Wolfe pressed a kiss to Eric’s wet hair this time. “Hush, pet. Enjoy your bath.”
Eric
Eric shook the bowl at the pair of ferocious miniature dinosaurs, encouraging them to take their second handfuls of candy. They accepted gleefully, shouting to their waiting parents about their haul as they ran off the porch.
Eric shut the front door with a smile, ignoring Wolfe’s answering glower.
It wasn’t a real one anyway. Wolfe was putting on a show of annoyance, but he’d also been haughtily ranking all the costumes they’d seen in both originality and execution, so he couldn’t be too put out.
Not like yesterday.
It was funny, the things Wolfe got himself worked up over. His personality wasn’t neurotic by any stretch of theimagination, but Eric seemed to bring it out of him sometimes. For someone who usually knew Eric better than Eric knew himself, he could go way off base every now and then.
It always ended in hot sex, though, so it was hard to complain.
Fucking Eric in the bath had certainly seemed to help things, but Wolfe had still followed Eric down to his den and sat him on his lap afterward, insisting Eric warm his cock as he pored over various financial documents.
Eric was pretty sure Wolfe had only been pretending to read them.
Possessive bastard.
Not that Eric hadn’t enjoyed himself.
Now Eric followed Wolfe to the living room, where an old Vincent Price movie was playing, two glasses of mulled wine waiting for them on the coffee table.
Eric hoped more kids would come—the little costumes were so fucking cute—but he’d be content even if they’d seen the last of the trick-or-treaters for the evening.
He still didn’t know what Wolfe could have been worried about. So Wolfe hadn’t given Eric kids of his own. So what? They’d never been a certainty on Eric’s agenda, and in all honesty they wouldn’t fit with the strange, kinky existence he and Wolfe had created for themselves.
Eric hadn’t been upset about a lack of children yesterday, when he’d been rambling to Wolfe over bags of candy. He’d just been feeling a little sorry for the boy he’d been, and the fact that his shitty parents wouldn’t let him hoard candy like the rest of his friends.
His ridiculous psychopath had gone all nuts for nothing.
Especially since what Wolfehadgiven Eric was very real and very needed.
He’d given Eric a home.
Arealhome. One where he felt safe and secure, one where he didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than who and what he was.
And yeah, one where he occasionally got revenge-fucked in the bathtub for no reason. But everyone had their quirks, right?
Eric pressed a kiss to Wolfe’s mouth, where the scowl had already softened in the glow of Eric’s contentment. “Happy Halloween, babe.”
FOX, COLIN, AND DANE
NO MORE CLUBS
Colin
Colin sighed heavily before sipping his drink, his head throbbing in time with the club’s music.
He knew he didn’treallyhave a headache—he hadn’t had one since turning—but club music was just so fucking awful it was enough to feel like he did. On top of that, his shirt was itchy—some annoying, long-sleeved black mesh thing Soren had insisted on.
Apparently that was the price of him and Gabe showing Colin, Fox, and Dane their hunting ground the next town over from Hyde Park: Soren getting to dress Colin.
“Not that you don’t have your own style,” Soren had told him while giving him an extremely thorough once-over. “It’s even halfway decent. But I have something better in mind.” He’d leaned in close to whisper, “Drive your mates wild.”
His “something better” had included tight-as-fuck jeans and the stupid mesh shirt, plus smudging black eyeliner on Colin’s lids and slicking his blue hair back from his face.
