Wes’s hands were at her hips, pulling her back against him. He was there, thrusting against her, seeking entrance. She arched her back, looking up at him over her shoulder.
Feral was the first word that came to her mind. Wes’s lips were pulled back in a grimace, his eyes half-closed as he looked down, watching the two of them come together. And then he was there, inside, thrusting hard and all thoughts left her mind. Only feeling and sensation remained. Only Wes.
And those feelings and sensations, everything Wes did to her felt foreign, oddly surreal as though it were all just a dream. He held her, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand planted beside hers on the wall. The sheer power of his body as he moved, as he drove himself inside her, was immense. There was nothing Serena could do but ride along, held fast in his grasp.
Her body was headed toward the edge, Wes driving both of them forward, controlling the whole encounter. There was no holding back, not that she wanted to. Everything was spiraling faster and higher, she and Wes locked in an ancient dance of power and pure animal sex.
Serena’s breath came in ragged gulps of air, Wes’s breathing rasping into the hair at the nape of her neck. He began a cadence of moans and growls, escalating in pitch and intensity.
His cry as he came was piercing, a primal sound, triumphant. She struggled against his arm but it was useless. She was no more able to get away from him than she was able to deny her body, to deny her own climax.
The cry she heard next was her own as she broke, as Wes took her over the edge, and she plummeted downward. Her body dissolved, twisting and shaking, her mind going blank. In that moment she was grateful for Wes’s arm; it was the only thing keeping her from crashing to the floor.
It was over. Wes was breathing hard against her shoulder, slowly lowering her to the carpet. She sank to her knees, falling back against his solid form, his hard thighs beneath hers. He held her then, far more gently than she’d have imagined, as his breathing slowed.
“Damn, Serena.” He stroked her hair, now loose from the elastic, flowing over her shoulders, damp at her temples with sweat.
“This is beautiful.” He held a strand between his fingers. “Like dark chocolate…bittersweet…decadent.” She felt his lips on her cheek, his tongue caressing the lobe of her ear, and the hot center of her body reacted instantly.
“Wes, stop.” She struggled to sit up, kneeling on the carpet, her back to him.
“Stop. Interesting concept.” He shifted behind her and she turned to find him sitting back against the wall, watching her. “What if I don’t want to stop?”
“I need to stop.” Serena reached for her shirt, eyed the ruined bra, and then pulled the shirt over her head. Her jeans were nowhere in sight and she couldn’t remember when they’d come off. For some reason, that bothered her immensely.
“Yeah. Okay.” Wes stood, holding his hand out to Serena. She looked at it for a moment and then took it, letting him pull her to her feet. She stood and met his eyes.
“We found Goudy’s clothes.”
Wes’s eyes narrowed. He scooped his jeans from the floor and stepped gracefully into them.
“Find anything that might tie Sullivan to the murder?
He walked bare-chested and barefoot down the hall and Serena followed. Her jeans were flung over the end of the couch, and she snatched them up and quickly pulled them on.
“Not yet, but CSU was just starting to process the scene when you called, so we won’t know anything until they’re done.”
Wes was in the kitchen, rummaging in the refrigerator. She heard the clink of glass and he reappeared with a beer in his hand. He sat in the same chair he’d been in yesterday, stretching out his long legs and propping them on the coffee table.
Serena sat on the couch, suddenly uneasy and tense, not knowing why, unable to find a place to put her hands. She finally rested them on her thighs, her fingers tapping out a restless beat against her legs, a beat that matched the chaos that suddenly swirled through her mind. A sudden image of Brody rose in her mind, standing in the doorway of the mill house, silhouetted against the soft light inside.
“Did you follow up on Sullivan? Find his hiding place?”
Wes’s words took her off guard, her thoughts suddenly voiced. She struggled to keep her face neutral, reminding herself that no matter what had just happened, he was the man who had told her, point blank, that he’d kill her prime suspect with no hesitation.
“Yeah. Mike did a routine background check, everything checked out. Like you said.” Her voice trailed off, the rest of his question hanging in the air between them.
Wes watched her and she had the unsettling feeling for a moment that she was the suspect, the prey. Then he smiled, that cocky arrogant smile that sent her heart rate soaring.
“I’d have expected no less. He’s just a guy from the Midwest. An all-American boy who comes up clean. At least that’s how it all looks… on the surface.” He took a swallow of beer.
Serena nodded. “Not much else to go on right now until CSU gets back to us about the clothes.” She hesitated. The question she had now, the one that rose up in her mind, wasn’t about the case. She heard her voice before she could stop herself.
“Is there anything else I need to know…not about Sullivan, but about you?”
“This isn’t about the case anymore, is it, Serena?” Wes held her gaze and she struggled not look away. Her fingers grabbed at the denim of her jeans and she forced herself to relax.
She shook her head. “No. It’s…gotten personal. With us.”
“It has?” Wes raised his eyebrows. Serena’s shot up as well.
“It’s not for you? We just had…” She gestured behind her toward the hall. “…that. There. You can’t say that’s not personal.”
Wes leaned back in his chair, resting his arm across the back. “That was sex.”
Serena snorted, her brows drawing together. The corner of Wes’s lip curled in a sardonic smile. She narrowed her eyes, a small part of her mind wishing she’d never met Wes Callahan.
“We’re adults here, two consenting adults who are attracted to each other. Really attracted. And we acted on that. I’m sure as hell glad we did.”
Serena shook her head. “And that’s not personal?”
“What do you want, Serena? A declaration of love? We met yesterday, sparks flew, lots of sparks, and here we are. I don’t see anything wrong with that. You’ve had a fling before, haven’t you?”
Serena scowled, her hands clenched again. She blew out a breath, lips held tight together.
“Really? Never?” Wes leaned forward, setting his beer on the table. “I don’t believe you.” He rose, closing the small space between them. Serena looked up, drawing in a sharp breath. She could smell him, the dark, rich scent of him, mixed with the smell of sex. His voice had dropped, down to some frequency that vibrated deep inside her body.
“You can’t tell me you’re not attracted, that having sex with me hasn’t been on your mind since yesterday. Since we kissed.” He reached down and grabbed Serena by the shoulders, pulling her up from the couch. Her heart thudded into overdrive.
“You’re aching for it now. It’s coming off you in waves.” He bent to kiss her. Serena turned her head but he grabbed her chin with one hand. She met his eyes and drew in a shuddering, shallow breath, her mind telling her to pull away, to leave. This was not what she wanted.
Wes held her gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching with that infuriating grin. She wanted to wipe the smile from his face and show him he was wrong.
But in slow motion, against her will, her body gave in and she lifted her face to him, lips parted, hands coming up the warm skin of his chest. She pressed herself against him, craving as much contact as she could get, frustrated at the material that kept her from his hard body.
“I told you.” Wes’s smile deepened and his hand shifted, cradling her face, his thumb running over her lips, setting off a charge low in her belly. Her lips parted and Wes
slipped his thumb between them. She bit down, her teeth sinking into his flesh, a hair’s breath away from breaking the skin. Wes laughed.
“You’re a terrible liar, Serena.”
His hands slid down her body, catching the edge of her shirt, pulling it up. Serena stretched her arms over her head, her hair crackling with static. Wes dropped her shirt on the floor. His hands rose, finding her breasts. She arched against him and he palmed her nipples, a sound between a gasp and a sigh leaving her lips.
Serena wound her arms around Wes’s neck, pulling him closer, her lips seeking his. He gave her what she sought, his mouth on hers, his hands wrapped in her hair. They stood locked together as Wes quickly undid the snap and zipper on her jeans. She tugged them over her hips and kicked them aside.
Suddenly Wes broke their kiss, an arm reaching beneath Serena, picking her up as if she weighed next to nothing. He held her and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he strode down the hall toward the bedroom.
Once inside, Wes tossed Serena onto the bed. She caught her balance, propping herself up on her elbows. Wes stood at the side of the bed, looking down at her, that infuriating grin still in place.
Serena watched as, with deliberate slowness, Wes undid the zipper on his jeans, then slowly slid them down his narrow hips. She ached to touch him, to feel him against her, to have the weight of him pressing her into the bed. But he stood, eyes dark and hooded, looking down at her. Her breathing was fast and shallow and hard as she tried to focus on his face, her eyes drawn back down his body to the apex of his thighs. He was hard and, she imagined, just as hot as she was.
The heat in her belly spread lower, pooling between her legs. She moved on the bed, lying back, shifting restlessly. She was helpless under his gaze, unable to do anything but give herself up to him, on the verge of begging him to satisfy the gnawing hunger inside her.
After what seemed like an eternity, Wes climbed onto the bed, stretching out beside Serena, his mouth on hers. She immediately pulled him over her, scissoring him around the waist with her legs. He laughed against her mouth and she raked her nails across his back. He pulled away, looking down at her.
“You’re turning into quite the animal. I’d suspect you had shifter blood in you…” His unspoken question lingered between them. But Serena was intent on Wes, on having him inside her again, having him quench the fire he’d started burning deep inside her.
She pulled him down on her, her mouth devouring his, arms around his neck. He claimed both her mouth and the space between her legs as if it was his, the only place he wanted to be. His solid weight held her down just as she’d imagined it.
And then he was there, pushing against her. She spread her legs, hips rolling to meet him, opening to whatever he wanted to do to her. He pushed himself up from her, his eyes locked with hers as he slowly slid himself into her. It seemed to take an eternity, there seemed to be no end to the sensation of being filled by him, by the heat, the hardness. He finally held himself still, buried deeply, completely inside her body
She let out the breath she’d been holding as he pulled back. His eyes caught the light from the hall, flashing silver as he watched her face, as he held himself just at the edge of her, his hips twitching just enough that she could feel him moving, but not enough to have him back where she wanted him.
“You can’t tell me this isn’t what you want, Serena.” His voice was low, a velvet-covered growl. “I want it and you want it. Don’t deny it.”
She had no words for him, just the ache, the hunger in her body and the need to have him fill her again. With a whimper, she forced her hips against him, asking him with her body, begging with her movements.
“And that’s my answer.”
He was inside her in one long stroke, hard and fast, knocking the breath out of her lungs in a whistling grunt. She tried to brace her legs against the mattress, her arms against his shoulders, but there was nothing she could do but let him do as she had asked…as she had demanded.
Serena flung her arms wide, head thrown back, as Wes took control of her body with his. He slid one arm beneath her waist, lifting her hips higher, her body reacting in ways it never had with anyone else.
Wes’s head was buried against her neck, his open mouth hot against her skin. The heat between them, the slick way their bodies moved together, fueled Serena’s desire. There was a hot, sweet ache at her core, an ache that grew deeper with Wes’s hard, possessive thrusts.
She moaned, twisting her head, her body moving beneath Wes’s as much as his grasp would allow. She felt weightless even though Wes’s body held her firmly to the bed. She was floating, her body so very conscious of everything he was doing to her, every thrust, every breath he exhaled against her skin, every sound he made.
And then she fell apart, her body shaking beneath him, her fists grasping the blankets. She rose against him and he let her, pulling her up with him as he sat back on his heels, never breaking contact with her, never stopping his relentless thrusts into her body.
She came up with him, arms around his neck, face to face as she climaxed. His eyes were locked with hers, reading something in her face, seeing something there that she would never know. His body was rocking them both, driving deeper, pulling her down onto him. There was nothing she could do but hang on to him, fingers somehow wound in his thick dark hair, legs wrapped around his waist. She was flying, soaring, and he was all that was holding her down.
When Wes came she thought she would be torn in two. He thrust up hard once, drew back, held himself still, and then brought her down, his hands on her hips, impaling her as he pushed up sharply, crying out, filling her with his hot, wet heat. His eyes finally closed as he rose up on his knees, his hips thrusting forward with their own rhythm. Serena held on, watching his face, the ecstasy and pain mixed in his features. She thought maybe now she knew what he’d seen in her face.
He fell forward suddenly and she landed on her back, the feel of the blankets against her skin a surprise. Wes held her by her hips, still thrusting into her but it was slower, erratic, the final few accompanied by a deep groan. He finally pulled away and rolled onto his back beside her, one hand resting on her thigh.
“Jesus, woman. You’re going to be the death of me.” He turned and looked at her, his fingers caressing her skin.
Serena closed her eyes. Her body was heavy, leaden, and she felt drugged. The ache and hunger inside was sated for now, but with Wes there beside her, she had the distinct impression that it would all come rushing back if she so much as looked at him. She sat up, slightly lightheaded, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. It occurred to her that again, she’d probably missed a meal somewhere.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that.” She looked at him over her shoulder. Wes rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow.
He was right: sex with him had been mind-blowing, absolutely amazing, something she’d never experienced in her life. But in some remote part of her mind she felt betrayed by her body, tricked into the whole thing.
“I…” Serena tensed, turning her head toward the bedroom door. “That’s my cell.” She climbed out of bed, again searching for her jeans, finding them where they’d been tossed the last time. She fished her phone out of the pocket.
“Daniels.”
“Serena. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you and it just goes to voice mail. Nowinski wanted an update and CSU sent a report over on the clothes, preliminary, but still something.”
Her brows drew together. “I’ve been following a lead. What does CSU say?”
“Renee said you asked for them to specifically check for hair samples. They found some. And your hunch was right.”
Serena looked up. Wes was leaning against the archway by the kitchen, arms folded, watching her. He’d pulled on his jeans and suddenly Serena felt exposed and vulnerable, standing naked by the couch.
“Right about what?”
“The hair. They found human hair, which is to b
e expected. They think it belongs to at least three different individuals, maybe more, including Goudy. And they found canine hair…either wolf or dog.”
“Did someone get a sample from Goudy’s dorm room? When will they have the DNA back?”
“Yeah, there’s a sample. Report…not until tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest. Nowinski put a rush on this.”
There was silence from Mike, and Serena hesitated. Wes had moved into the living room and stood by the end of the couch.
“Serena? You still there?”
“Yeah, still here. Listen. I’ll be back in about thirty minutes. Can you tell Nowinski I’ll be there?”
The sigh on the other end was heavy. “Yeah. Okay.” The line went dead. She flipped her phone shut.
“I gotta go. Now.” She looked for her shirt, finding it on the floor in the corner. She tugged it over her head. Her panties were history and her jeans were on the floor by her feet. She tugged them on, found her boots and sat down on the couch, slipping her feet inside before realizing she was minus socks.
Wes sat in the armchair. “CSU got a hit?”
Serena nodded, thoughts racing. “Yeah, they got…something like a hit. But it’s my lieutenant…you know, on the warpath.”
Something was wrong. Words rose in her mind and suddenly she wanted to tell Wes everything that had been found, including that she’d found Brody Sullivan. But she knew she’d decided not to tell Wes about Sullivan, knew it was a bad idea. And the hair from Goudy’s clothes; it was too soon to say anything.
The lack of control she’d had during sex was spilling over into her professional thinking. And this was bad, very bad. All she wanted now was to get away from Wes Callahan, before she said something – do something – that she’d regret.
“Listen, I’ll call you with…when I know more. Right now I gotta get back.” She stood up, pulling on her jacket, and Wes rose, following her to the door. She opened it and before she could step into the hall, Wes put his hand on her arm.
“Remember what I said, Serena. Consenting adults. No one forced you to come here. You did that all on your own.”
All American Wolf Page 10
