My voice was thick as I said, “It feels unbreakable. And it feels…completely right.”
Jonas and Ambrose enfolded me in a double hug, squishing me between them, while Rex just grinned at the bunch of us. “I knew you’d do it,” Ambrose said, while Jonas rolled his eyes. Titus still had a hold of my hand, and pulled me toward him. I popped out from between Ambrose and Jonas, and he brushed a chaste kiss on my lips.
“To our angel,” he whispered, joy in his eyes.
“To having a family,” I told all of them, my gaze flying to each face one by one.
Rex pulled me into his arms, bowing his head until our foreheads touched. With his arms wrapped around me, one hand gently tracing my newly minted wings, I felt totally and completely at home. Something I’d only ever wished for.
“Thank you all for finding me and bringing me home,” I said. “This is better than I’d ever imagined.” I winked at Ambrose and Jonas. “If we find three more sets of wings, we still have time to go trick-or-treating tonight.”
Where to find LA McGinnis
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ALSO BY L.A. MCGINNIS
The Banished Gods series:
Queen of Swords
The Moon
The Priestess
Death’s Daughter
The Lovers
The Tower
The World
The Mage Circle Trilogy:
Firecursed
Windcursed
Bloodcursed
About The Author
Perched on the edge of a national park, L.A. McGinnis spends her days writing sexy urban fantasies filled with brooding heroes and smart, bold heroines. A life-long fascination with mythology inspires her to weave these contemporary tales of legendary fated mates set in gritty, urban settings like New York, Chicago and London.
Sighs Matters by Lulu M Sylvian
Genre: PNR, Urban Fantasy Romance
TW: group sex
©2020 Lulu M. Sylvian
Edited by: Michelle Cooper and Kristin Anders
Sometimes the muse knows best.
About
It’s Halloween and my goals are to party, get a little buzzed, and possibly hook up with some hardbody. But my attention keeps being pulled back to a group of furries, and my friend has joined the harem around some guy dressed like an anime wet dream.
Things go from sexy hot to hot mess when I discover my friend is missing, and that furry cosplay, isn’t cosplay. Also, there’s a reason hottie anime guy is so hot, he’s an incubus.
I need to save my friend, not blow my fingers off in the process, and decide which one of these guys that keeps kissing me I want to end up with. But they do work well together. It’s going to be a tough choice.
Chapter One: Fists of Furry
Don't miss your opportunity to get a F*R*E*E book from Lulu when you reach the end of this collection. Watch for the Reader Magnets links!
A vampire, a werewolf, and a demon walk into a bar. Sounds like the beginning of a joke. But, no, not a joke, just my life. Possibly the most fucked up night of my life. And probably the best one ever.
I thought I had a good, original costume until I saw the group of furries. Three fine male bodies in skin-tight low-pile furred body suits. Pecs and upper arm muscles exposed. Boyband meets werewolf group-costume in all of their hotness. No shirts, of course. Why would they? They were already wearing fur body suits. And they were really good suits. Someone had their Ph.D. in cosplay.
They were as stereotypical as they came. The blond bad-boy wolf wore a bandana tied over his head, open vest, and heavy chains. And just to drive home the point he was biker-bad, the neck chain wasn’t gold, but a motorcycle drive chain, and he had on fingerless driving gloves to show off the claws.
The fursona heads were seamlessly put together, and had to have some heavy duty animatronics. They showed personality—each one’s features were as different as faces. Impressively, the lips and jaws moved. The Posh-Spice member of the group had darker fur, wore designer sunglasses, and a designer suit. Again no shirt, but plenty of rippling muscles. Why would any of them have on shirts? They were there to show off their gym memberships and some fine-ass costumery. The third one, another dark wolf, had to be the wholesome one, his jacket was slightly zipped, practically modest. He wore a sparkling white track suit with red stripes and had white sweat bands at his wrist. Or maybe he was the playboy tennis instructor.
“Do you see these guys?” I asked Vinyana.
I felt increasingly lame in my tossed together vampire slayer costume, based on a conglomeration of some old movies. I wore tight pants and a corset, because, of course, one must be girded to the point of bruised ribs to fight vampires. I had a crossbow strapped to my thigh. I thought I so cleverly hand crafted it from a thrift store cross, some wire coat hangers, and duct tape. Two bandoleers criss-crossed my chest, and, yes, I strategically pinned them in place. One must emphasize the girls in a costume like this. One I had filled with test tubes of vodka. Anyone who asked was told they were holy water. And the other had sharpened sticks. I might have ruined the pencil sharpener at work.
Vin turned her attention to the group in question, raked them hard up and down with an assessing gaze, and shrugged. “I didn’t think you went in for furries.”
She wore a too-tight, too-short, school girl uniform. The shirt was completely unbuttoned and tied at her waist with a red lace push-up bra. It looked like the standard store-purchased slutty Halloween wear, but it all came from her closet, and her private school upbringing. She had the body for it, so why not? She looked like a classic, underaged, teen pop princess in all of her “Hit Me Baby” glory. I bet her mother wouldn’t have kept the uniforms if she had known how Vin would be wearing them seven years later.
“I go in for hard bodies and good costumes,” I replied and took a sip of my cocktail. I had added one of the vials of vodka, for a heftier kick.
“Oh,” was all she said.
“Oh, what?” I still had my eyes on the boyband, wondering if they might break into a choreographed dance routine.
Vin tugged on my bandoleer. I looked at her. She stood like a statue, staring at something across the club. I followed her gaze, then stopped.
“Oh,” I also said.
It was a miracle that I could manage a full syllable. Across the room stood the most glorious example of manhood. I swear the heavens opened and rays of light shone down on him; a host of angels sang a chorus for his very being. He was tall. He had glorious long black hair that fell past his belt, it had to be a good wig, a very good wig. He wore layered robes, the red outermost robe had those long butterfly-like sleeves. Daggers or something—they were long and narrow—tucked into his tied sash, and he held a fan in his hand. He was the personification of every good looking ancient Chinese fantasy movie, and anime man from feudal-times.
“I saw him first,” Vin said as she launched herself across the room at the prize of the night.
Problem was she wasn’t the only one to have seen this god on Earth walk into the club. I stood there like a rank idiot and just watched as wave after wave of women approached him. Within seconds he was surrounded by his very own harem of sexy nurses, genies, and slutty cops.
Not going after the hottie dressed like an anime hero might have been the best thing I never did. He moved, carried away by his wake of admirers and my gaze drifted, then locked with a pair of piercing green eyes. The eyes blinked, and I swore they glowed. It felt as if I couldn’t break free of their hold if I wanted to, which I didn’t.
I didn’t care who or
what those eyes belonged to. I was theirs. Sucked in like an alien tractor beam. I probably would have stayed perfectly still until their owner consumed me if one of the Furry Boys hadn’t backed up into me, jostling me so that I staggered and spilled my drink down my front.
“Oh, hey. Are ya all right? Sorry, my bad.”
I stared at him as he blotted the worst of the spill from my hip with his tail. The drink had splashed along my side and down my leg. Dazed, I was aware of how considerate he was being, not handsy at all. Not too much else made it into my brain at that point.
“No, no, don’t use your tail. You don’t want to get that dirty.” I reached out for his tail, and tried to get him to stop. “Your costume,” I sighed.
The fur felt real, not fake. Damn, that was an expensive work of art, not some simple Halloween get up. He should not have been blotting up a spilled drink with it. His attention turned to my face, and I saw a sparkle in his clear amber eyes. I swear the puppetry in that mask was the bomb, because he was smiling. And I was right, he was the wholesome humble boy of the band.
He gave me another sweet wolfish grin—I was dying to know how that was even possible—and left me alone. I scanned the party looking for who those green eyes belonged to. I felt bereft of purpose without them.
I bumped and jostled my way to the dance floor. I circumnavigated the entire party, trying to catch a pair of glowing green eyes. I had no idea what the face they belonged to looked like. I didn’t know if my moment in time had been with a woman or a man, I just knew I needed to look into those eyes again.
I caught glimpses of Vin and the harem she had joined around the hottie anime guy, and I saw my furry band. Wholesome Cutie and I caught each other’s glances a few times. What did he look like under all that costuming?
“Beautiful people don’t hide behind masks.” A very proper British accent caressed my ear.
I turned, and froze.
Those eyes.
With a gulp I managed to reanimate myself long enough to focus. I was being presented with a glass of champagne. The man who presented it, the man with the eyes, hadn’t bothered with a costume. And if he had, I wasn’t familiar with the reference. I was pretty sure his black on black suit and tie, complete with black shirt, was not a costume.
He had cheekbones that would give paper cuts, and a chiseled jaw so determined that mountains moved out of his way. His skin was cool and pale, his lips ever so red. And he wore his longish black hair slicked back. It had nothing lengthwise on hottie anime man.
I nodded at the champagne flute. “No thank you. I don’t accept drinks from strangers in bars. Not unless it’s handed to me directly from the bartender, and I watched them make it.” It took a lot for me to say that. I wanted to reach out and take what he was offering. I was losing the fight against years of tactical self defense, because my arm moved on its own up towards that glass.
I was saved when he drank it himself. Tossing it back with a shrug and a cocked eyebrow. “Interesting. I should know better than to offer a drink to someone who wants to kill me.”
“Who are you?” I had no clue who he was, so why would I want him dead? Unless he was the asshole who cut me off on my commute home from work the other day. But I thought I had gotten over that, and no longer harbored road rage induced homicidal thoughts.
He reached up and stroked a knuckle down the side of my face, and around to caress the other side. “My beautiful vampire slayer, let me get you a drink.”
I was entranced by those eyes again. “Yes, champagne. How rude of me to have declined such a generous offer.”
He turned and walked away. I followed.
A strong arm around my waist whisked me away from my path.
“Ho there darlin’ you owe me a dance.”
I was suddenly face to face with the biker wolf.
“Oh? Okay.” I was confused. I couldn’t remember where I had just been, what I had just been doing. My tongue wanted champagne for some reason. This wasn’t a champagne kind of party. It wasn’t cheap beer in red plastic cups either, somewhere in between. I needed a drink, something tart and sweet.
I leaned into fur boy as we danced. “Can we go get a drink after this?”
The music had a bump and grind edge to it. Before I knew it, I was in the middle of a furry sandwich. I grooved with the biker boy, and the wholesome cutie had a hand on my hip taking up the rear. It was not a bad dance sandwich to be in, especially since I got a sample of what was hiding under Wholesome Cutie’s costume as he grinded against my ass. I got too hot. I waved my hand at my face, and thought how smart the anime guy had been to bring a fan.
“Drink?” Biker Boy asked.
I nodded.
“Lady wants a drink,” he yelled to his furpatriot.
With a hand wrapped around my arm, and another on my back, I felt properly escorted to the bar.
“What do you want?”
“Water, and a Cosmo on ice,” I replied.
Biker Boy leaned over the bar and ordered. Wholesome Cutie produced a wallet from somewhere and paid. They stood on either side of me as I drained the water, and began sipping the Cosmo. I had my own personal drink guards.
“What are your names?” I yelled over the music.
They both shook their heads. “What do you think our names should be?”
“I mean, I get it you’re like some K-pop Spice Boy Furry Band, but I can’t keep calling you Biker Boy, and Wholesome Cutie. Oh and your friend, Posh-Spice.”
They laughed, punched each other on the shoulders, and crowded in a little closer.
“You can call me Biker, that works.”
“She needs to keep calling—” Cutie shut up real quick before he said something he wasn’t supposed to. He gave a sharp nod— “him Posh, cause that’s funny as hell.”
“So I can call you Cutie?” I asked.
Biker hit him on the chest again and laughed.
“I’m not cute. Call me Goliath.”
“Isn’t that a giant?” I asked.
“I’m a giant where it counts.” He leered at me. So much for thinking him sweet and considerate.
“What should my name be then?”
I thought I heard Goliath mutter, “Bait,” under his breath. Biker punched him again.
“No real names tonight. You understand. Don’t tell anyone your real name.” Biker’s eyes were so intense.
“So you want me to tell everyone I’m Gloria Estefan?” The no real names thing was a little confusing, but okay, it could be fun.
“Only if Gloria isn’t your name.”
I swatted at his chest. “No, Gloria Estefan is a pop singer. My name is—”
A furred hand covered my mouth. My eyes went wide.
“Don’t tell us tonight. You can tell us later.”
I nodded with the hand still covering half of my face.
“I’m drunk,” I announced.
“We can tell,” Biker said.
“I’m hot as fuck, you must be dying in all that fur.” I had already been drinking, and the Cosmo had gone straight to my personal inner editor and inhibitions manager and knocked that bitch out cold. I ran my hand through the fur on Goliath’s chest. I turned and did the same to Biker Boy.
“This feels like real fur. You really go all out.”
Biker wrapped a clawed hand around my wrist and removed my hand from his chest.
“Not a good idea darlin.”
I dropped my hand with a pout. Biker wasn’t being any fun.
“Thanks for the drink fellas,” I was ready to ditch the furry twins and see what kind of fun the beautiful anime man and his harem were up to. Besides I needed to check in with Vin, it had been a while since I saw her. “I need to go find my friend.”
I pushed away from between them and stumbled directly into the arms of the green-eyed man.
“Hello again,” he purred.
“Hi,” I felt all soft and warm and fuzzy around him. Like I just wanted to drape over something and wear dark red
velvet.
“I was hoping to bump into you.” His eyebrows lifted, and the tip of his tongue flicked out and licked his lower lip.
“This is the night for things to go bump,” I flirted back.
He laughed as he slid a hand down my arm and guided me away into the depths of the club.
I twisted to wiggle my fingers in farewell to the wolves, only to see them following at a discreet distance. They could follow me like lost puppies if they wanted, but I had no plans on adopting the whole liter. I could only take one stray home at a time.
This gorgeous man led me to the back hall where he pushed me against the carpeted wall, and was on me. His cool lips nibbled at my jaw, and then my neck. His hand cupped my breast, and a finger tucked into my corset to flick at a nipple. I lifted my knee and wrapped a leg around his hip. The thickening in his crotch rubbed against the seam of my legs. I threaded my fingers into his dark hair and pulled his mouth up to mine. His mouth crushed my lips, and we consumed each other. My hips pulsed against his, and his sex ground against mine. Our clothing, the only barrier preventing us from actually having sex as we ground into each other. Frottage was the closest I was willing to get to sex in public, but it was typically never this good. He rubbed the right spots, and I moaned into his mouth. My need was for harder, faster. If he kept going I would come right here in the club, surrounded by all these strangers. I didn’t care. I wanted more of him. My tongue caught on a sharp tooth as I snaked it into his mouth.
“Ow.” I pressed my fingers against my mouth at the sharp pain of the mood killer. I stopped rocking my hips and eased him back a bit.
“I thought we were having fun?” he asked in that knee-weakening accent of his.
My finger came away with blood after I touched it to the side of my tongue. “You have ridiculously sharp teeth,” I complained as I panted.
A Cursed All Hallows' Eve Page 44