All American Wolf

by Adriana Hunter

  “Take my hand! Come on…reach!”

  She lifted her head. Brody was there, his hand inches from hers. She lunged forward once more, her fingers touching his. He gripped her hand and with incredible strength he pulled her forcibly to her feet. Serena shivered uncontrollably, her teeth clacking together. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t get her legs to cooperate, and she sagged against him. He caught her easily, picking her up in his arms. Serena was dimly aware of the soft texture of his shirt against her cheek, the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear. She closed her eyes and willed her body to stop shivering, but she only shook harder. Brody’s arms tightened around her as he climbed the embankment to the mill house, banging through the door and striding into the living room.

  She was dimly aware of his hands pulling off her wet clothes. Time seemed to fold over on itself and things stopped making sense. She was freezing cold but her skin felt as if it were on fire and she tore at her shirt.

  “Stop, Serena. Let me.” He held her hands for a moment until she stopped struggling and then pulled her shirt over her head. The room spun again and she closed her eyes.

  There came a brief moment of consciousness, startlingly clear, and she realized she was naked on the couch. Things grew fuzzy again, and then she was wrapped in a blanket. The cold was like a stream running through her body, as if the icy water from the lake had gotten inside her, into her veins. A fresh wave of tremors shook her, a combination of cold and shock, and she closed her eyes.

  There were sounds to her right. She opened her eyes and turned her head. Brody was adding logs to a roaring blaze. She struggled to sit up as he sat back, staring into the flames for a moment. Then he turned and rose, saw that she was looking at him, and came to kneel beside her. He pulled the blanket over her shoulders, chafing her arms with his hands.

  “The fire should be going in a minute. We need to do something with your hair.” He reached up, brushing a damp strand from her forehead.

  “ ’S…okay. Just…I’m….” Serena pulled back from his hand and her teeth chattered, cutting off her words. She wrapped her arms around herself beneath the blanket.

  “It’s okay…you’re okay.” His voice was low, soothing. She focused on his eyes, blue and clear, anything to distract her from how cold she was. How frightened…and how close she’d come to dying on the lake.

  “You’re…wet.”

  Brody shivered slightly, and she remembered he hadn’t been wearing a jacket. “You must be…half frozen.”

  He looked down at himself. “I’m fine.”

  “You should change.”

  “Yeah, I will.” He stood, looking down at her for a moment, his face drawn with concern. “You’ll be okay for a minute?”

  She nodded, pulling up the blanket higher when he left the room. Serena stared into the fire, the warmth of the flames finally reaching her. The horrible leaden feeling was leaving her limbs and her mind. She struggled to sit up further so she could see the rest of the room.

  Everything was in chaos. There were several open packing boxes lined up by the door to the kitchen, hastily packed, their contents exposed. She could see clothing, books, and papers sticking out of them. She turned, looking over her shoulder at the roll-top desk. It was empty, the laptop gone, the top scattered with crumpled papers.

  “Not what you expected?” Brody walked back into the living room, wearing just a faded pair of sweatpants. He stopped at the end of the couch, eyes meeting hers briefly before sliding away to look at the boxes. He shrugged.

  “Or maybe it is.” He looked around the room before walking to the fireplace and picked up another log, adding it to the fire. He watched the flames tasting the new log, licking up the sides, as if deciding whether or not to consume it. He spoke without turning, his voice tight.

  “I know why you were here yesterday, what you think I’ve done.” He turned, looking at Serena. His eyes held a mixture of fear and resignation.

  “How could you know why I was here?” She held his gaze, eyes narrowed. His sudden smile took her by surprise. For an instant he was the handsome guy she’d met a few days ago, not the tense figure he was today.

  “You’re a detective at heart, Serena. And you don’t play coy very well.” He hesitated, eyes locked with hers.

  “You’ve met Wes Callahan. He’s the one who told you about me…about the other murders.”

  She couldn’t deny it, couldn’t lie to Brody. He’d see right through it. That much she was certain.

  “And so you’re leaving?” A sliver of fear sliced through her body and the shiver she felt had nothing to do with the cold. She pulled the blanket even higher, wondering what he’d done with her clothes and her gun.

  If he thought he was a suspect and he was the killer, she was in way over her head. Her heart started to race but she willed herself to remain calm and not panic. He may have just saved her life, but that didn’t mean he could be trusted.

  “This is how it is now. This is my life.” He walked toward her. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. He sat on the floor in front of the fire, leaning back against the couch. His hair was tousled, still damp, darker along the nape of his neck. He spoke without looking at her.

  “Wes…you think he’s told you everything. That I’m a shifter – a killer – dangerous. Someone who needs to be put down. Someone to be afraid of.”

  Serena pulled her knees up to her chest. Brody turned, meeting her gaze. “It’s not what you think though, is it? I’m not what you think. I’m not a killer and you know this. Deep inside, you’ve always known that it couldn’t possibly be true.”

  “But you are a shifter?”

  He hesitated, turning back to the fire. The light caught his face, outlining the high forehead, the full lips.

  “Yes. I am a shifter,” he nodded, his voice a deep rumble. “That part is true. The rest of the story…isn’t.”

  “All of it? Everything you think I know is a lie?”

  “All of it, all made up by Wes Callahan.” His voice was resigned. Serena’s brows drew together.

  “Why would Wes Callahan make up a story implicating you in a series of murders across several states, Brody? How does that make any sense?”

  Brody turned again, looking up at Serena. His eyes were intense, the blue darkening, turning almost black in the flickering light of the fire. Serena noticed his hands were fisted against his thighs. But his voice was cold, the resigned tone suddenly gone.

  “Because Wes Callahan is also a shifter. And he killed my father. Our Alpha.”

  Chapter Eight

  They sat in silence for a long time as Serena tried to make sense of his words. He’d turned away and was watching the fire again. When he finally spoke, his voice was choked with emotion.

  “My father was the Alpha of our pack…our leader. We had a pack that was scattered all across the country. Wes was a member of our pack. But being a member wasn’t enough for him, even when my father trusted him to help him lead. He wanted to be Alpha and set his mind on challenging my father’s status.” His voice trailed off and he was silent for a moment. Then he drew in a deep breath.

  “He didn’t challenge him though… he didn’t even give him a chance to fight back. He ambushed him, caught him alone, and tore out his throat before he even had a chance to shift.”

  Serena looked at Brody’s face in the firelight. Shadows filled the room, but the glow of the flames showed a man clearly torn by loss. He was hunched forward, chin resting on his knees.

  She knew she shouldn’t believe Brody just because she so desperately wanted to make sense of it all, to believe him. But she also knew the most adept serial killers could fool even the most experienced investigators.

  “What happened then? You ran? Why?”

  Brody turned to her, his face earnest. “I didn’t run. I left to warn the other pack members. Wes tried to ambush me the same way he did my father…but I outsmarted him.”

  “And what about the rest of the murders?
In the Dakotas? Minnesota? Up north?”

  “All Callahan. He’s been one step ahead of me every time. All those men, they were pack members…guys I grew up with, men that my father respected. Including Marcus Goudy.” Brody’s eyes were steely blue, full of anger and loss.

  “He’s the hunter, they’ve been the prey. And because Wes used to be a cop, he’s been able to plant evidence, make it look like it’s me…that I’m the killer.”

  Serena sat up, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. She caught it, clutching it in front of her. She swung her legs over the edge of the couch. Somehow this story rang true… it all suddenly made sense.

  “Brody, if you’re innocent, there are ways of proving it.”

  Brody shook his head. “Callahan’s the best there is at this, Serena.” His laugh was bitter. “He’s had lots of practice. This guy in Madison? That’s his, what? Eighth victim, not counting my father.” He turned to Serena, his hand on her knee, his fingers sliding beneath the blanket before coming to rest on her bare skin.

  “How the hell am I supposed to fight someone so obsessed with wanting me dead? Someone who knows the system inside and out?”

  Her own words surprised her, but they felt right as she said them. “With someone else who knows the system inside and out.”

  Brody’s eyebrows shot up. “So you believe me?”

  “If you’re innocent in the Goudy case and I can prove it, I will. I’m not interested in sending an innocent man to jail.”

  Brody held her gaze and Serena felt herself drawn into those blue eyes all over again, like she had the first time they met. The blanket slipped further and she let it go, her shoulders exposed to the heat of the fire. A remote corner of her mind balked, told her this wasn’t the right thing to do. Sullivan was a still a potential suspect in a brutal murder, was wanted for the murder in Kansas. He was someone she’d been afraid of only a few moments ago.

  That voice was lost in the swirling thoughts racing through her mind. Her fear had melted. It just wasn’t there anymore. It was replaced with a helpless giddy feeling rising from deep in her body, spiraling upward, taking over any rational thought. Everything faded except the touch of his hand on her skin, the sensations running through her body.

  “You do believe me.” His voice was soft and his grip tightened on her leg, his eyes locked with hers, pulling her into those blue depths. Her heart skipped a beat and she leaned forward, placing her hand on his bare shoulder.

  “I…can’t say that I don’t, Brody. But if you’re innocent…” Serena was suddenly very aware that she was naked beneath the blanket, that he’d removed her clothes. The thought of his hands on her, undressing her and seeing her body, sent her heart racing. She knew what that felt like, how his touch could make her body sing. And she wanted – needed – to feel that again.

  Brody shifted his body, rising up on his knees, turning toward her. Without thinking, she leaned forward and their lips met. He hesitated briefly before he returned her kiss, his mouth hot and supple against hers. She let him part her lips with his tongue, the first brush against hers sending a wave of arousal through her body.

  Her hands released the blanket and it pooled around her hips. She reached for him, her arms around his neck. He shifted in her grasp, turning her before he pulled her off the couch, effortlessly guiding her to the rug. The weight of him, the hot feel of his skin next to hers was intoxicating and she pulled him closer, her mouth hot on his.

  Brody shifted his weight, one hand sliding down her body and over her hip. She arched her back, pressing herself against him. He moaned against her mouth and flexed his hips, driving them against her. The thin fabric of his sweatpants did nothing to conceal his arousal and Serena was aware, with every movement of his body, how hard he was, how hot and ready for her. Just as ready as she was.

  His hand left her hip briefly, his body pulling away. She whimpered slightly, the loss of his weight and heat leaving a space inside of her. But then he was back, the material gone between them, skin against hot skin, and Serena smiled against his mouth. With wanton abandon she rolled her hips up, opening herself to him.

  He met her fully, sliding into her with an exhalation of breath that was part groan, part cry. For a moment he held himself there, pressing even more deeply into her, his mouth open against hers. When she thought she could stand it no longer, he pulled back.

  Brody rose above her, cradling her face between his hands, his eyes locked with hers as he pushed forward again, filling her completely. Serena slid her hands up his body, over the hard planes of his chest, her fingers in his thick hair.

  Her body reacted to every move he made, aching for him as he pulled back, exultant as he thrust forward. Together they created a delicious friction, a heat that warmed her like no fire ever could.

  Brody dropped his head to her shoulder, grunting with each powerful thrust. Serena was aware of every subtle movement his body made as her hands slid over his sweat-slicked skin, his chest expanding as he drew in gasping breaths. Then lower, as the muscles of his hips flexed and bunched, over and over, as he thrust into her.

  Her body took on a life of its own as she writhed and twisted beneath him. He brought her to a shattering climax. She heard screams and realized it was her own voice, noises she’d never heard coming from her lips. She flung her arms around Brody’s neck, her legs around his waist, and clung to him, her anchor in the swirling storm that threatened to sweep her away in ecstasy.

  The exquisite sensations continued to wash through her. She slowly became aware of Brody, the subtle changes in his body, as he grew harder, his thrusts becoming erratic, sharper. He held her for a long moment, arms around her, hips pressing her to the floor, every muscle tense. Serena felt suspended, the aftershocks of her climax slowly fading, as she waited and watched him, poised on the edge of his own release.

  When he came, it almost took her breath away. He shuddered briefly then threw his head back, eyes closed, mouth open in a silent scream before thrusting hard and deep, each stroke now accompanied by such deeply erotic sounds Serena found herself responding, a second orgasm washing over her.

  Brody looked down at her, his eyes deep blue, his breath coming in ragged gasps. She arched up against him, her own breathing just as harsh. Swiftly he lowered his head, catching her mouth in a kiss so deep, so full of arousal and passion, that she was instantly consumed by it. He broke away with a moan and she whimpered as he buried his head against her neck, his thrusts slowing, his body slowly growing calm against her.

  “Serena…” He drew a ragged breath against her skin. He lifted his head from her shoulder, looking down at her. “I’d say that was intense, but that doesn’t even come close.”

  “It was…it was pretty amazing.” Serena struggled beneath him, her hands on his chest. “Let me up.”

  He rolled onto his side, his back to the couch. Serena sat up. The heat from the fire licked her skin and she felt like one of the logs lying on the hearth. But the real fire was lying beside her, watching her, and she had almost let him consume her. He propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand caressing her hip.

  “You okay?”

  She turned and looked down at him. His face was relaxed, far more than she’d ever seen. Her eyes slid down his body, the smooth skin, the narrow waist…further, over his hips.

  She closed her eyes. Maybe this was wrong, just as wrong as sleeping with Wes. Both men were dangerous, both distracting her from what she should be focusing on, the case, on catching Goudy’s killer.

  But maybe this was different from Wes. Or maybe she just wanted it to be different, maybe she didn’t want to feel used afterward. Used…or controlled. A chill slipped past the warmth of the fire and she hugged herself tightly. Wes was a shifter, someone who controlled her to get information. Brody was a shifter…who wanted her to believe that he was innocent.

  “Serena? You alright?”

  She turned to Brody. “I don’t know. I …something’s not right. With this.” She
waved her hand between them.

  He frowned at her. “What do you mean…something’s not right?”

  She scrambled to her feet, suddenly very afraid. Brody rose as well, concern etched onto his face.

  “I want my clothes.” Her voice was even, cold. Distant. “I want them now.”

  His hands were on her shoulders, fingers that had just caressed her now holding her, restraining her.

  “Calm down. We didn’t do…I haven’t done anything to you that you didn’t want –that you didn’t need, just as much as I did.”

  She twisted out of his grip. “Don’t tell me we’re two consenting adults here, both of us acting out of free will.” She was shaking, suddenly angry and embarrassed. After Wes, she should have known better.

  “I fell for that line with him…I’ve fallen for that line before.” She tried hard to hold his gaze, faltered briefly and then thrust her chin out, glaring at him.

  Brody’s eyes narrowed. “You slept with Wes Callahan?”

  Serena took a step back, suddenly feeling the sting of his anger. “Who I sleep with is none of your business.” The warmth from the fire was intense and she circled away, back toward the couch.

  “Yes, Serena…it is.” He took a step toward her and she turned away, the backs of her legs bumping against the couch.

  “Stop running away from me for once. Just listen.” He held out his hand, pointing to the couch. She looked at him and she was suddenly aware they were both naked, the fire sending specs of orange hues across their skin.

  “Give me my clothes.” She grabbed the blanket from the floor, awkwardly wrapping it around her. “I’d rather have this conversation wearing my clothes.”

  Brody grabbed his sweatpants and pulled them up over his narrow hips. He left the room and she heard him banging around somewhere in a different part of the house. She clutched the blanket as he came back, something other than her clothes in his hands.