by Tia Siren
Hull didn’t last long, fucking her hot wet mouth. He pulled from between her lips suddenly, and without needing to be told Rebecca reached up, wrapping her thin fingers around his massive member, and she gave him a few pumps as he came, throwing hot sticky strands of cum across her face. One landed beside her nose, running into the corner of her eye, two more went directly across her lips.
“At least it’ll be easy to clean up,” Hull cracked, and they laughed together under the hot water.
5
After the shower, they had made love, slow and sensual and long into the night. The next day they didn’t get out of bed until after noon, fucking one more time in the morning, leaving Rebecca’s pussy full of Hull’s hot spunk.
As the day wore on, they got up and showered, separately this time so they could actually get clean. They ate, and laughed, and watched TV together. Night fell, and Rebecca turned to the man she had once loved, and now loved again.
“Don’t go tonight. I can leave the club, we can forget about it.”
“My father made that club what it is,” Hull said. “It’s my club.”
“Jason is big…”
“I’m big too. You don’t think I can take him?”
“I know you can, but he’s an asshole. He doesn’t play fair.”
“It’ll be fine,” Hull said. “I’ll go kick his ass, he’ll slink off to lick his wounds, and I’ll do what my father would have wanted me to do. You worry too much.”
Rebecca sighed. “I worry for the both of us, since you don’t worry at all.”
Hull laughed and kissed her. “Some things never change,” he said. And then, right there on the couch, they made love again.
The Harris plant was an old factory that had long been closed down, on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. It was on a dusty and desolate road, and the cops never went out that way. The perfect place for a brawl.
Hull and Rebecca both rode their bikes, side by side down the empty highway. They pulled into the plant’s lot, once it had been paved but now it was broken and mostly gravel. The plant itself stood behind the lot, a giant long dead, the windows shattered and the gray paint peeling.
Jason was there already, along with what looked like all of The Hammers. Hull parked and Rebecca parked next to him, throwing the kickstands of their bikes down and climbing off of them. Hull was wearing blue jeans and a black tee shirt, and Jason was decked out in full Hammer’s gear, Chaps, a black leather vest with their sigil on the back.
“Let’s just go,” Rebecca said, keeping her voice low. Hull shook his head, turned to her and kissed her.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” she replied. And then he turned and made his way into the center of the circle that was forming. Jason stood in the center, the circle made up of the club. Rebecca made her way to the front and stood next to Gloria.
“Rules?” Jason asked after Hull was standing in front of him.
“You tell me,” Hull replied.
“No weapons. Punches, kicks. Fight like men.”
“Do you know how a man fights?” Hull asked, and a soft titer rose in the crowd.
“Are you ready to get your ass kicked?” Jason asked, putting his fists up.
“Let’s go,” Hull said, and he stepped forward. The fight was on.
Hull landed the first hit, and then the second, powerful punches to Jason’s body. Jason could scrap, but Hull had learned how to box while he was a Navy Seal. Jason was worried about his face, and left his body wide open. Even after only two hits, he would have a massive purple bruise on his ribcage the next day.
Still, Jason wasn’t a slouch. He had no finesse, but he was powerful, and he landed a skull-rattling punch on Hull’s jaw which sent the man backpedaling and kicking up dust from the gravel.
“Let’s go, bitch,” Jason said, and he stepped forward, swinging at Hull’s head again, but Hull ducked under the punch and brought his own fist up, slamming it into Jason’s jaw and sending the man sprawling. He tried to get up, but Hull was upon him, pinning him down and slamming his fists into his head, his neck, and his chest. It hadn’t been much of a fight.
When Hull was sure Jason was done, and he could tell just by looking at him, the man’s face was a sea of red and purple and blue, his eyes already blackened, blood pouring from a broken nose and a mouth now missing a few teeth, he got up. “I win,” Hull said, and about three-quarters of the crowd began to cheer.
Rebecca had been tense, worried, but now it all fell from her, and she smiled and began making her way towards Hull. He grinned when he saw her and opened his arms to her. He didn’t see Jason standing up behind him, rushing forward as he pulled something from his pocket. Others saw it, and they hurried to stop him, but they weren’t fast enough. Jason held a switchblade, and the black flashed out from the handle with a glint of silver and an audible clack. And then the blade was buried in Hull’s back, just before the first of the bikers reached Jason and wrenched him away, throwing him to the ground.
“No!” Rebecca yelled out, as Hull fell to the gravel. She dropped beside him, pulled his head up into her lap. She had no way of knowing at that point, but a doctor would tell her that night, that the blade had pierced both his kidney and his lung. It had been placed in the worst spot it could, and Hull had no hope.
He was looking up at her with glassy eyes.
“He’s a fucking cheater,” Hull said, and he tried to smile but he couldn’t. Perhaps he knew there was nothing to smile about, there was nothing anyone could do to keep him alive.
“You’re fine,” Rebecca said, hoping against hope. Not far away a couple of massive bikers were holding Jason down, kicking the shit out of him. She thought they might kill him, pissed off about his cowardice, and she found herself hoping they would.
“I love you,” Hull said, his voice shaky and sounding as if he was far away.
“I love you too. Be quiet. Someone will call an ambulance.
Hull opened his mouth as if to say something else, but he never did. His eyes darkened, his last breath came out in a ragged sigh, and then he was gone, his blood pooling around him and the woman he loved.
Rebecca cried. That night, the next, and for a hundred after it. The men did end up beating Jason to death, and then The Hammers spent the time to dispose of both bodies themselves, to keep the police from being involved. Jason and Hull just became two men missing, never to be found. Wesel became the president of the club, and he visited with Rebecca, making sure she would stay on as club mechanic. She told him she would. She had nothing in her life other than The Hammers now. The club had taken everything from her, until it was the only thing left standing. She rode her bike, she fixed her club’s bikes up, and motorcycles became her life once more. It was the only thing she could do to keep her mind off of everything. As long as she lived, she would never be able to mend her own broken heart. But a motorcycle was loud enough to drown it all out, even a broken heart.
*****
THE END
PARANORMAL SHIFTER Romance – The Bear’s Bravery
CHAPTER ONE
The two friends stood side by side, skipping stones into the lake and not saying much. Everyone from the tribe, it seemed, did that as a form of therapy; when words were insufficient to capture heartfelt emotions. Then Eric walked back to the boulder and leapt onto it and just sat there staring ahead, lost in thought. Bradley followed after him and gave him a firm grip on the shoulder as a show of empathy.
“It might not be that bad,” he said as he tried to console the young man.
“Easy for you to say; you are over the hill, and you landed a good one,” Eric countered. “Look at me! Do I look at all ready or eager or willing to do any of this now?”
“You really don’t have much of a choice, man,” Bradley told him. “That’s just the way things are. We have lived like this for centuries, and we aren’t worse off because of it.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” Eric snarled. “I should be able
to choose who I spend the rest of my life with, under normal circumstances. I shouldn’t be forced into it just because I happened to be born this way.”
“But you were born this way, Eric, and you know well the consequences of not obeying. Our forefathers have been known to protect us, and we get to keep our abilities as a reward for it.”
“Yeah, well maybe I’m better off without it,” Eric said, heaving an exasperated sigh.
“You don’t mean that,” Bradley said to him. “You’ll see; you will look back on this moment soon enough and laugh at yourself. Who knows, you might get to save the girl of your dreams.”
“The rules don’t even make sense,” Eric continued to protest. “Why twenty-five? Why not when I’m forty and don’t care who I end up with. It’s stupid.”
“Careful now,” Bradley said as he looked around. “You are bordering on blasphemy now.” The two sat in silence for a few moments after that as Eric stewed some more. “Twenty-five is the prime of our lives, and it’s the time when the spirits dole out their richest blessings on us. We are at our best in those years; good strong men who will lead the next generation of bears into this tribe.”
“How come the wolves get to stay within their pack, and vampires live free? Why do I have to do this? I don’t even have someone I’d like to save at the moment. I haven’t fallen in love as yet. What if the woman I “choose”, or the one the spirits choose for me, isn’t one I can fall in love with?”
“I know it’s scary, Eric, but it has to be done. Each of us has to go through that when we get to twenty-five, and you will be at that age tomorrow. It should be a cause for celebration. Plus, do you think the wolves like the idea of staying within the pack? What if they don’t like any of the women there?”
“I guess you are right,” Eric conceded. “It comes with the territory, and we don’t get to choose, one way or another.”
“Right. Just imagine you are a vampire, and you fall for a human. Imagine the horror of trying not to eat your date every chance you get.”
Eric laughed. “At least I don’t have to go through that. I get your point,” he said, glancing over at Bradley. “Win some, lose some.”
“You will be fine,” Bradley said as he stood. “In the meantime, I think there is a little lady waiting for me at home. Catch you later, and chin up.”
“Yeah, later man,” Eric said as he watched his friend go.
Bradley had had to go through the same ritual two years ago as Eric now faced. But instead of dancing around the fire, or getting weird tattoos, or drinking some potion the medicine man made as some tribes did, he got a ritual for life. His life was officially defined after the age of twenty-five, and he dreaded what would happen next. According to his tribe’s customs, the spirits choose the partners of the male bears according to the life they first save after they come of age.
Eric couldn’t remember saving anyone before, so now his fear was split down the middle. What if he never saved anyone? Would he be cursed to go through life alone? And on the other hand, what if he saved a woman he wasn’t even attracted to? What would happen if he saved a girl he liked who didn’t like who he truly was? He shook his head as he tried to dispel the thoughts running amuck in his mind.
In his human form, his mind was more intolerable, and he often sought refuge in his true self, as he did now. Slowly he climbed down from the boulder and slipped out of his clothes. He stood there for a second in the nude, feeling the cold air wash over his bare skin. He closed his eyes as he tried not to think about how different his life would be after tomorrow. Slowly he could feel his body rippling as he replaced smooth skin with fur, and landed on his paws. He growled long and loud as he tried to release his tension and then ran off into the bushes.
“Do you think he will be alright?” Bradley turned when he heard Michael, appointed leader of the bears.
“You know Eric; he always has to put on a show of defiance. I think he is more concerned about what the woman will look like, rather than the actual ritual itself.”
“Hmm,” Michael grunted. “Then the woman the spirits choose will be exactly what he needs.”
“I hope he is ready for that,” Bradley said.
Their customs have always worked before, and the spirits never failed to guide them. He didn’t doubt they would do the same for Eric. He could only hope the man was strong enough to receive what was about to be given to him.
CHAPTER TWO
Eric stood staring ahead as Michael chanted and traced indigenous lines on his forehead with medicinal oils. He could see the smiles and nods of approval as he headed for the gallows. He wondered how he had never placed much significance on this event until now. His mind was a hollow, empty cavern at present, and he tried desperately to fill it with images of past joys and conquests. Never again could he be careless with his actions, for one wrong move could send him propelling into the arms of a woman he didn’t want to be with. Maybe he could hide out and wait it out. Perhaps there was some timeline to it that...
He felt someone nudge him then, and he snapped back to consciousness. It was over. At least for the rest of them. For him, it had only just begun.
“Don’t look so glum,” Bradley said as he slapped him on the shoulder and pulled him aside. “It isn’t as bad as you are making it out to be.”
“That depends on your definition of the word. It looks horrendous from this angle,” he said, glancing around.
“Eric, all you need to do is live your life as you always have. You have a nice office with an assistant manager position under your belt, and tons of girls to date,” Bradley said as a nostalgic air overtook him.
Eric creased his brow and ruffled Bradley’s hair. “Don’t even think about it. Eva’s a nice girl.”
“Look, I didn’t say anything,” Bradley countered in a hushed tone.
“You didn’t have to,” Eric told him. “By the way, how did you save her?”
“I work as an EMT technician on an ambulance; she just happened to be the first person I saved after the ceremony,” he told him. “I didn’t even have to look very far.” Just then Eric’s face lit up like Rudolph’s nose on Christmas Eve. “What’s that look, Eric?” Bradley asked as he saw the suspicious look on his friend’s face.
“Do you think the elders would know the difference if the save was manipulated?” he asked as he winked and walked off.
“Don’t even think about it. Life has a way of screwing us over when we least expect it. Just go about your day as usual and when it happens, it happens.”
“Easy for you to say. I don’t wish to sit and wait on fate,” Eric said as he got to the clearing and pressed the alarm button on his keychain.
“Just be careful; it could backfire,” Bradley warned.
“Aren’t I always?” Eric said as he gave him a sneaky look and backed out of the open space.
Bradley stood there watching him as his taillights disappeared in the distance. “He will adjust,” Eva said as she came upon him.
Bradley turned to her and smiled, as he brushed a wisp of hair that lingered on her forehead. He loved her, and she wasn’t a bad woman to be stuck to. She had beauty and ambition and grace. Still, he only wished he had gotten the same idea as Eric. “Come on,” he said. He slipped his hand around her shoulder, and they walked back to the reservation.
****
If there was ever a time that Eric’s senses were acute, it was at that moment when he was painfully aware of what was thrust upon him and what he needed to do to avert it. Normally he would have been speeding along, as carefree as any other twenty-five-year-old in possession of a jaguar would be, but not this time. This time he kept his eyes trained on the speedometer, going just about or below the speed limit. He even stopped at four-way signs and made turn signals, and he felt ridiculous doing it.
Eric wasn’t a by the book type of man, and he resented that he even had that assistant manager position, because people expected him to be a certain way. But the bears felt he needed a re
putable career, so they had stuck him behind a desk. He felt like a shadow of himself, and now with this new addition, he could have easily been possessed by another being.
He stopped the car in the middle of the road and screamed while banging his head on the steering wheel. When the heaving in his chest subsided, the car rolled into motion again, and he drifted off to his apartment.
A few days later and Eric was no more comfortable than the day of his ‘rite of passage’. Paranoia did not accurately describe the state of frightfulness that crippled him.
“Hello?” he barked into the receiver as he grabbed it from the cradle.
“Mr. Colburn, there is a Kimberly here to see you,” his secretary said on the other end.
“Send her in,” he said as he gulped and straightened his tie. There was no certainty that this would work, but it warranted an attempt. “Kimberly,” he said as he stood and flashed her a broad grin.
“What’s this about Eric? You aren’t usually the one calling,” she said as she sashayed into the room, her curves spanning the breadth of the space. He eyed her as she moved closer, her long black hair glistening under the fluorescent lighting. He wouldn’t have any problem calling her his own.
“I need you to do something for me,” he told her.
“You mean, that thing that I always do for you?” she asked as she traced her lips with her tongue and fingered his tie.
“Something else,” he told her. He gripped her arm and led her out of the office.
“What is wrong with you today?” she asked, skipping along. “You’re acting weird.”
“I am feeling a little weird,” he told her as he pushed the heavy glass door aside that separated them from the busy intersection not ten feet away.
“Eric, what is going on?” she asked, tugging her hand away.
He stood there looking panicked, like a drug addict looking for his next score after days of nothing. Then, without warning, he knocked her into the street. The next thing he heard were tires screeching. He charged ahead and yanked her back.