Chapter Nine
Charlie was gasping for air when he released her lips and dragged his mouth downward, placing sucking bites on her throat, nudging her blouse aside to nuzzle the tops of her breasts and the cleft between them.
The sound of ripping fabric barely penetrated the fog. Briefly, irritation surfaced as she felt his hand on her bare thigh and realized he’d ripped the crotch of her pantyhose, but she forgot it in the next instant as he brushed the wedge of fabric between her legs aside and ran his finger along her hot, moist cleft, then delved inside of her.
He groaned against her throat. "You’re so hot for me, baby. So wet."
"Yes," she gasped mindlessly.
Her heart thundered against her chest as she heard him slide his zipper down. She tensed, wading for the probing touch of his cock. A shudder went through her when she felt him, felt the mouth of her sex stretching. He caught her shoulder, pushing, using her weight and gravity to help him work his way deeply inside of her. She almost climaxed when he struck bottom. Panting, trying desperately to hold it at bay for just a few moments more, she leaned down and bit his shoulder. Steadying her, he pulled away and thrust again. She tightened her arms and legs around him, trying to move with him, to counter his thrusts. He slipped his arms around her, shielding her from the wall as he began pounding into her hard and fast.
She buried her face against his neck, uttering little, gasping cries as her climax rocked her. He jerked, shuddered as he found his own release.
For several moments, they remained where they were, Charlie draped weakly over him, her thighs quivering with the effort to hold on, Greywolf leaning weakly against the wall, struggling for air.
Finally, he stood away from the wall, hefted her and headed for her bedroom. She gave up the effort to hold on as he lowered her to the bed, collapsing gratefully. He moved to the other side and sat down, nudging his boots off, tugging his socks off and tossing them down, struggling out of his shirt. Finally, he stood up and stripped his jeans and shorts off.
She was half asleep when he pulled the covers back and climbed in beside her, but still awake enough to complain when he began removing her clothes. Weakly, she pushed his hands away. He ignored her, stripping her naked and then dragging the covers from beneath her.
The heat of his mouth on her breast roused her. "No," she muttered plaintively. "Can’t."
He chuckled, but ignored her weak protest, sucking her nipple lazily until she felt fire pouring through her veins once more. When he’d kissed and tasted her with his tongue from neck to thigh, setting her on fire for him, he shifted, pushing her legs apart and settling between them. His cock seemed to find its own way home, nudging against her and then gliding deeply inside, aided by the slick juices from before and her arousal from his kisses. To her surprise, she found herself climbing toward release even as he began moving slowly in and out of her. Gasping, she tightened her arms around him. She dug her heels into the bed, rising up to meet each thrust, striving to meet the promised ecstasy, crying out sharply as it caught her up in a wave that jolted through her entire body.
The complete absence of tension, the inability even to think, was pure bliss. Charlie couldn’t even find it in her to protest when he collapsed half on top of her, pinning her to the bed with a tree trunk of a leg and arm. She was just drifting to sleep when he slapped her ass soundly, jerking her wide awake.
"Let’s grab a shower."
She closed her eyes again, grunted irritably, but he dragged her out of the bed anyway and into the bathroom. Grabbing her shower cap, he pulled it down over her head, stuffed her hair into it and shoved her under the steaming hot shower. The water revived her somewhat. He came up behind her, lathering her breasts, massaging them, then slipping his hand down between her thighs.
She groaned, half in protest, and partly because she just couldn’t help herself. Pushing her against the glass door, he nudged her from behind.
Charlie stiffened. "There is no way you’re shoving that ... pole ... up my ass, buster!"
He chuckled, slipping his rock hard, fully erect cock between her thighs, bending down to bite the side of her neck.
Christ! He was insatiable, she thought with a touch of panic. He must be nearly thirty. Wasn’t that too old to have this kind of stamina?
She quickly found, however, that she could no more resist his teasing caresses than she could stop breathing. Within minutes, he brought her to another shattering climax.
Her thighs were quivering so badly, she barely made it back to the bed and crawled in. He slid in beside her, threw one arm and one leg over her and promptly fell asleep. Charlie’s last thought just before she lost consciousness was that he could easily become addictive.
She was almost as tired when she woke the following morning as she had been when she’d fallen into the bed. She wasn’t used to sharing her bed, particularly not with anyone as big, and sprawling, as John Greywolf. He’d spent most of the night draped over her. He was still draped over her.
She was afraid to move. At the moment, his cock lay dormant, but she knew from experience that it didn’t take much to arouse the beast. Irritation filled her as she realized that she hadn’t even invited him. Holding him back was like bracing oneself against the tide, he just washed over you like you weren’t even there.
She did hate confrontations, but it was easy to see that he’d decided she was his current lay and he wasn’t going to be discouraged easily.
So, maybe she’d given him plenty of reason to believe she found him irresistible ... because, in point of fact, she did. There was no room in her life for a relationship, however. Relationships, even short term ones, took work and time and she couldn’t spare it.
And then there was the inescapable fact that he was a player. It was all very well for women to talk about using even as they were used, but that didn’t work for her. She didn’t want to use anybody just to scratch her itch, and she didn’t want to be used that way either. She would become attached—it didn’t take any imagination at all to see that she would—and then he’d break her heart, because men like Greywolf had all the women they could handle and found no reason at all to limit their diet.
It had distressed her to see all the women drooling over him the night before at the restaurant. She wasn’t about to let herself get caught up in the fantasy/hope that he would settle on her and never stray. She’d be an emotional wreck in no time at all, worrying, eaten up with jealousy, broken hearted the moment she discovered her worst fears had been realized and he’d found another woman that was irresistible.
The moment she felt him stir, she rolled out of the bed and hit the floor, snatching a suit from the rack in the closet and heading for the bathroom. "There’re breakfast bars in the cabinet in the kitchen, if you’re interested," she called back to him as she slammed and locked the door.
She had no underwear, she realized in consternation.
She was also occupying the only bathroom, and he would probably need to use it.
She wasn’t about to leave the bathroom naked.
Heaving a long suffering sigh, she dressed without her underclothes. She could put them on while he was in the bathroom, she decided.
He was propped up in the bed, grinning at her lazily when she left the bathroom.
"Forget something?"
He looked good enough to lick.
She decided to ignore him. "Bathroom’s available," she said brightly.
He studied her a long moment and finally took the hint. The moment the door closed, she snatched a pair of panties from her drawer and pulled them on. Dragging a bra out, she decided just to stuff it in her purse. She could put it on when she got to work.
She was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when he came out ... naked.
It took an effort to refrain from staring at him. She concentrated on raking the knots out of her hair and binding it with a hair thingy in a pony tail at the back of her head. It wasn’t a particularly attractive way to wear her h
air, but she was supposed to look professional. Fancy hair styles didn’t really go with the job. She couldn’t be fussing with her hair all day. "I’m running a little late."
He sat down and put his socks on. "Running period," he muttered.
She stiffened, but decided to ignore that, too.
She was standing by the front door, glancing nervously at her watch when he sauntered out of the bedroom with that lazy, long-legged gait of his that made her stomach muscles clench. How could a man just walk and be sexy? She wondered a little distractedly.
Neither of them said anything as she made the drive to the office. Instead of getting out when she pulled alongside his truck, however, he turned and looked at her.
"We’re double parked."
"So. Go ahead and park."
She’d hoped, since he hadn’t said anything, that he was going to make things easy for her. She saw now that he had no intention of it. Feeling a combination of irritation and pure fear, she drove to the parking garage and parked.
"What’s the deal here?"
She let out a deep sigh of anxiety. "There’s no point in lying. I find you very attractive. And I enjoyed the time we spent together …."
"But you want to leave it at that?"
She felt the sudden urge to cry, but resolutely squelched it. "I think it would be for the best, yes."
"For me? Or for you?"
She glanced at him. "You’ve got women falling all over themselves for your attention—I just don’t want to get caught in the stampede, OK?"
His lips tightened into a thin line. "Sure," he finally said. "No problem."
He got out of the car abruptly and strode away. Charlie watched him, feeling suddenly as if she’d made a terrible mistake.
Finally, she dragged in a deep, shuttering breath. She had. She was already far more deeply attached to him than she’d realized. It hurt. She’d thought she was going to escape getting hurt.
After a moment, she got out of the car and locked it. She’d made the right decision. If it already hurt, how bad would it have been if she’d allowed it to go on, weeks maybe, before he began looking for greener pastures.
She’d probably never see him again anyway.
Chapter Ten
"All right," the pathologist said, "now this is where it starts getting really weird."
Charlie moved closer, studying the picture he was pointing at.
"This looks like a human bite—or at least more like a human bite that any animal I could compare it with. If I’d actually seen the body, I probably could have told you exactly what it is, but…."
"On her throat? You’re sure?"
"I’m as sure as I can be with what I have to work with."
Charlie felt like hugging the man. She contented herself with giving him a smile of appreciation. "Anything else interesting?"
"The hair samples—we identified the animal hair as puma. The two pubic hairs came from two different males, both are microscopically similar to American Indian—which would be consistent with a serial rapist—they usually work within their own ethnic group."
"Thanks! You’ve been a tremendous help."
Gathering the pictures and his report, she hurried to her supervisor’s office and asked his secretary if she could speak with him.
She’d almost resorted to chewing her nails by the time she was admitted.
"You’ve got the report?"
She nodded and handed it over to him, waiting impatiently while he read it.
"She was raped then?"
Charlie nodded. "The pathologist said he found two types of semen --which wouldn’t necessarily mean anything, but the tearing in the genital area are a dead giveaway that she was sexually assaulted. Either she’d been out with her boyfriend and was assaulted by the other man later, or there were two assailants. He also said the bite here on the neck looks like a human bite."
Her boss frowned. "Any theories?"
"She might already have been dead when the puma came along—which might also explain why it didn’t appear as if the puma had ... eaten her."
"I think I need to get somebody down there."
Charlie stared at him in dismay. "I thought—that is, I expected this to be my case."
"This looks like a bad one—and she’s possibly the third such victim—which means a serial rapist/killer. This is going to take someone with a little more field experience."
"Is there any reason why I can’t be included in the investigation—I’m not going to get field experience at my desk."
He gave her a look. After a moment, however, he looked down at the pictures again. "This was a little unorthodox."
Charlie blushed. "I know, sir, but it was clear I wasn’t going to get anything to go on going through regular channels. They’re convinced it’s animal attacks—not that I can blame them for preferring to think so—but they’re not looking for anything else and they don’t like being told they might’ve made a mistake."
"Or they might be our perp or perps."
Charlie didn’t comment, though she found it hard to imagine Dr. Bob, or Chief Brown being capable of such savagery.
"I’ll think about it."
Charlie’s shoulders slumped, but she merely got up and reached to collect the photos she’d taken. "You can leave these here."
Again, she nodded and then left the room. She was fuming by the time she returned to her office, but she knew there wasn’t a damn thing she could do but wait.
* * * *
When Agent Richard ‘Rusty’ Stephens, nicknamed for the color of his hair, tapped at her door and then poked his head in before she answered, Charlie looked up with a mixture of irritation and, when she recognized him, distrust.
He had the build of a weight lifter, the grating voice of a crow, the libido of a stud bull, and the personality of pudding—He’d made it clear he’d settled upon her as his chosen and he was certain it was only a matter of time before she gave in and fell for him.
He grinned. "You’re in."
Charlie stared at him with a mixture of revulsion and incomprehension. "In?"
He jerked his head in the direction of the director’s office. "They put me on the Reservation rape case. I asked for you as an assistant."
Such mixed emotions flooded through her that she was speechless. Fortunately, Stephens was certain she was speechless with gratitude and excitement. "You did?"
He nodded. "I’ll pick you up in the morning."
It was possible he’d asked for her ... unfortunately. It was also possible that he was only claiming credit to make points with her and that her boss had decided to honor her request. She might never know either way, but it really irritated the hell out of her to be assigned to assist on a case that she’d discovered.
She would be stuck with Rusty for God only knew how long.
And she was bound to run into Greywolf.
She was tempted to beg off the assignment, but she finally decided she could handle Rusty. She’d been holding him at arm’s length for almost two years after all.
As for Greywolf ... no doubt he’d found someone to console him, but she doubted she’d see much of him and there was no reason to think she couldn’t handle seeing him with his newest conquest anyway.
* * * *
He was lounging against his truck, talking to a young woman when Charlie stepped out of the police station. Her heart beat a little war cry as she glanced over, drawn by the color of the truck, and saw him. It was no more than a second, but long enough to notice that the woman probably wasn’t a day over twenty, was exceptionally pretty, and had his full attention.
Rusty’s hand on the small of her back was an almost welcome distraction. She turned to glare at him even as he leaned down to speak to her in a low voice. "I don’t think they’ll be very forthcoming in the investigation."
Her lips curled in a determined smile as she looked away. "It could’ve been handled a little better."
He shrugged, sliding his hand higher in the old ‘is
she wearing a bra?’ move. Charlie stepped out of reach just before he found his target and reached for the door handle. "I assume we’ll be starting with Chastity Owl’s parents?"
He nodded, moved around to the driver’s side of the car and got in. "I’d like to have a look at the scene, too."
Chastity’s parents greeted them at the door with almost identical expressions—basically none, except for the glitter of distrust in their eyes. The didn’t seem to know anything about their daughter—the names of her closest friends, where she spent her free time, who she was seeing. Charlie and Rusty left the residence virtually as empty handed as when they’d arrived.
They girl’s father stood in the yard as they walked the crime scene, as if he suspected they might steal something if he wasn’t keeping an eye on them.
They weren’t even out of hearing before Rusty voiced his opinion. "They’re lying. What do you make of it?"
"We’re Feds. I doubt we’re going to have much better luck with anyone else around here, especially not after the bureau had the girl’s body exhumed and shipped off. If I’d known …." She broke off. If she’d known, she would’ve been expecting resistance, but she would’ve taken the case anyway.
It had been over a week since the body was discovered. Charlie didn’t expect to find anything, but she knew Rusty needed to get a picture of the scene fixed in his head. He noticed the remains of the ceremonial fire immediately and squatted down to examine it, using his pen to pick through it. "I wonder if forensics could get anything out of this?"
"I doubt it would be all that helpful even if they did," Charlie said.
He glanced up at her. "What makes you think that?"
She was almost sorry she’d brought it up, but it was possible they would eventually trace it back to Greywolf anyway. "It’s a ceremonial fire--intended to free the girl’s spirit--from what I understood. The shaman was here."
The Shaman Page 6
