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High Moon (A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Investigation Book 4)

Page 17

by Jennifer Harlow


  I swivel my chair back around to the board, re-reading everything in the hopes something new will magically present itself, but my eyes stop at Imelda’s photo. One of these things is not like the others for sure. This pretty English major rests among a drug addict, a prostitute, another homeless man/drug user, and two others never reported missing. Why her? Why risk the exposure? Why—

  My concentration breaks when the door slides open again, and completely shatters when my gorgeous boyfriend steps in. Oh, he is especially yummy tonight in khakis, the blue fleece sweatshirt I got him for Christmas, and hair wet yet full. Heck he even smells divine, like shampoo and Calvin Klein cologne. If the man is attempting to torture me it is so working. “Thought you’d be in here,” he says with a smile before moving behind me.

  “Where else would I be?”

  Will begins rubbing my shoulders which sorely need some TLC. “Been busy I see.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh. God those hands feel good. “Bees got nothing on me. Of course they have something to show for it at the end of the day. I’ve got bubkus. A million theories and no proof. The dots are all there but I just can’t connect them. I just feel like…I’m missing something obvious.”

  “This doesn’t all fall on you, babe. We got over a dozen people on this.”

  “But they’re not me.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “I know.” He kneads my knots out in silence for a few seconds before saying, “You working on anything that can’t wait until tomorrow morning?”

  “Not really. Why?”

  “I have a surprise for you. Get your purse.”

  I do love surprises.

  I collect my jacket and purse before following my guy out of mobile command. Of course we’re stopped halfway to the exit as Wolfe steps out of the lab. Gives me a chance to slip on my coat. “Will, do you know when they’re bringing in the next body?”

  “I just spoke to Chandler. Should be here in an hour or two.”

  “Well, when can you—”

  “I can’t. Whatever you’re about to say, no. Bea and I are off the clock for the rest of the night, alright? We’ll have our phones on but only call if someone’s dying. And I don’t mean bleeding, I mean literally dying. And spread the word.”

  “You’re just…taking off?” Wolfe asks, glancing at me. I shrug. News to me.

  “Yep. While Chandler’s in the field with Oliver, you’re in charge here. If you want to send everyone home, by all means. Everything will be here waiting for us tomorrow. Have a nice night.”

  “Um…”

  Will grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door before Wolfe can finish his protests, of which I’m sure he has many. He probably thinks Will’s lost his mind. Never, never has Will just abandoned a case for the night with so much still left to do. The man I love cracks the whip until we’re all bleeding. I’d say something, but if it means no more work tonight forget that. And I really do love surprises.

  Dahl’s still on the phone when we get outside. Without breaking our fast stride to the SUV, Will calls, “See you tomorrow, Jason!”

  Even in the darkness I can see Dahl’s eyes narrow at us in confusion. But we’re too quick for questions. We climb into the SUV and shut the doors. “What is going on?” I chuckle.

  Will starts the car. “Thought it was obvious. I’m kidnapping you for the night,” he says with a wicked grin.

  “We’re playing hooky? In the middle of a case? Everyone’s right, I am a bad influence on you.”

  “The worst, babe.” He takes my hand and presses it to his lips. “The absolute worst.”

  *

  “Seriously Will, where are we going?”

  I have no idea where we are. Not a clue. Outside Crawford somewhere in the freaking woods. There are barely any cars on the two lane road, no lights from houses, only the outlines of thick trees on top of more trees. If he really has lost his mind, this would be the perfect spot to dump my body.

  “I told you, it’s a surprise,” he chuckles. “One I hope you appreciate. It was a pain in the ass to put together.”

  Before I can hassle him further, my phone begins playing “The Stripper.” Oliver. Crud. If he’s at the park it might be important. I reach down to retrieve it from my purse. “Don’t,” Will snaps. “Bea…”

  “They could be under attack or something.” I accept the call. “Hello?”

  “I am phoning to inform you we have uncovered another body. A fresh one. We believe it is our Werewolf Doe. We should have him to mobile command in two to three hours.”

  “They found the dead werewolf,” I tell Will who has gone all scowly again. “Does he have ID on him or—”

  Out of nowhere, Will snatches the phone from my hand. “Unless lives are in immediate danger, you are not to call either of us until tomorrow morning. I mean it. Do not call again.” As if squishing a bug, Will stabs the end call button before handing it back to me. “Don’t answer it anymore.”

  “Okay…” I slip the phone back into my purse.

  “Jesus Christ, the man’s twenty miles away and still manages to ruin this!”

  “He hasn’t ruined anything,” I lie. The temperature is certainly about twenty degrees chillier in here. I take his hand off the wheel to hold mine. “Not if we don’t let him.”

  Will glances over again, his scowl morphing into an apologetic half smile. “I just…want everything to be perfect.”

  “It is perfect.” I press his hand to my lips. “I love you.”

  “Even though I’m a grumpy, ornery old werewolf with a short temper?”

  “Well…there’s always obedience training for those types of things,” I say with a smirk. “Should take about forty, fifty years of living with you day in and day out, but I’ll crack you eventually.”

  “Forty to fifty years, huh?” His smile grows to match mine. “You’re up for that kind of commitment, Agent Alexander?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that, Agent Price. The question is, are you?”

  He opens his mouth to respond, but something catches his eye on the left side of the road. He releases my hand, returning it to the wheel. “We’re here.”

  We turn down a gravel road, driving about a quarter mile into the woods, surrounded by bare yet dense trees and nothing else until we reach the end where a little lonely cabin sits. It’s cute, a one-story made of actual logs with a wraparound porch complete with rocking chairs. “Are you taking me to the Love Shack, baby?” I ask.

  “I am told it is where it’s at.”

  The first thing I notice as I climb out of the car, besides the cutting wind, is the sound of running water to my right. With my better than average night vision I can make out a rapidly moving creek about ten yards away. I’m sure this spot is beautiful in the day but right now all I care about is getting inside and not just because I’m freezing.

  After retrieving an overnight bag from the backseat, Will rounds the SUV, throwing his arm over my shoulders and pulling me in tight to his side as we hurry to the cabin. The butterflies begin fluttering from stomach to brain as he unlocks the door. This is it. This is really going to happen. I’m going to make love to my dream man. God, please let it be like riding a bicycle. Please let our bodies fit well together. Most importantly, please don’t let me kill him. Please.

  The door swings open to a living room bathed in soft orange light from the crackling fire in the far wall. Aww, he must have come here to get everything ready before he picked me up. My mouth literally drops open as I step in. It’s so homey. One large room with a futon couch, table, chairs, kitchenette, quilts like Nana makes hang on the walls, and two doors that must go to the bedroom and bathroom. It’s…perfect.

  “Like it?” Will asks, shutting the door behind us.

  “I love it,” I say breathlessly. This moment has literally taken my breath away. I twirl around and throw my arms over his shoulders. “I love you. I love you so much.”

  I kiss him. The moment our lips lock, we have liftoff
. Literally. He scoops me into his strong, comforting arms to draw me in closer, hoisting me off the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist. Lips, tongue all play in a frenzy as he moves us toward the fire. The bedroom’s too damn far away. May as well be on freaking Mars. He lowers me onto the sheepskin rug. Clothes. We have way too many clothes on. The kiss breaks as we struggle with jackets, shirts and pants. He beats me in the naked race, and I take just a second to appraise his amazing body. All his strong contours glow in the firelight like some mythical creature out of a fairy tale. And he’s all mine. Every last huge inch of him.

  As I rip my panties off, he reaches into his discarded pants pocket, removing a condom. I never minded those things before but tonight I do. Screw caution, screw consequences, I don’t want anything separating us. I want his flesh touching mine, inside mine with no barriers. We’ve had enough barriers already. But he rolls it on anyway. Without hesitation, I open my legs to allow him to crawl between them. I’m ready for him. My whole body’s ready for him, literally quivering in anticipation, especially the tender, wet flesh between my legs. But he doesn’t take advantage. Instead he hovers over me, gazing into my eyes as he draws his fingers down my cheek, my neck, the slope of my exposed breasts. I suck in my breath as he trails over my nipple, which puckers and tightens at this touch. That breath comes out as a shiver as those same fingers press into me. His thumb circles my clitoris as he teases that sensitive spot inside, every one of my nerve endings firing with every stroke. And I was worried about exploding his brain.

  “You’re so wet. You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I love you so fucking much. I love you.”

  It’s unbearable when he removes those expert digits to grab my leg and position it over his hip. If he doesn’t—

  Holy shit!

  He thrusts into the very end of me with little grace. It’s been years since that final Saturday night with Steven, so having anything there is kind of a shock to the system, never mind something so large. I force the pain from my mind as best as I can as he pulls back only to slide a little gentler this time. By the fourth time I begin to catch his rhythm, my hips dancing with his, and by the sixth nothing remains but pleasure, the divine pleasure radiating from where we’re connected. Where we’re one. We rock harder, faster as I cry out into the silence. Whimper. Moan. I dig my fingers into the flesh of his back, that butt I adore so much. With each thrust that heat, that tension mounts inside me. It’s freaking brilliant. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him inside me deeper. Deeper, until it almost hurts. As deep as the kisses, the deft strokes of his tongue playing with mine. He’s everywhere. Filling me. Loving me. Where he belongs. Worth the wait. This was so worth all the pain, the heartbreak, the longing, the—

  “Oh, God!” Will calls.

  He shudders on top of me, inside me, as with the one final thrust he breaks, collapsing onto me, into my arms. His manhood becomes as limp as the rest of him, spent from the last far too few minutes of bliss. I’m spent too, my breath ragged but equalizing as he rolls off me onto his back. I close my eyes to gain control, but I’m still just a jangle of open nerve endings, especially down below where I’m literally aching, hell downright burning for deliverance. I was close. Very close. God, I hate being a woman sometimes.

  We lie shoulder to sweaty shoulder with nothing but our heavy breaths and the crackling fire for a soundtrack until we catch our breath. “I’m sorry,” Will says after about thirty seconds.

  “Why?”

  “It’s been over eight years. I was a little trigger happy there.”

  “It’s alright. I’m not even sure I can that way. I never did before. Some women—”

  He shifts beside me, and I open my eyes just in time to watch him take position between my legs again, erection at full salute already. I think I’m going to love and hate having a lover with supernatural recovery time in the coming years. This time he slowly enters me, gliding in like silk, while positioning my legs around his waist so my hips once more lift off the soft rug. “Tell me when it feels good,” he whispers into my ear before kissing the lobe. I shift to the left, then right as he adjusts as well. The moment he hits that sweet spot my eyes all but roll into the back of my head. Oooh, golly! Undiscovered country located, he picks up the pace, this time following my furious arching, forcing him in deeper and deeper until he reaches my very end, pleasure and pain as entwined as we are. Over. And over. And over. Sharper. Tighter. Tenser. Growing behind my eyes, in my toes, all encompassing and astounding. Nerves, soul on fire until…until…

  Kaboom!

  I literally scream as the spasms, both of ours, shatter this very world. In the afterglow, the crash from the couch falling from the ceiling onto the hardwood floor doesn’t even startle us. How could it? There is nothing in this universe, in heaven or hell, but he and I. The psychic and the werewolf, the freaks, who finally found each other among the dead bodies and pain and misery and loneliness life keeps throwing at them. Thank you, God. Thank you for this man. Thank you for his love.

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  There’s Got To Be a Morning After.

  Damn It.

  So much for the theory that if we slept together I’d be able to focus on the job. As we drive to mobile command on this beautiful sunny day all I can think of is getting him naked and inside me again. He may as well be. I can all but feel him still. This is my favorite kind of sore though. Five times in one night, six if I count the fireside as two will do that to a gal. From the floor we moved to the couch. Then the floor again. Then we finally made it to the bedroom. Finally, I woke at dawn to find him gone. I wrapped myself in a quilt and joined him on the back porch to watch the sun rise over the mountains. He pulled me onto his lap in the rocking chair, but I took charge from there. Slow but sweet. It would have been a true five but I was so spent I refused him entrance to my shower. Go willpower!

  I’m exhausted, sore, and have been shattered and reassembled multiple times. I’ve never been happier. But the real world calls with all its problems and concerns. Of which there is one that overshadows them all, one even more pressing than murderous werewolves.

  “Have you seen a pharmacy around here?” I ask my lover.

  “There’s a CVS near the hotel. Why? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No! No, I just…we didn’t use protection the last time. I should probably, you know…morning after pill? I’m not on anything. Yet.”

  “Oh. That didn’t even occur to me. We can swing by.” He pauses. “Or…”

  “Or…” I prompt.

  He shrugs. “I mean, you know, would it be so bad? Really?”

  Is he…does he mean what I think he does? I glance over and darned if he isn’t smiling at the prospect. When he catches me looking, he raises an eyebrow. Holy Hannah, he’s serious. I quickly do the math. Auntie Flo’s a week away, we should be safe, but barely. But would it be terrible? Heck no. I’ve wanted his babies since the first day we met. “No,” I say with a matching grin, “it wouldn’t.”

  “Okay then.”

  Okay. We drive in silence for a minute as the wheels in my mind spin, inevitably landing on Realityville for $100. “Are we moving too fast?” I spurt out.

  “Bea, we can go to the pharmacy. It’s okay.”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just…we’ve only officially been a couple a week. We haven’t even known each other a year, Will. Now we’re seriously talking babies. It’s like warp speed ahead. It’s not normal.”

  “Babe, you said it yourself at Christmas: we’re not normal. Forgetting all the psychic/werewolf bullshit, you and I have endured more than most people do in three lifetimes. We know how fragile this life is. We know how rare it is to find someone to connect to, really connect to. I’ve loved you for months, hell practically since I first met you, and I almost lost you half a dozen times. I wasted so much time fighting it, fighting you, I don’t want to waste another damn second. I love you. You love me. We want th
e same things out of life. We respect each other. We make each other happy. Most couples can’t claim one of those damn things. So to outsiders, yeah, we’re moving fast. But fuck them. All that matters is what we think. And for me, if anything, we’re moving too damn slow. If I had the balls to tell you how I felt nine months ago, six months, hell two months ago, we’d already be back from our honeymoon or painting a nursery. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be the mother of my children and wake beside me every morning. Do you feel the same?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Then there you have it. We found each other. We found happiness. We’re just not used to it, that’s all. Stop trying to put holes in this. I’ve done that enough for the both of us for months. I almost sank the damn ship because of it, so don’t you start.” He flashes me a smile to show he’s joking, and I return it. “Besides, I’m almost eligible for AARP membership. I want to have children while I can still play with them. And have the strength to throw our daughter’s boyfriends out of damn windows.”

  “Ha ha,” I quip.

  Oh, crud. I can see the turn for mobile command and grimace. Our night of debauchery is officially over. Dead bodies and murderers ahoy. Yet I feel something akin to relief. I’m too tired for this life changing conversation. “Let’s table this, huh? Bad guys to catch. Need our heads in the game.”

  “That is going to be damn difficult, Agent Alexander. It’s taking every ounce of willpower not to turn this car back around, lock the doors to the cabin, and not let you leave. I have the cabin rented for the week.

  “Pretty sure you just described kidnapping, Will,” I chuckle.

  “Twenty years in the clink would be worth it,” he says with a grin. He pulls up to the trailer. “We’ll just have to catch these bastards real fast, or I might just lose my damn mind.” He shuts off the car. “I love you.”

 

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