Ouch! My Vampire Doms Stole My Heart

By Calista Jayne

I never thought falling in love could hurt so much.

They’re supposed to set me aside. They’re supposed to forget all about me. They’re supposed to start over with someone new.

But this is Will and Xander we’re talking about. They never let someone else dictate what they're supposed to do.

There’s only one way to be together, and it means defeating their number one enemy...even if I have to stake him myself.

Ouch! My Vampire Doms Stole My Heart is the final thrilling, steamy installment of the fangtastic menage series, My Vampire Doms. It features two dominant vampire heroes and the human heroine they cherish. For content warnings, please visit the author’s website.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Calista Jayne
• Release date: Jan 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215405109

Calista Jayne

Calista Jayne adores filthy, smutty romances featuring dominant-yet-tender men. When not writing or reading, she’s falling in love with the heroes in K-dramas or walking along a California beach.

Book preview

1

Autumn

Their hands are everywhere, followed by their lips. Reassuring caresses, tender words, every action and whisper telling me that it will be okay, that we belong together, that they won’t let me go, not ever.

My body shudders, clamping down to hold them tight. And as their fangs scrape against my neck, I whisper, I give this to you. Please, take it.

As they sink in their fangs, I wake up.

I’m alone. My bedroom isn’t completely dark—the light filtering through the curtains is that gloomy, early-morning shade, like tear stains on blue satin.

My body throbs with need, but I won’t give myself the relief I crave. There are two faces that show up every time I close my eyes and try to touch myself—and whenever I see those faces, those loving eyes, I start to cry.

Tears are the ultimate cock-blocker.

So no, none of that. I climb out of bed and make my way down the hall. Not to the master bedroom, where Mom and Dale slept after their marriage, but to the guest room, where Mom slept before that.

I stop in front of the old dressing table she used to sit at to do her hair and make-up. The mirror reflects only me, this time. Not the childhood version of me, standing at her side and watching, rapt, as she gets ready for another ball, but the adult me, an orphan who is missing her mother so fiercely, the ache can be felt in my teeth and toes.

Six weeks have passed since the Ironwood gala, almost seven. My hair is back to its regular, light brown—partly due to the blond growing out some, and partly due to the skills of my Altera stylist. She’d clucked and tutted through the entire cut and color, alternately complaining about what a terrible job I’d done cutting and dyeing it myself and then bemoaning all the hardship I’d been through.

I drag my mom’s old brush through my hair. My locks are shorter, more severe. I look like I’m in mourning.

That’s probably less about the cut than the fact I haven’t smiled in weeks.

I think back to the Ironwood event. Meeting Heloise—their fucking fiancée who looked at me like I was absolute garbage. Gaius’s smug, knowing grin.

Is this true? I’d whispered, even though the guys were far away.

Will had stopped in his tracks, his blue eyes pools of sadness. And he nodded.

Gaius knew he was humiliating me. And this wasn’t the kind of humiliation I enjoy in the bedroom, but the soul-stripping, heart-rending type of finding out that the two men I trusted above everyone else in the world have been keeping things from me.

After the confrontation with Gaius and Heloise, I didn’t wait for Xander and Will to reach me; I went straight to Olivia.

I need to get out of here, I said. Without—without Xander and Will.

Her eyes got really big. Are you sure? They’re coming over here, they look really upset.

I need to go, please, I begged.

Gotcha.

And she made it happen, a swirl of activity, of security subtly waylaying Will and Xander, and none other than Roman, the guy from the hallway, driving me away. He gave me a few hundred dollars, saying that was part of Olivia’s instructions.

I didn’t know where to go, so I had him take me to a big box store for some regular clothes—leggings and a hoodie, plus some shoes. I’d changed in the back of the car, not even caring if I flashed him. What’s a little nudity between a girl and her getaway driver? As far as I know, he kept his eyes forward.

Then I used a little more of Olivia’s money to buy a bus ticket…right back to Altera, the place I’d fled at the start of all this heartache.

Dale’s gone. Dead. Everything has come to light—not only his murders, which include more than just my mom and the corrupt police officer, but also his financial crimes. Thank goodness my inheritance was set aside in a trust for me, and it turns out he couldn’t ever control it. My mom hired an excellent lawyer to set that up. If I’d tragically passed away, of course, the money would have gone to Dale. No doubt that was his plan.

If I hadn’t left Altera that fateful night back in May, he probably wouldn’t have let me live very long.

The other crimes that came to light were the two lookalike murders in San Esteban. Brianna Shook and Kelly Arrowing. Those were Sutton McGrath’s doing. He acted on Dale’s instruction, but because Dale’s dead, the district attorney is coming down hard on Sutton. Good. Let him be the justice system’s concern.

I have a broken heart to tend.

Fuck, so melodramatic, I mutter, setting down my mother’s brush.

I wander downstairs and turn on the television for the noise, letting the supernatural dilemmas of Academy of Ghosts provide the soundtrack to my morning.

There’s no five-course breakfast waiting for me. No Will, wearing an apron with flour smudged on his bicep, standing over a pan of savory bacon. No Xander, cracking jokes at Will’s expense.

I make coffee, decide to skip breakfast. Everything tastes like cardboard, anyway.

Halfway through my coffee, the gate buzzes. Probably another interviewer, who I will not talk to. But Clarissa has been coming at all hours, too. She’s having trouble sleeping after…everything.

I check the gate. It isn’t Clarissa, but a delivery van. The guy has his badge and ID held up for the camera. With the press of a button, I open the gate and let him in, feeling nothing more than a dull curiosity.

The van comes to a stop in front of the house. I step outside, bringing my coffee with me. If I have to, I can throw it in someone’s face.

I need to stop thinking like that. Dale is gone. There are no vampires here, and I’m no longer a threat to Gaius because I’m no longer with Will and Xander.

I’m safe now.

My therapist says if I keep repeating it like a mantra and taking deep breaths, I’ll calm my body into believing it.

The only thing I’m believing right now is my therapist is full of shit. I need to fire that guy.

Autumn Livingston? the delivery guy says, climbing out of the truck.

He’s huge, lumberjack huge, with a big beard that reminds me of Gaius’s.

I’m safe now. Yes, I’m Autumn.

Got a delivery for you.

Do you have any details? I don’t recall ordering anything.

He reaches into the cab of the truck. A second guy in there passes him an electronic tablet. The first guy taps the screen with a stylus. Package from San Esteban.

Fuck. I refuse the package.

He gapes at me. What?

I don’t want it. Take it back. If it came from Johannson or Hunt or The Corbin, then⁠—

Oh, hold up, he says. It came from San Esteban Youth Arts.

Olivia’s nonprofit.

The only thing I can think of, is I won one of the auctions at the gala. Well, that’s kind of fun. Maybe Olivia sent a note with it.

The fight leaving me, I say, All right, you can hand it over.

He chuckles. "Can’t hand you anything. We’ll need a dolly to get it into your house."

Did I bid on anything that large? Most of the student work was smaller than a throw pillow. Nothing that would require a dolly.

The men go to the back of the truck and open it up, then set up a ramp. This is a whole-ass production. I’m getting pretty interested now. Especially when they go into the truck and heave a giant crate on top of a dolly.

Four of me could fit inside that crate—it’s huge. Large red stickers cover each of the sides, with FRAGILE in all-caps.

This moment of curiosity is the first thing other than loneliness, anger, and sorrow that I’ve felt in quite a while. I’m glad I bid on random student work, and I’m very fucking glad I was bidding high while using the guys’ credit cards. Now I can’t wait to see what I won, to get a full appreciation for my petty revenge.

I lead the guys around the side of the front patio so they can use the ramp instead of the stairs. When we reach the wide entry of my house, the guys pause.

Where do you want it? Lumberjack asks.

I shrug and point to the middle of the entrance area. Um, here, I guess?

It’s a gamble. The thing is so big, I won’t be able to move it myself. It could be hideous, honestly, although I mostly bid on pieces that I actually liked.

The guys ease the crate off of the dolly, their muscles straining as they maneuver it into place. Now it’s framed with two hallways branching off to the side, and a wide staircase stretching past it to lead to the second floor. If it isn’t ugly, it might actually be a nice centerpiece for the room.

With a crowbar, the men pry apart the crate. Shredded paper falls like snow from the foam core fastened to the piece.

Lumberjack holds up a pair of clippers and gestures to the plastic ties. Do you want me to⁠—

I can take it from here, I say. Thanks. Would you mind taking the crate with you, though?

No problem. Lumberjack’s coworker hauls up the pieces of crate and carries them outside.

Lumberjack has me sign the tablet, confirming I received the artwork. Then he follows his friend outside.

I lock the door after them and hustle into the kitchen for some scissors.

I should’ve let the guy clip off the ties, because my scissors are barely strong enough. My hands hurt from squeezing them so hard.

Finally, though, I’m able to get the ties off, and the sections of foam core slip away.

It’s Olivia’s sculpture. Black ceramic, iridescent glaze. The three people, their arms linked behind each other’s shoulders, heads bent inward.

When I first spotted it at the gala, I saw power and love and affection.

Now all I see is betrayal.

A note is tied to