What Goes Bump In The Night

by C. R. Jane

  A sneaky hand tweaking her left nipple had her attention refocusing on her own pleasure and she was surprised at just how close she was to that final peak once again. Maeve clenched her internal muscles, wringing a tortured groan from Lucian. His eyes flashed red and he lowered his head, razor sharp fangs embedding deep into breast tissue. Her orgasm was instantaneous, her body locking down on the hard shaft pounding into her. She gasped, unable to make another sound as Lucian licked her wound closed, his rhythm stuttering before he too, fell over the edge. Their release was enough to cause a chain reaction in the other two and Maeve watched as Bishop thrust erratically into Lucian a few more times before literally howling his way through his orgasm. Gabe followed seconds later, his hard grip on Bishop's hips causing dents in the fairer man's skin. Gabe's growl came deep from his chest and his eyes squeezed shut as if the pleasure was too much to bear.

  Minutes - or hours - later, Maeve puffed, mentally reminding her wonderfully used body that it needed to breathe, "Well, if that didn't break the curse, I don't know what will."

  "I'm not cursed! There is no such thing as hexes!"

  They all ignored Bishop's swift retort, laughing and collapsing together onto their big bed. No, Maeve thought.There was no such thing as hexes. But as she listened to the heartbeats of her three lovers, she couldn't help but think miracles were real.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bishop stood barefoot and bare-chested in their kitchen the following morning, allegedly making the eats. He had noble intentions to spoil his exhausted lovers with a banquet of whatever breakfast-type foods could be reasonably prepared with limited skill. But thus far, all he'd made was a pretty impressive tent from his boxers. Nominated by the blissfully sated group in the room next door as their gofer for caffeine and breakfast goods, he'd reluctantly left them still tangled together amongst the sheets to fetch much needed, and - he chuckled to himself - well-deserved sustenance.

  Now however, rather than putting on the pot of coffee his limbic system craved so badly or even popping some bread into the toaster, he instead stood, palms on the counter, slightly mesmerised by the branches swaying outside the window. As they tilted leisurely in the breeze, he happily catalogued the delicious new sensations vying for attention inside his body; aching shoulders and stretched muscles all testament to three spirited rounds of love-making and some very energetic and flexible workmanship by everyone involved. After such an incredible and mind-altering experience, just getting out of bed had been an exercise in control and he thought he deserved props for not submitting to Luci's very serious suggestion that they forget the traditional notion of breakfast and instead become one sexy vampire-hybrid-werewolf-pancake and try all their moves again. Only this time, dripping in syrup. Bishop could admit that the idea was intriguing but luckily he had enough presence of mind to realise that he needed to get some air - otherwise the heady scent of their combined lust would continue to tantalise and probably engulf him until he quite contentedly starved to death in that bed. He grinned.A fun way to go but not a scene he needed Sam called out to.

  Tearing his gaze away from the window, Bishop glanced down at his pants soldier as it continued to stubbornly salute the morning. Like the majority of guys, he woke up most mornings with the flag being run up the pole and until a few months ago he'd grown accustomed to dealing with the situation himself. Now, as he flicked aroused eyes in the direction of their combined bedroom he gave GI. Joe the temporary order to stand down, knowing that after breakfast there would be three very willing volunteers to thoroughly take care of the mission. He was also really looking forward to returning the favour. Just the idea of it had all the blood leaving his brain and pooling south of the border but he was nothing if not stubborn himself. He'd promised to make breakfast and he would damn well deliver.

  Dragging over-long hair back from his face and trying to ignore his throbbing crotch as best he could, he instead rolled his shoulders and finally put on the coffee he'd been longing for. With just that small action, Bishop recognised that there would be some twinges associated with his movements today, although given the circumstances he didn't mind in the least. In fact, rather than try to stretch the kinks out, he took a rare moment to revel in them. The best bit was that he could recall the moment in which each and every small pang originated, and playing those over in his mind now brought a grin to his face that not even today's date could wipe away.

  It might be the thirtieth of October, only one day until Halloween, but today wasn't a date he would remember or even care about. Yesterday, on the other hand, would be an anniversary scorched into his memory until the end of time. That staggering instant when they had all finally come together as one, was quite possibly the most fulfilling moment of his life. As soon as Gabe made that first move - and bless his hybrid soul for having the steel balls to do it - everything had suddenly seemed so natural. And the best bit? His lovers' sighs of pleasure and moans of contentment as he rolled over their bare arses to get to the kitchen. Those sounds were validation - not that proof was needed - that they all felt the same way he did.

  Whole.

  "Huh, you're still here."

  Bishop startled at the surprised amusement in Maeve's voice and spun away from the still empty toaster to see her pad seductively into the kitchen, her perfect body draped only in a thin sheet. As his eyes roved hungrily over her curves, hers seemed to do the same; an expression of wanting on her face as she took everything in. When she paused on the triangle his boxers made, he saw a smile play at the corner of her mouth. Her lips were a little red and puffy from all the attention they'd received and just seeing them so ravaged made the wolf in him want to nip at her again. Clearing what suddenly felt like sand from his throat, he asked gruffly, "Where did you expect to find me?"

  "Well," slowly dragging her attention north, Maeve wet her lips with a sensuous flick of her tongue, "given that you've been out here for close to thirty minutes we wondered if you had changed your mind about the syrup and gone to get supplies." She laughed, "Luci is going to be so disappointed."

  "Thirty minutes?" he found the clock on the wall and realised it had been more like forty-five. Jeez, he'd been staring out the window all lovestruck and moon-eyed like a teenager and completely lost track of time. And if he didn't still feel so damn good about everything, he might be embarrassed.

  Maeve swung her gaze around the space, lingering on the coffee pot. "How about you bring that … and that," she pointed coyly and with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes to his obvious hard-on, "back to bed. Then we can all go out for breakfast … and a little shopping," she added quickly.

  Bishop grabbed the coffee and mugs and followed her as though he were in a trance, his tented boxers pointing the way like a compass needle. It wasn't until a good two hours later, when they were all sated and showered and ready to leave that her words finally sunk in. He was the last one out the door, shrugging into a jacket and locking up behind them, when the penny dropped and he called out, "Hang on, what did you mean about us going shopping?"

  Maeve turned to smile at him over her shoulder and her whole face brightened. "Well of course we have to go shopping. For candy. After all, tomorrow is Halloween."

  She practically skipped in the direction of their car.

  Gabe hung back and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't feel bad that she distracted you with a sex trance. It happens to all of us." He brushed his lips over Bish's bristled jaw then offered tongue-in-cheek, "Want me to hold your hand so you don't fall over? What with you being cursed and all."

  Bishop growled low in his throat and gave Gabriel a friendly but not too gentle shove. "Give it a rest. Nobody believes in hexes."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Barely an h
our after leaving the house, Lucian watched as a comically grim-faced Bishop stumbled out of the market, barely managing to keep hold of Maeve's carefully selected bags of Halloween loot. Just past the check-out a whining kid wanting lollies - and not fruit - discarded his half-finished banana and dropped the peel at the burly werewolf's feet. This resulted in a slip-and-slide which would have been amusing enough had the unchecked motion not sent Bish directly into the outstretched arms of a plastic, six-foot-five zombie featured in a festive window display. Finally free but still entangled in cobwebs and fake spiders, a red-faced Bishop stopped on the sidewalk to set the bags down with a grunt, chased by an inventive string of expletives. Exiting the store at that same moment, the mother of the banana-dropper scowled at their group, covering her boy's ears and shuffling quickly past.

  "I offered to hold his hand," Gabe mumbled.

  "Now might not be the best time to mention that." Because Maeve was already picking arachnids out of Bishop's hair, he bent to retrieve the shopping bags for their own safety, thinking it best to get them out of range. Standing, he raised one wicked eyebrow and threw caution to the wind, reminding his grumpy friend, "Gabe did offer to hold your hand, you know."

  "Not now, Luci." Maeve tried to sound serious but there was mirth in her tone along with the reprimand.

  Lucian could only grin at Gabe's mouthed, what the fuck? and Bishop's menacing scowl. "Sorry, I just couldn't help myself," he admitted, shrugging broad shoulders.

  "Try." Bishop growled. Plucking a final clump of fake cobweb from his jacket he looked around at their small group and attempted to recover some dignity. "Let's get out of here, huh?"

  "Great idea," Gabe brightened. "Breakfast?"

  Leading the way to a favourite café of theirs far from the horrors of the market, Lucian glanced back now and then to see Bishop following at a distance. "You okay back there, bud?"

  "I'm fine," Bishop grumbled back. "Just ─"

  "Assessing risks?" Maeve fell back to peck him on the lips then take his hand. When she saw he was about to protest, she gave his fingers a hybrid-strength squeeze. "I'm not giving you a choice. You're safe with me," she assured him.

  Lucian was just about to make a smart-arse remark when he noticed his friend's head snap up and his hand pull away from Maeve's. She had a momentarily hurt look on her face the second before all three of them registered Bishop's shocked expression. Lucian and Gabe were at their werewolf's side in the blink of an eye but Bish was already on the move, pointing;

  "That's him! That's the hobo!"

  Bishop's strong legs ate up the pavement but even he couldn't outrun two hybrids and a vampire. They caught up with him when he came to a skidding halt at the next corner, a wild look on his face as he spun in a tight circle, his eyes searching in all directions.

  "You saw the hobo who put the hex on you? Where?" Maeve appeared on guard as she looked around them.

  "I don't know where he went." Bishop muttered, distracted. Just then there was a shuffle of movement as a woman with a stroller revealed a gap in the mob of people standing at the crossing. "There! That's the hobo - he's the one wearing the navy-blue suit."

  Lucian followed Bishop's finger and saw that it was pointing at a well-groomed middle-aged man. The guy had a pricey-looking brown leather satchel slung over one shoulder and a haircut he could be envious of. "Are you sure that's him? I mean, he doesn't have his dick out or anything," Lucian pointed out.

  "You sound disappointed," Gabe raised an eyebrow at him.

  Lucian winked, "Well, I did glimpse it before. It was the only part that was memorable to me."

  Bishop either didn't hear them or pretended not to. He pounced on the guy before the lights could change.

  With his hands bunched at the man's collar, Bishop lifted him, heels off the ground, to demand, "You thought you could put a curse on me and get away with it? Seriously?!"

  Lucian, Gabe, and Maeve watched on entranced as the gentleman tried ineffectually to bat Bishop's hands away. In a cultured British accent, he stuttered;

  "Easy there, Mr Rambo. Think you could dial down the enthusiasm just a little?"

  Looking a little shocked to hear the accented words, Bishop pressed on regardless, putting the man down but using his vise-like grip to drag them nose-to-nose. As the crowd parted around them and a few onlookers took out their phones, he growled, "Remove it, right now."

  "Remove what?" The man found his aplomb and realising he was being filmed began to sound outraged rather than afraid. "Take your hands off of me!"

  "I'll put it this way; remove the hex," Bishop, flinty-eyed, warned in a lethal whisper by the man's cheek, "or lose your ear. I remember you were so fond of mine, after all."

  "Oookaay. I think that's enough." As much as Lucian enjoyed seeing his lover engage in shows of brute strength, things were beginning to get a little out-of-hand and he was starting to question Bishop's judgement in the matter - something that had never happened before. Shouldering his way between the two men and successfully loosening Bishop's grip, he managed to free the poor Brit so that the man could scuttle safely across the road. "Well he's going to book a flight back to London and never return," Luci mumbled to himself.

  Bishop immediately rounded on the vampire, "You let him get away. Why did you let him get away?"

  "Correction," Lucian held up a calming hand, "I let British George Clooney get away. That man who almost wet his pants just now wasn't your guy. For one, he was wearing pants! And two, he didn't look like any hobo I have ever seen. His shoes probably cost more than your entire wardrobe."

  "Yeah, well I never forget a face," Bishop muttered angrily. "And that was his!"

  "And I thought you didn't believe in hexes," Lucian countered. "But here we all are."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Maeve sat on the couch watching Bishop as he walked the length of their living room for the hundredth time, muttering to himself. She'd catch phrases like; that was him or how did he manage it, but she couldn't seem to get him to sit down and talk to her.

  "He still doing that?" Gabe came out of the kitchen with a Pepsi in his hand. "Do you think I should try and talk to him?"

  "Go nuts. I hope you have better luck than me." Tucking her legs beneath her on the lounge, she watched Bishop reach the wall, pivot and walk back again. She shook her head. This was getting ridiculous.

  "Still doing the Rain Man thing, I see," Lucian joined their crew. Glancing sidelong at Gabe's Pepsi, he snagged it and took a long swallow before handing it back. "Thanks."

  "Hey! Manners," Gabe grumbled.

  "Oh please," Luci grinned unrepentantly. "After the places my mouth has explored on you, I'm pretty sure my lips on that can are harmless."

  Maeve watched the grin her two men shared and her heart was warmed by it. Right now though, it was her other man she was worried about. Taking charge, she stood up and held out a hand, pulling Bishop to sit down with her and forcing him to look at her. With her hands framing his rough cheeks, she demanded, "Talk to me."

  Bishop examined the lounge beneath them with hesitation. "Are you sure you want to sit next to me? This thing might catch on fire."

  His mouth quirked in a lopsided grin but Maeve could tell he was still being semi-serious. "Of course I want to sit with you," she chided. "You are not hexed or cursed and you do not have the evil eye, because all of that is rubbish." She leaned in and kissed him soundly. "And even if you were hexed I would still be sitting here. I took my chances with all of you once and I'm not running away now."

  "That goes for me too." Gabe came around the back of the lounge and laid a hand on Bishop's shoulder.

  "And me … if you'll still have me after I sa
ved the silver fox," Lucian winked.

  Bishop scrubbed a hand over his face. "It wasn't your fault," he admitted, looking up. "It was me … I had a run of bad luck and I got a little spooked."

  "And almost strangled a harmless tourist."

  Maeve shot Lucian another warning look - one she'd been practising - but Bishop seemed oddly okay with it. He even smiled a little abashedly.

  "Christ, I did almost strangle a George Clooney body-double in broad daylight, didn't I?" He let out a hoarse laugh. "I think I could use a drink." Laying a gentle hand on Maeve's leg and smiling tiredly and apologetically at Gabe and Lucian, he stood up only to trip on the rug and stumble a few steps.

  The room was deathly quiet save for three sharp intakes of breath. Three pairs of eyes watched as Bishop regained his footing and strode carefully to where the scotch bottle rested on the rack on the kitchen island.

  "I'm fine," he murmured. "Everyone trips on that rug. It's a hazard."

  Maeve tried to think of a time when anyone had tripped on the rug but her mind came up blank. Surely it was just an unlucky coincidence.

  Bishop uncorked the bottle and took two swallows before grabbing a tumbler and pouring a generous three fingers.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Upon hearing the bone-chilling growl, Maeve moved with lightning speed. Her claws were extended past her fingertips and her fangs elongated by the time she reached the front door. It was Halloween morning and Bishop had just ventured outside to retrieve the newspaper. Maeve wrenched open the door, the hinges barely surviving the violent movement, only to be brought up short by the scene in front of her. There was Bishop, in all his shifted werewolf glory, bronze fur bristled high as he growled with menace at …