by Sasha Winter
Once he’d started the car he reached out and took her hand in his own, keeping two fingers at her pulse and his hearing amplified so he didn’t miss a single whimper or sigh or skip in her heartbeat. Her heart had quickened a little when they were still a quarter mile from Erik’s house but it evened out within seconds so he tried not to panic.
When he finally pulled into his driveway he scrambled out of the car, barely remembering to pull up the parking brake, and unlocked the front door before returning to the car. He carefully gathered Elise into his arms and carried her up the front path and through the door.
His feet tried to take him right to his bedroom but he hesitated, wondering whether she’d prefer to wake up on the sofa. His desire to lay her on his own sheets and make sure she was safe somewhere that was solely his territory, like his bedroom, won out.
“Bed’s more comfortable anyway,” he muttered to himself as he set her down.
Elise’s pulse was steady and her breathing even when Erik checked before reaching out to remove her shoes. The strappy heels were battered and scratched up and entirely impractical for running. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he realized the shoes were why she hadn’t been able to escape and had been cornered in the alley. The thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t returned was enough to make bile rise, bitter and harsh, in his throat. He gagged it back down and put the shoes down on the floor by his dresser.
His instincts were screaming at him to take off the dress that reeked of fear and the drunken men where they’d grabbed at her and dress her in something warm and soft that didn’t smell so dreadful but he shut that train of thought down, well aware of how much more terrified she’d be if she woke up and realized someone had done that while she was out cold.
Instead, he tucked the sheets in around her and drew the blanket up so it was under her chin. He allowed himself the small indulgence of brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead before he left the room, pulling the door almost shut.
He sought refuge in the kitchen, putting a pot of tea on the stove before he sat down and finally put his head in his hands. Erik let out a frustrated, angry breath. His stomach settled slowly, with sips of tea and his evening pulse bringing back his appetite full force. He set about making some food, something intensive that soaked up his attention so his thoughts wouldn't wander.
He started a pot of water to boil, pulling a tub of tortellini out of the freezer. He set to chopping onions, garlic, and mushrooms. Plucking some fresh herbs from his kitchen window flower box, he chopped those too. He browned some Italian sausage along with the onions, mushrooms, and garlic. Nerves still high, he cracked open a beer and took a deep pull in between stirring his meat and veggies. He pulled out a jar of his mom's prized recipe pasta sauce from the pantry, and poured it into the pan over the sausage mixture.
He cooked the tortellini al dente before straining and adding them to his bubbling sauce mixture. Then he added a bit of the pasta water, some fresh grated parmesan, and the fresh chopped herbs. Turning off the heat, he let the mixture sit, the flavors infusing and deepening as he hurried to check on Elise.
She finally looked peaceful, resting quietly.
Chapter 9
When Elise woke it was as though she was right back in the alley, staring down at the panther that had sprung out of nowhere. Her heart rate skyrocketed, disoriented and wracked with terror. She barely noticed that she was in a bed and still fully clothed, tucked securely under the blankets, too caught up in the last few seconds of memories she had before she blacked out.
She looked around, confused and lost. Where was she?
All of a sudden Erik appeared at her side and tears stung at her eyes as relief rolled over her like a flood of warm water. “Oh, thank God,” she said and reached out for his arm.
He took her hand gently and crouched down by the bedside. “You’re okay,” he said. “Those guys are gone. You’re at my place, you’re safe.”
“The-the panther?” she choked out.
Erik winced. “That was me.”
Her mouth fell open in surprise, the panic fading away almost instantly. “That was you?”
He looked a little sheepish when he nodded. “Yeah. I couldn’t pull my gun on them but they didn’t listen when I told them to get away from you. It was the next best thing I could think of. “
Elise tried to wrap her head around things. She felt dirty, violated, her heart still pounding at the remembrance of those men, their hands on her body. Erik squeezed her hand gently, bringing her back to the present. Her mind raced, but suddenly she realized something.
“Wait, you're a shifter? A panther shifter?” It clicked, finally, and she felt so silly, her annoyance and frustration from earlier fading to incredulity.
“I’m so sorry, Elise. I was supposed to meet you at the bar tonight but when I realized it was you I panicked. There’s not exactly a lot of positive feelings towards shifters around here at the moment, and I didn't want you to get mixed up with that while we were working together. I had to protect you.”
She sighed. “Oh. Right. I suppose that makes sense,” she said before furrowing her brow. “So wait, you’re the town Santa too? You?”
He gave her a sheepish nod. “Yeah. I was wondering when you’d figure that out.”
“Doesn’t it feel strange, working on a horrible murder case while simultaneously bringing Christmas cheer to young children? It seems so…bizarre.”
He nodded again. “Yes, it does, but it’s a good way to blow off steam, and the kids need it. It’s always been a tradition for the town sheriff to do it.”
“Well, it’s bizarre but also very sweet,” she replied. “Those kids are lucky.”
Elise suddenly felt a cold pang of realization. “I just thought of something. The townspeople think Dylan was killed by a shifter,” she said, struggling to sit up properly. “They don’t know you’re one because if they did you’d be blamed, right?”
Erik sighed and she was struck with the urge to squeeze his hand. She did and he returned the gesture with a tired quirk of his lips. “I haven’t been Sheriff very long. The right time to admit what I am hasn’t come along yet. It won’t help the case for everyone to start fearing me. I didn’t kill Dylan but if I’m the only one in these parts no one is going to believe that.”
“Are you the only shifter around?” she asked as a thought occurred to her. “Ralph said he was going to round all of you up, and that sounds like there’s a lot.”
Erik nodded decisively. “The only feline one, yes. I’d know if there was another like me around.”
“So if one really did kill Dylan then they aren’t from around here,” she said.
“I really don't think it was a shifter. Nothing adds up. The prints are wrong, the bite marks are wrong, and the smell was wrong. I've been struggling to find a way to piece everything together and prove that whoever killed him was human, not shifter. But every excuse I found felt defensive and incriminating at the same time. Around here, if you defend a shifter you're just as bad as one. All in all, I think someone is trying to frame me.” Erik sounded defeated. “They must have found out what I am and probably don’t think I should be on the force, let alone as the Sheriff.”
“Or hanging around the town’s kids as Father Christmas...”
“Yeah. Framing me for murdering a teenager is definitely one way to get me out of office and put local shifters’ rights back a few decades.”
Elise squeezed his hand, and he looked up into her eyes. “We'll find whoever did this and make sure no one tries to hurt you or your career,” she said. “Even if it takes a damn miracle. It’s the right season for it, after all.”
Erik couldn't help but smile softly, even if he had serious doubts. “If my cover isn't already blown, we need to work fast to figure things out.”
Elise nodded, returning his smile. Erik felt his stomach give a low grumbling growl, and he gave Elise a sheepish look.
“I've made
some pasta. Are you hungry?” he asked, helping her out of the bed. She looked tired and disheveled, but she nodded.
“Can... can I use your restroom?” She sounded shy, sheepish, and Erik readily showed her the way to the master bathroom, telling her to take her time as he hurried off to dish up the pasta. He reset the kettle to brew more tea, downing the last of his beer and mixing some loose leaf chamomile with his favorite peppermint tea into his infusers.
Elise made her way out a few minutes later, looking a little less rumpled, a little more fresh-faced. Erik pulled out her chair and offered her a seat, and she thanked him, settling in and taking a long, grateful drink of the tea as Erik tucked into his bowl of pasta.
“This is amazing,” Elise said after a few bites. She was admittedly surprised; she'd never known a man to cook so well. Her ex Tom could barely manage to boil water without burning his apartment down, and her dad had only ever contributed food if it was cooked on the grill.
“My mom's sauce is really what carries the dish,” he said, shrugging as he took another bite. He wasn't trying to be modest, he knew he was an excellent cook, but he couldn’t take all the credit.
They ate in relative silence after that, enjoying the food and the tea. Erik ate two full bowls, downing his mug of tea along with a glass of cold water from the tap.
“Is it true what I've read, that your metabolism is faster? I've noticed you eat fairly often, but it never occurred to me until now,” Elise said.
Eric felt oddly sheepish talking about himself, but he nodded. “Yeah, we burn through about twice the calories. I eat about four solid meals a day, plus snacks. If I don't, I have no energy and I get extremely grumpy.”
“So no different than any other man in that aspect,” Elise teased. “If only my metabolism were twice as fast as it was. More wine and ice cream would never be a bad thing.”
They discussed his shifting abilities, his increased senses, his ability to smell and sense emotions. Erik brought up PurrfectMates, and their conversation the night before. He watched Elise flush crimson, and he could smell a change in her. A lecherous grin spread across Erik's face. He had known. He’d heard the change in her voice, the hitch in her breath even over the phone. He had known what she was doing while he talked, and he felt his inner panther start to purr.
“Are you still hungry?” he asked. “Can I get you more tea?”
He saw her shudder, biting her lip.
“Um. A glass of water, if you don't mind?” Her cheeks were glowing a glorious rosy red, and Erik could hear her heart starting to pound in her chest. He got her the glass of water, and she drank it hurriedly, looking feverish as she set the glass back on the table. He watched her with a predator’s eyes, and she didn't shy away from his gaze. She stared back, breathing heavily.
“I know what you did last night, Elise. I could hear it in your voice, in your breathing. It made me wish I was with you even more. I couldn't wait to meet you tonight,” Erik confessed, and Elise blushed even more, biting her lip. Erik could smell her arousal grow, her embarrassment easing into something deeper, something more carnal that called to Erik.
Chapter 10
They were suddenly kissing, and Elise wasn't complaining. The tension between them had been building steadily, and suddenly neither of them wanted anything more than to ravage each other. Their lips met hungrily, desperately as they scrambled for purchase. Hands fumbling, Elise had to reign herself in, keeping her enthusiasm in check as he opened his mouth to her, and she couldn't believe how good he tasted.
Erik was far from hesitant, but Elise could tell he was letting her set the pace. She finally mustered the courage to touch him, running her hands up his chest, to his shoulders, his neck, and up the back of his head to pull him closer. His hands followed suit, pulling her close. She felt drunk, high, lust coursing through her veins and it was such a sweet, addictive feeling.
Elise pulled back, her heart pounding blood through her ears, gasping a breath and not quite pulling away before diving back in, her hands in Erik's hair. He let her set the pace, kissing passionately as he let his hands slide down to her hips. He pulled her closer, pressing himself against the length of her body, and Elise moaned into the kiss. She felt dizzy, vibrating with desire and need and everything in between.
Suddenly desperate, her hands slid down the front of his shirt, fumbling at the buttons. He brought his hands up, settling them over her own and she quivered at his touch. Panting, he pulled back. She looked up into his hazel eyes, her brown ones all pupil in her current state of arousal. He kissed her again, slower this time, and she wondered if he could smell her excitement, if he could hear her heart pounding.
He started to slowly and calmly undo the buttons of his shirt, and she tried her best to help. She finally gave up, her hands finding his hair again. She gently dragged her fingernails across his scalp, making him groan deep in his chest. The groan led to a resonant, rumbling purr that cut right through her like a red hot knife.
She couldn't help but moan wantonly, pressing herself against him as she all but tore his unbuttoned shirt off his torso. His skin was tan, stretched tight and lean over broad shoulders, a well-muscled chest, and washboard abs that made Elise's knees go even weaker. She took it all in, breaking the kiss to pant into his neck. His purr rumbled on in his chest, vibrating the very air around them. She dove back in, kissing him deeply, her tongue battling his. She sucked in his bottom lip, dragging her teeth across the sensitive flesh, and she felt his hips jerk involuntarily against her. The heat of his arousal drove her passion to a fevered pitch, and she scrambled around to unzip the back of her disheveled dress. She shrugged out if it, watching it fall to the floor.
“Bedroom?” she ventured, legs shaking unsteadily as she stood in nothing but her sheer red bra and panties. He agreed heartily, dragging her back to the disheveled bed, shoving the blankets aside as he stood, waiting, eyes hooded and watching her every move. She felt a deep, insatiable hunger rise within her. At this point, she didn't care. All of her insecurities and inhibitions flew out the window.
She slid out of her panties, reaching around to unclasp her bra. Her full breasts bounced free, and he all but tackled her to the bed, pouncing with a growling moan. She opened herself to him, legs wrapping around his hip as his mouth found her throat, kissing and licking and sucking his way down to one of her breasts. He cupped them in his hands gently, kneading them before his tongue found the sharp point of her right nipple.
She felt a jolt, a lightning bolt of pleasure slicing through her as she moaned wantonly. He continued his assault, nostrils flaring as he caught her scent. She was so lost in the pleasure that she barely noticed when he slid out of his own pants, leaving him tenting his briefs in all his glory. Feeling the burning need to touch him, she pulled him back up for a kiss.
His erection was burning hot to the touch, even through the cotton briefs, and she grasped him firmly as he groaned into her mouth. She began to rub and stroke him, ghosting light touches across the head, making his hips jerk. Overcome with the sudden need to have him inside her, she pushed him back, slithering out of her panties and pulling down his boxers down to be kicked off and discarded with her own on the floor. She was surprised how big he was, how hard he was, already straining with his need.
Feeling him throbbing against her hip, her lust-drunken brain managed to sober up long enough to remember something important. He kissed her neck softly, both of them panting.
“Do, um. Do you have protection?” she asked sheepishly, and he seemed to pull himself out of the same drunken daze. In a flash, he was rummaging through his bedside drawer. Elise took a little satisfaction from the fact that the box of condoms he pulled out was unopened, but not for long. By the time he slid back between her legs, she was ready, hungry to feel him inside her.
She pulled him down to her, legs wrapping around his hips. Their kiss heated back up quickly, passionate and burning through them both. Elise couldn't take it anymore. Reaching down, she graspe
d him firmly, guiding him inside of her. She had forgotten how great it felt to be filled to bursting. He propped himself up, moving his hips slowly at first until their hips found a good rhythm. All panting, concentration, the friction started to build. Elise matched his thrusts, rocking her hips as she scraped her fingernails down his back. The sound of his growling moan brought forth a moan of her own, and she realized she'd been holding back.
Balancing on his knees and one hand, Erik licked his fingers, reaching down to touch Elise's folds. Firm, slow strokes of his fingers matched the rhythm of his thrusting hips, and it was all too much. Elise felt the pressure building inside her. The pressure of him inside her, the delicious friction of his fingers against her clit, the smell of him and the sounds he was making, it was all too much.
“Oh, god,” she moaned, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach growing tight. Her moans escalated, louder, longer, pitching up in a desperate keening plea. His composure broken, Erik pulled his hand away and thrust harder, faster, pounding into Elise as she grabbed at his hips desperately. All it took was a stifled moan, his teeth gritting, neck and shoulder tight with the strain as he gave it his all.
Her orgasm cascaded over her, taking her breath away as Erik continued to fuck her for all he was worth. When she finally was able to, she let out a groan of relief, something halfway between 'mmmm' and a breathy “Erik.” That was all it took to tip Erik over the edge, and he rode out his orgasm on the tail end of hers. A deep rumbling groan sent aftershocks through Elise, her soft moans emphasizing each harsh thrust of his hips, which slowed to a stop as they both panted heavily.
She didn't want him to ever move, perfection was the weight of his strong, sweating body on top of hers, his still throbbing erection slowly deflating inside of her. She knew he had to pull out soon or risk the condom slipping and making a mess.
She groaned when he finally pulled away, her limbs noodles with no will to move. She heard him go into the bathroom and clean up a bit, and watched with bleary eyes as he walked back out. She was still lying there, spread-eagle with her hands over her head, either unable or unwilling to move.
