by Cynthia Eden
“And when a wolf finds his mate, he will do anything, and I mean anything, to protect that mate. Attacking someone else, killing a person, it would be nothing to a wolf shifter if his mate were in jeopardy.”
“But not all wolf shifters find their mates.”
“No. They don’t.” Emily leaned forward, her expression suddenly intense. “And I think that’s why the psychosis level is so high. These creatures want mates so badly, need them so desperately, and when they lose hope of finding their other halves, well, they lose control.”
Now that was damn interesting. “You’re saying the mated wolf shifters don’t have this psychotic problem.”
“No, I don’t think they do, unless their mates are threatened.” Emily shook her head, sitting back in her chair. “Of course, this is just my opinion based on, well, instinct, I guess. It’s not like I’ve conducted a study on these guys.”
“Right.” Cause wolf shifters weren’t exactly bountiful in the population.
“But my opinion is based on conversations I’ve had with other shifters,” Emily continued, her voice serious and professional. “And I truly think it would explain a great deal about the wolf shifter psyche.”
He realized there was another question he needed to ask her. “You said you were involved with a shifter once.”
“Yes.” A faint pink flush covered her cheeks.
“But the first time we met, I got the impression you didn’t like my kind too much.” He paused, long enough to make absolutely certain she kept looking in his eyes. “Or was it just me you didn’t like?”
“I-I—” She stumbled to a stop, seemingly at a loss for words. Huh. Not the usual state for the Monster Doctor.
“Which is it, Doc? Do you have a thing against all shifters or just me?”
Her eyes hardened. “Neither.” She shrugged. “It’s true, the first time we met, I was a bit…hesitant. Shifters do have a certain reputation in the supernatural world, you know. Of all the Other, shifters are the best at subterfuge, the best at manipulation. I mean, come on, you guys live your lives hiding a damn huge part of yourselves from the rest of the population.”
“And you don’t?” He kept his voice soft. “Are you telling me that you don’t trick people too? Don’t lie? Don’t hide?” They were more alike, much more than he thought she wanted to admit.
“I never said I was perfect.” She blinked, as if startled, as she said the words.
“Neither am I.”
“No.” And there were secrets in her eyes. He could see them. “But I don’t want you to be.”
He realized then that while the doc still might not trust his kind too much, might not trust him, she wanted him. He could see the hunger she felt shining in her emerald gaze.
It was a stark, burning sexual hunger that matched his.
No, she didn’t completely trust shifters. Maybe she never would. But he didn’t really give a shit about her feelings for the rest of his kind. All that mattered was how she felt about him, and maybe, just maybe, she could come to trust him.
No more games. “I want you.” Blunt. Hard.
She swallowed. “I-I know.”
He reached for her hand. Reveled in the feel of her satiny smooth skin against his. “You want me.”
Emily nodded. Her nipples were poking against the front of her dress, and he could smell the sweet scent of her woman’s cream in the air.
Yeah, the doc wanted him.
Now, if he could just get her to trust him.
She rose from the table, carrying her glass to the sink. His gaze dropped to her legs, the long, bare expanse of skin that he itched to touch. She was wearing a pair of small, strappy shoes. Black.
“W-why don’t we go into the den?”
He’d rather go into her bedroom, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Wasn’t that the way the old saying went? And after his nice fuckup from earlier, he was definitely still feeling like a beggar.
Colin stood slowly and followed Emily from the room. He admired the nice sway of her ass. Oh, but the doc had a nice ass. Firm. Tight. Just perfect for his hands.
Emily paused in the hallway and glanced back at him. He didn’t bother to hide the lust on his face. Hell, he’d just told her how he felt and she’d admitted to the same hungry desire.
No more games. The thought filled his mind once again as he snagged her wrist, pulling her back against him. And then took her mouth.
A faint moan rumbled in her throat and her lips parted for him. God, yes, but she tasted good. He couldn’t tell the difference between the wine and the woman, but he knew he had to have more of that sweet taste.
His tongue stabbed deep into her mouth, and his hands cupped the curve of her ass. He pulled her against his arousal, rocking his erection against her.
Her scent was thick in the air around them. A heady, tempting scent that stirred the beast within him.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. She didn’t try to push him away. She pulled him closer.
The time for play was definitely over.
He needed her, under him, naked, and ready.
Now.
He couldn’t be a gentleman. Wasn’t in his blood.
He swirled his tongue over hers. Lightly bit her lip. Then Colin forced his head to lift. “If you don’t want this,” me, “then you’d better say so now, Emily.” While he could still stop.
Passion filled her eyes. A sort of dazed, wild lust. The controlled doctor was gone.
“I-I—” She shook her head.
His teeth clenched. His body stilled. His cock was swollen with hunger, thick and hard with need.
But she was saying no.
What did you expect? Mentally he berated himself. Last night, she told you it was too soon. You’re rushing her. You’ve got to take more time, more care with her.
His hands lifted. He wondered if Emily would mind if he used her bathroom. Cause if he was gonna get through the night, he’d need a very cold shower.
And possibly a hand job.
“No.” Emily grabbed his hands. “I don’t want you to stop.”
Dr. Drake wasn’t alone.
He watched the house from his spot in the bushes. He’d been outside, watching, waiting for the last two hours.
He’d seen the guy arrive, the big, mean-looking bastard that had nearly caught him that first night. He’d held his breath when the guy jumped out of his Jeep.
He still wasn’t sure how the man had figured out that he’d been hiding in the lot that night, and he’d been afraid the guy might pick up on his presence again.
But, no, the guy had stormed up the front steps, pounded on the door. Then disappeared inside.
What was the cop’s angle? He’d have to find out. He couldn’t take any risks with this situation.
The fellow could be a friend, a lover, a client. But he needed to know.
Had to know everything about Dr. Drake.
“You’re safe another night,” he whispered, knowing that he couldn’t approach her with anyone else around. No, that wasn’t the plan.
He had to catch her alone.
And he would. It was just a matter of time.
“Don’t say yes if you don’t mean it.” Colin’s body had stiffened against hers. “I’m trying as hard as I can to be the gentleman you wanted, but don’t push me, Doc. There’s only so much a man can take.”
And there was only so much a woman could take. Only so many lonely, empty nights. Damn but she was tired of being afraid, tired of hiding herself away from life, from passion. “I don’t want to play it safe anymore.” And she didn’t, Emily realized. She’d tried playing it safe before. Tried for the last ten years.
She’d done a hell of a lot of thinking since she’d met with Colin that morning. She’d realized she was treating him exactly as she’d treated Travis. She’d never let her guard down with him, never trusted him fully. She’d kept waiting, kept thinking there would be some perfect moment when she could reveal her secrets to him.
>
But that perfect moment had never come. Travis had left her, she’d kept playing it safe, and she’d finally come to the conclusion that safety, well, it was boring.
She wanted excitement. She wanted life. She wanted…Colin.
Besides, Colin already knew her secrets, most of them anyway. And he didn’t think she was some kind of freak just because she had a little extra psychic sensitivity. No, he didn’t treat her like a freak.
He treated her like a woman. His woman.
And she liked that, liked it a lot.
So Ms. Six-Date-Rule took off her glasses, tossed them onto a nearby table, and decided to take a risk. Staring up into Colin’s glittering eyes, she said softly, clearly, “I want to be with you tonight.”
“Emily…”
Her stomach clenched at the raw need in his voice. No one had ever said her name with such hunger.
“Emily, I’m not like the men you’ve been with before.”
Thank God. She stood directly in front of him, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew he wasn’t like the others. There was a wild, dominant sensuality about him that none of her other lovers had ever possessed.
“I won’t be able to take things slow. Not the first time.”
The first time. Her sex clenched. Just how many times was he planning for? “I don’t want you to go slow.” Slow wasn’t a word she associated with him. She wanted hard and fast. She wanted screaming pleasure and mad passion.
She wanted everything.
A muscle ticked along his jaw. He glanced down the hallway. “Which one’s the bedroom?”
Her fingers lifted, pointed to the second door.
A feral smile curved his lips, showing just the slightest hint of fang.
The sight had scared her before. Given her pause.
Now, it just heightened her excitement.
I’m not like the men you’ve known before. Her panties were already wet in eager anticipation.
Colin picked her up, carrying her easily into the bedroom. She’d left a lamp on earlier, and a soft glow of light illuminated the room. He tossed her onto the bed and her dress hiked up around her thighs.
His eyes narrowed at the sight of her sprawled legs, and before she could move, he was on her. Crawling onto the bed, onto her, shoving her legs even wider apart, and stroking his long, strong fingers up the length of her thighs.
She jumped at the touch of his warm hands.
“Easy, baby, I just want to feel you.” He inhaled. “God, I love the smell of your cream.” Then his fingers were on the crotch of her panties, stroking, rubbing.
Emily bit her lip, her body twisting against his. Oh, damn, but his fingers felt good. But she wanted more, needed—
He jerked her panties off, ripping the delicate silk. Then those fingers were on her sex, opening her, sliding between her wet folds and thrumming her clit.
Her head thrashed against the pillows. Her orgasm was building, her sex tightening, tightening—
Colin drove two fingers into her.
She came, shuddering, gasping his name.
“Ah, yes, Emily. Damn, you’re so fucking sexy.”
She was dazed, the drumming beat of her heart filling her ears. She’d never come that quickly, not with just a few touches.
“I want to taste you.”
Her body was still trembling, her sex quivering with aftershocks of pleasure. His fingers were inside her, stroking, pulling out, thrusting deep in a maddening rhythm that made the need start to burn again.
It took a moment for his words to register, took a moment for her to realize what he—
Colin pulled his fingers out of her, brought them to his lips. Watching her, keeping his bright stare trained on her, he brought his hand to his mouth. And licked her cream from his fingers.
He smiled at her. “I want more.”
So did she. More of him.
But he was still dressed. Still wearing far, far too many clothes. “Colin—”
His head lowered, and she felt his warm breath against her sex.
Every muscle in her body quivered in anticipation. She wanted his mouth on her. Wanted to feel that clever, rough tongue.
His tongue licked her labia. A slow, wet lick that had her arching off the bed, her high heels digging into the mattress.
He growled at her movement, and the rumble of vibration shot straight to her core.
Her thighs tightened around his shoulders. Her fingers were in his hair, urging him closer.
Another slow swipe of his tongue, then he licked her clit. Then again, harder.
“C-Colin…” A second orgasm was close. Her body was fighting, struggling to come again.
His tongue stabbed deep into her sex and his fingers pushed against her clit.
Her hips bucked against him.
The orgasm was coming, oh God, she was—
“Not yet, baby, not yet.” He pulled back, and the hiss of his zipper filled the air. “Not without me this time.”
Something ripped in the darkness. Plastic. Condom wrapper. The shifter had come prepared.
Then his hands were on her again. Opening the folds of her sex, and she felt the broad, hard tip of his cock against her.
Too late, a shiver of apprehension swept through her.
“Colin, I—”
His hands were on her shoulders. His fingers sliding under the straps of her dress.
“I fantasized about you all through dinner,” he whispered.
And she’d been fantasizing about him since last night.
“I thought about your nipples.” He pulled on the straps, and the delicate material broke apart. “I wanted to see them.” He pushed down the top of her dress. “Touch them.” His fingers plucked her nipples, and she arched upward with a gasp. “Taste them.” His head lowered and his mouth closed around her nipple, sucking strongly.
The faint edge of his teeth pressed against her, not pain…oh no, not pain. Pleasure.
No more fear. Only need.
While he tongued one breast, his hands tormented the other. Squeezing, rubbing, driving her mad with a hunger and voracious need that just built and built.
She squirmed against him, trying to impale herself on the thick cock that was lodged at the mouth of her sex. She wanted him inside. Deep inside. She was so close to climaxing again. So close. She needed him to fill her.
Her fingers curved over his hips, felt the rough touch of his jeans, and she shoved the heavy material down. She gripped his hips, feeling the hot skin against her. And she tightened her hold around him, urging him forward.
Colin lifted his head, his lips glistening with moisture, and laughed, but it was a tight, rough sound. “Impatient, are you?”
Hell, yes, she was impatient. Her body was yearning, needing, and sweet release was just one good thrust away.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. Two could play this game.
Her fingers trailed over his hip bones, skated down his abdomen, and found the dark nest of hair at his thighs.
He inhaled sharply at her touch, and she saw his nostrils flare even as he tensed against her.
Her fingers curled over the base of his erection, stroked slowly, squeezing him, moving from root to the tip that was pushing against her core.
His hands flashed out, grabbed her wrists, and pinned her hands to the bed. A growl sounded in his throat.
His eyes were burning with lust, and she knew she wouldn’t have to wait any longer.
His mouth crashed onto hers, his tongue thrusting past her lips—
And he buried his cock balls deep in her body.
Emily came immediately, her body pulsing, shaking, squeezing tightly around his thick length as a wave of intense, God-yes pleasure rocked over her. And still he thrust into her—deep, hard thrusts that shook the bed, that shook her.
His fingers were clenched around her wrists, his hips hammering against hers. He was wild, completely out of control as he took her.
And she loved it.
Loved it.
His head lifted, and she caught the gleam of a fang, then his mouth was lowering toward her throat.
Her breath choked out. Her heart slammed against her breast, and her legs locked even tighter around his thrusting hips.
“I love the way you feel when you come,” he whispered, “love the way you squeeze me. Love the tight, hot clasp of your sex.”
His words wrapped around her, fed the orgasm that was still spinning through her.
His cock was rock hard, so big that she felt deliciously stretched. Long, warm, perfect.
She was riding an endless wave of release. It’d never been like this before, never and—
He bit her. Used those long canines in a bite on her neck that had her crying out in surprise and arching in shocked pleasure.
“Mine.” His head lifted and his eyes glowed with a fierce blue fire. His cock drove into her, once, twice, then he was shuddering, stiffening, throwing back his head and gritting his teeth with the force of his release.
When it was over, when his hips stilled, when the tingling pleasure finally faded, Colin draped his body over hers. Freed her wrists, then took her hands and twined his fingers with hers.
Colin kissed her. A long, wet, open-mouthed kiss.
I’m not like the other men you’ve known.
Oh, but the man had certainly spoken the truth.
And, after having him, she was very much afraid that no other man would do for her again.
Chapter 9
Emily stood behind the podium, leaning forward slightly to pitch her voice into the microphone. A sea of cameras and bright lights stared back at her.
“After reviewing the case files, I’ve come to the conclusion that the perpetrator did, indeed, know the victim. This wasn’t a random crime. Preston Myers was specifically targeted.”
“Dr. Drake!” A thin Asian man raised his hand. “Lee Nguyen of the Atlanta Metro Daily.” He paused, apparently letting her absorb that little nugget of information. “Will the Night Butcher strike again? Are there others who will be ‘specifically targeted’?” He stared up at her, his head cocked, his photographer snapping shots right beside him.
Emily slanted a quick glance at Danny. She’d told the captain her belief that the killer would, indeed, strike again, but he and the district attorney had told her not to share that information with the reporters.
