you want me to be fast, your precious dress will be ruined.”

              “Ruin it,” she blurted. “Please.”

              His smile widened, and he ripped apart her dress within seconds, each loud tear sending waves of pleasure through her. When she was in nothing but her undergarments, she helped James tear this fabric off of her, as well.

              A relieved sigh moved past her lips. Her body free, it was so much easier to breathe and move. After her moment of reprieve, her eyes raked over James’s clothed body. She reached for his jacket and eagerly helped him shoulder it off. “Your turn,” she whispered.

              “God, yes,” he said in return, his eyes ravishing every ounce of her form. “God, yes.”

              They tore his clothes off as well, though his pants slid off of his waist rather easily. Soon, he was in nothing but his socks, his hard cock blushing and sticky.

              “James,” she whispered, her hand reaching toward his throbbing member.

              James took gently took her hand and brought to his lips, his gaze softening. “Beautiful,” he breathed over her knuckles, making her heart beat a little harder. He smirked, clearly knowing the effect he had on her, before pushing her back until her thighs hit the table. “Fall back, carefully.”

              With his guidance, she leaned and moved back until she was lying on top of the table. The cool surface made her shiver, James’s warm hands also making her shiver when they explored every aspect of her body. When he came upon her heaving breasts, he encased as much of them as he could with his large hands and fondled them—softly at first, then roughly.

              “James,” she whimpered, widening her legs. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking for, but her core was so hot for it—needed it. “James. Please.”

              He groaned, sounding as needy as she felt. However, he was slow as he trailed his hand from her breasts, down her belly, and to the mound of hair over her most sensitive area. He lightly tugged it before he moved his fingers in between her folds. All he did was press the flesh there, and pleasure burst through her.