by Cynthia Sax
He yells my name as he finds release, propelling his hips so far forward I’m airborne, my ass clear off the couch. That’s okay ’cause he’s holding onto me as though I’m the last pancake and he hasn’t eaten for an hour. He smacks my ass back into place. It stings, the shocking action drawing a last set of tremors from me. That’s it though. I’m done. My head flops forward and connects with his shiny metal badge. What the… I look up, dazed. It is only now that I realize he’s still partially in uniform. I smile. I do adore my bad boy officer.
07 Drake’s Blog
I sit in the police cruiser, looking down the street. It is my street, nestled in a tough part of town I call home, sweet home. Hunny is so close, I can almost smell her, and my gut says something is wrong. She could be in danger. I consider driving by the apartment for a look-see.
“She’ll be okay, Drake.” Wright reads my mind. “Sarge is with her. He won’t let Fox get to her.”
“Sarge? He can’t protect his own ass.” We both know I don’t mean that. Sarge would give up his life for me. Friends like that are rare. I shouldn’t second guess their abilities. I ignore my gut and drive in the opposite direction toward the children’s hospital.
Chief decided not to evacuate. I told him he was making a mistake. I also, in the heat of the argument, called him a jackass. Neither was good for my career. I don’t care. If kids die tonight, I’ll never forgive myself. My knuckles ache from gripping the steering wheel.
I pull into the crowded parking lot. It must be flu season. The lot is filled with shiny black cars. Some of these are patrol vehicles but most aren’t ours.
My yelling might have done some good because Chief relented on the staffing. Along with Wright and myself, the off duty cops have been called in to help protect the hospital. Losing precious time off will make my fellow officers very unhappy with me. They’ll be even more pissed when they hear the odds of survival. If the vamps show up in force, we’re dead men walking.
“Whoa, did you see that?” Wright’s head whips around. “Two people are fucking like rabbits against the streetlight. Outside a children’s hospital. Now that’s horny.” He slaps the dash, as tickled as a two-year-old.
“Do you have your shit in order, Wright?” I ignore his observation. Tonight we might all die. That’s some serious shit.
This question earns me a sharp glance. “You think we might lose?”
I get out of the car, preparing to do a walkabout. I have to figure out where to position our men. The area isn’t secure. There are windows and doors everywhere. “We’re good, but we don’t have the numbers. Even I can’t take five vamps at the same time.” Three is my max. And the vamps won’t be sloppy. They’ll be organized. All that thought-sharing shit is a bitch to deal with.
I smell rabbit. I brush my fingers against my nose. It could be me. Knowing I might not live through the night, I had spent every spare second I could fucking Hunny. I left her in a semi-comatose state back at the apartment.
I sniff the night air. No. I smell rabbit everywhere, strange rabbit. We turn the corner. A man dressed all in black is standing, arms crossed, in front of a limousine. He is short and round but mean-looking. He’s not a man to mess with.
“Officer Drake?” Fuck, he would be waiting for me. “The boss would like to have a word with you.” He opens a car door.
I glance at Wright. He shakes his head. No shit, getting into the car is a bad idea. Forms detach from the darkness. I don’t have a choice. We’re surrounded. “Make sure the limo doesn’t move,” I tell my partner. I enter the vehicle.
A well-dressed man is examining an array of guns spread out on the leather seat. I sit across from him. He turns his head, taking off his sunglasses to look me over thoroughly. Something about his eyes strikes me as familiar.
“Drake.” His voice is deep. His accent is French. “You may call me Uncle Flopsy.” Uncle Flopsy? What kind of ridiculous name is that? It is hellishly difficult to keep a straight face, but I manage it because I am very fond of breathing. “I understand from Hunny you need the family’s help.” He extends his ringed fingers.
Does he expect me to kiss them? Mafia rabbit or not, I don’t make those pansy moves. I shake his hand instead. His grip is solid. “Thank you.” I’m always polite to people with more firepower than me. “But I have the situation under control.”
He snorts. “Five hundred vampires against fifty cops is under control?” Five hundred vampires. Shit. This is suicide.
Hunny’s uncle picks up a bullet. It glows blue. “Liquid sunlight,” he explains as though I’ve never hunted vamps before. I have. I’ve staked. I’ve shot. I’m a bad ass, remember? This relative of Hunny’s scares the shit out of me though.
He slides the bullet into a revolver, spinning the cylinder. “Normally I look the other way at Fox’s dealings. They are beneath me.” The shifter wrinkles up his button nose. “But this time, he’s messed with the wrong rabbit. No one endangers a member of my family.” By the way he’s holding my gaze, I know he’s making a point. If I didn’t love Hunny, I’d walk, no, run the other way. “I can lend you three hundred experienced vamp hunters, thirty-three tourists.” He winces. “I apologize for the thirty-three, but I have to train them somehow, understand.”
Hunny has three hundred and thirty-three relatives. My jaw drops. She’d mentioned family but before now, I hadn’t understood the full extent of it.
My surprise amuses the uncle. He laughs. “We’re rabbit shifters, Drake. Welcome to the family.”
08 Hunny’s Blog
The prison guard turns the hose on the naked inmate. Water sloshes down his wide shoulders, tracing his spine, and drips between tightly clenched ass cheeks. “Against the wall.” The guard’s voice is gruff. “And spread them.”
The prisoner, a large black man, faces away from the camera, his fingers splayed over the gleaming white tile. His skin glistens with moisture. He is one hunk of a man. My pussy grows wet.
“I said spread them.” The fully-clothed guard kicks the inmate’s feet apart, widening his stance. His balls hang down between his legs. His cock doesn’t. It is fully erect, seven and a half inches of glorious man meat. The prisoner’s ass is tilted up.
The guard spreads those ass cheeks. The camera zooms in on the puckered hole. Pants are unzipped and fall to the guard’s ankles. He is also hard and equally well equipped. There is a close up as that white cock slams into the dark hole. Bodies slap together. The inmate’s ass is brutally ravaged. He doesn’t seem to mind, moaning loudly, pushing back in order to take the guard deeper.
I shift on the couch, imagining that Drake is the guard and I’m the one he’s taking up against the wall. It is a fantasy I should be indulging in private. I don’t have privacy. I’m not alone in the room.
Sarge watches the man-on-man action from his seat at the other end of the couch. This movie is very different from the horror flick I watched last night with Drake’s other friend. I suspect that’s because Sarge has different tastes in areas other than movies. The bowl of popcorn in his lap presses against an erection. I’m not the only one turned on.
“Is that how it is in prison?” I ask softly. That was his excuse for this film. He framed it as an educational look at the prison system.
“Oh, yes.” Sarge sounds wistful. “Sometimes…” The inmate turns around and Sarge stops talking. I stop thinking. The man has an impressive hard-on. The guard drops to his knees, the floor now mysteriously dry, and takes that black cock into his mouth. No one knows a cock like another man. Watching these men go at it, I learn a few new things to try on Drake.
“How many prisoners have you subdued that way, Sarge?” The devil in me makes me ask this. I don’t really want to know the answer.
“None! Me? Hell no!” he yells, his face red. There’s an awkward pause. “You don’t think I’m gay, do you?” Sarge sounds hurt, like being gay is a death sentence or something.
“No, of course not,” I lie. Sure you’re not gay, sweetheart. Mo
st straight men watch man-on-man porn in their spare time.
“Good because I’m not.” Sarge stands, the bowl held in front of his crotch. “I have to take a leak.” He hurries to the bathroom, taking the bowl with him. I make a mental note to discard the remaining popcorn. I’m not a fan of that brand of special seasoning. I turn to a music channel, increasing the volume to give him some privacy.
“That is most considerate of you.”
I start at the distinctive voice. Krag Fox stands in the doorway, dressed all in black, his trench coat swirling around him. Fear sizzles through my body. How did he get in? “Mr. Fox.”
“It’s time to go.” Two of his henchmen appear behind him. “I trust you’ve enjoyed your stay?” Krag is all consideration.
“I have. In fact, I would prefer to remain here.” If I leave with him, I’m dead.
“I’m sure you would.” A smile creeps across his pale face. Krag Fox is a handsome man, but then, I don’t know that many ugly vampires. “It was kind of Drake to take care of you for me. I should do something in return for him, don’t you think?”
“Like what?” I stand.
“Relieve him of his pitiful human existence, of course.” Krag’s eyes glow red. “It will be a small compensation for the plans you’ve heedlessly scuttled.” He straightens his cuffs. He is old school, wearing black onyx cufflinks. “You’ve been a very naughty bunny, Hunny.” His anger rolls through the air.
I’m in big, big trouble.
09 Drake’s Blog
I go through four clips before the vamps slow. Wright is to my left, dropping them like flies or, in this case, bats. Neither of us can keep up to Uncle Flopsy. He’s on my right, his left foot thumping with each shot. Hunny’s feet thump when she’s turned on. I guess her Uncle Flopsy must get off on killing the undead. He’s certainly skilled at the task, icing vamps like no one I’ve ever seen.
We’ve formed a circle around the hospital. Uncle Flopsy is true to his word. His shifters follow our orders without any backchat, reporting to the police stationed at even intervals. I have new respect for shifters, bunny shifters, that is. The rest of them clearly can’t be trusted.
“This has been a pleasant evening.” Uncle Flopsy holsters his gun. He appears disappointed that the killing is over so quickly. “Any time you want me to kill off more rivals, let me know. Hunny has my number.” He shakes my hand.
“Thank you.” That is sincere gratitude, not sarcasm. Wright shakes Uncle Flopsy’s hand too, looking shell-shocked like he can’t believe we survived. We wouldn’t have survived without the rabbit shifters. One big bunny swaggers by with a female wrapped around his waist. She’s giving his ear a victory lick.
I know what that does to rabbit shifters. Our vamp-fighting team disperses. I look forward to licking Hunny’s ears once I wrap up here. That won’t be soon. I have paperwork to do. It comes with killing a few hundred vampires in the middle of the city.
It is easier to fill out the paperwork on site. Usually this is unpleasant with the blood and guts and gore. Not so tonight. There are no dead bodies to clean up. That’s one nice thing about vampires. They burn into ash. I’m on my third stack of forms when a breeze lifts the papers. It is the first hint of a wind this evening. I look up. I have the creepy sensation I’m being watched.
“Bravo. I’m impressed.”
I am being watched. Damn it. I recognize that voice. I pull my gun. How come I didn’t smell him coming? Then Fox steps out of the shadows, and I know why. He has a gun pressed to my sweet Hunny’s forehead. Her scent has lingered around me like a comforting blanket all night.
Hunny’s eyes are wide with fear, and a red killing haze threatens to overwhelm me. I can’t allow that. One mistake and the love of my life is dead. “You promised me you’d stay in the apartment, Hunny.”
She blinks. Her cheeks flush. “Plans change, Drake.” Good, she’s thinking. I’ll need her help to get us out of this. “How is work?”
“I had a better night than some.” I shrug. “You’ll require some new recruits, Fox.” Five hundred vampires dead will put a dent in his future plans.
“Are you volunteering, Officer Drake?” Red eyes glint.
He would like that, the bastard. “I’d stake my own self before that happens.” I aim right between his eyes, my finger itching to squeeze the trigger. I can’t. He is a vampire. They have lightning fast reflexes. He’ll kill Hunny before the bullet reaches him.
“But would you stake your girlfriend, I wonder? Hmmm…” I don’t like the contemplation on that pale face. “I considered killing her, slowly and painfully. Where’s the fun in that? No, it would be more interesting to turn her.” His fangs elongate. Hunny trembles.
I want to kill the bastard. I will kill the bastard. I circle him slowly, looking for an opening. “You’d create a vampire bunny? Aren’t you scared of her animal nature, Fox?” I drop hints like bombs. “The second you’re not paying attention, she could turn on you.”
“I create her; I control her.” The vampire tsk-tsks. “You kill us, yet you don’t understand us. Shame on you, Officer Drake.”
I understand vampires quite well. They think of themselves as more evolved than the rest of us. They constantly misjudge humans. Fox has misjudged me. All I need now is a distraction.
“Drake, you’re going to kick my ass, but I lost --” Sarge, that incompetent jackass, supplies it.
Fox’s eyes flick in Sarge’s direction for only a second. That is all we need. Hunny shifts. I shoot. Fox squeezes a shot off too. My aim is bang on. I pop him in the forehead. He glares at me like he can’t believe he’s been shot. The hole expands, a bright beacon shining from it, until the entire parking lot lights up. Poof. He’s ash.
Hunny’s caramel-colored body lays on top of that gray ash. Sarge reaches her first. “Hands off my rabbit,” I holler. No one touches her but me.
She’s not moving. My heart stops beating. I feel dizzy. I drop to my knees, the force cracking the pavement. Pain shoots up my legs. “Hunny,” I whimper. I don’t care that I sound like a sissy. I feel like a sissy. My woman, my love, she’s not moving.
“What the hell?” Wright, my missing-in-action partner, runs toward us. I pay him no attention. I have a bunny down.
I scoop her up. I feel her tremble, her soft fur rubbing against my palm. “Hunny buns, have you been shot?” I run my fingers through her fur, searching for damage. There’s nothing. “Hunny, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” I touch her cold nose with mine. She twitches. Her eyes open. “Thank the good --”
“Hey man, you know we have your back, but if you kiss the rabbit, I’m out of here.” Wright looks at me as though I’m some sort of sick pervert.
“She’s a shifter.” Why am I offering him an explanation? The dumb ass knows this.
“I don’t care if she’s the magic orgasm fairy.” My partner is puffing like a pack-a-day smoker. He must have run from the other side of the building. “Over the years, we’ve seen some sick shit. I draw the line at bestiality. Follow Sarge’s example and pet your rabbit in the privacy of your own home.”
That comment draws some cussing from Sarge. While they’re distracted, I do the unthinkable and buss my bunny.
10 Hunny’s Blog
“Freeze or I’ll shoot.” Officer Drake stands, his feet braced apart, his imaginary gun in hand. He is in full uniform, looking extremely powerful and overwhelmingly sexy.
I’m at a disadvantage, being naked and unarmed. “You’ll never take me alive.” I sprint as fast as I can toward the bedroom doorway.
I’m not fast enough. I’m caught and flung face first against the wall. I raise an arm to protect myself. The plaster cracks with the impact. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Drake sounds worried.
“No,” I gasp out once I recover my breath. I’m not hurt. I’m aroused. “No delicate flower, remember?” I like it rough. “Besides I’m resisting arrest.” I wiggle, peeking over my shoulder, giving him my best come hither look.
; “Right.” His black eyes gleam. “We can’t have that.” He bends my arm behind my back, pressing my cheekbone against the wall. “Spread ’em, scumbag.” He kicks my feet apart. Both my pussy and my ass are exposed. Which will he subdue this time? I grow wet. Drake is skilled at subduing. He’s proof that a life of crime does pay.
“I didn’t do anything, officer,” I plea. He releases my arm. I place my palms above me on the wall. “This has been a big misunderstanding.”
“Silence.” His police baton whacks against skin as he paces behind me, his boots heavy on the hardwood. “You have the right to remain sexy.” That baton slides between my ass cheeks. It is cool and hard. I shiver. “Anything you pant or moan can be used to make you come.” He slowly pushes the thick stick into my hot pussy. I instinctively pull away. A strong hand on my hip prevents me from moving far.
The baton slides in deeper. “What about my right to have a lawyer present?” I tilt my hips so my clit rubs against the rubber. It is a special baton Drake ordered for me. It feels so good.
He pumps me with it. I pant to the rhythm, my pussy humming happily. “Fuck the lawyer.” Drake leans close, kissing the nape of my neck. His manly scent tickles my nose. The baton is lodged inside of me. His erect fabric-covered cock presses into my right ass cheek.
“Yes, Officer Drake.” He is right. The lawyer scenario is role-playing for another day. Right now, I prefer to fuck my policeman. He works me over with the baton until I am gritting my teeth, trying not to come.
Then he stops, damn him. He unzips, the sound loud in the silent room. Fabric swishes to the floor. There is a juicy pop as the baton is removed. I whimper. I feel so empty. “You are my detainee.” His cockhead, broad and wide, prods between my pussy lips. “Mine.” He lifts me off the floor as he thrusts. I scream with shock and joy and carnal passion. I’m full again, his cockhead tapping my cervix.