Punish (Feral Justice Book 1)

by Vella Munn

  “Skagway,” she muttered. Tears clogged her throat but she pushed past them. “There’s a museum there devoted to the gold miners. I’d love—”

  “Think we could make a living mining for gold?”

  ‘We’. It was her turn to say something only she couldn’t put what she felt into words. She knew what they were doing, escaping the hell that was today. This wasn’t about vacationing in Alaska, it was about admitting they both wanted out. And that they wanted the same out.

  Nate was tall and muscular with deep-set eyes, a firm jaw, narrow hips. Hips that sheltered his—

  Sensual heat attacked, robbing her of the ability to speak, to think. Reality had to be dealt with, but right now she was studying a man. Not just any man but the only one on earth who understood what she was going through.

  Unless her vulnerability had turned her so stupid she couldn’t read him, he’d been touched by the same heat. A glance at his crotch supplied the answer. He was aroused.

  She didn’t want to speak, didn’t want a single word shattering this insane spell. These moments might be the only peaceful ones she’d have for a long time, maybe for the rest of her life. All right, so there was nothing peaceful about what was happening to her nerve endings. It still felt good. She felt good, alive. A woman.

  In the presence of a special man.

  What did she mean, special? Nate could destroy not just the grays but her father too.

  No! Don’t think that now. Don’t think.

  Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders. Trembling, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. His body radiated strength and sex.

  Hunger grasped her in its jaws and shook her until, if she’d had a knife, she’d slash Nate’s clothes off him. Not caring what he’d think, she reared back and tackled his shirt buttons. One buttonhole refused to cooperate. She yanked.

  “Not like that.”

  Before she could tell him she didn’t need any help, he pushed her hands aside and finished the job. That done, he pulled the shirt out of his waistband and over his head. It landed on her dad’s bed.

  What would Dad think?

  “My turn.” Nate started in on her blouse buttons. With simple words and not so simple actions, he took her far from the question.

  Short seconds later her blouse was on top of his shirt. He hadn’t worn a T-shirt so was already naked from the waist up. Trying to swallow, she took a backward step so she’d have a clear view of his chest.

  The hairs there were lighter than those on his head. They dusted his hard front. How old was he, mid-thirties? Not bad, way not bad. Much better than if he didn’t take care of himself, and yet that wouldn’t have made any difference to her today.

  She was going to jump his bones. Spread her legs for him.

  He reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Her arms fell to her sides. At least she had the wherewithal to widen her stance so she wouldn’t lose her balance.

  Before she fully comprehended what was happening, her bra landed next to their discarded clothes. She sucked in her belly and acknowledged her size 34-B breasts and nudity.

  “I’ve wanted to see you like this ever since…”

  “Ever since when?” She’d been aware of his maleness from the first.

  “Beautiful.” He cupped her breasts. His fingertips glided over her flesh, kissing the pale skin and lingering over her already hard nipples.

  She repeatedly made fists. Even when her fingers started to cramp, she didn’t stop. The burning sensation became part of the experience. She wanted to be touched but not touch, to anticipate and experience.

  Then, as if a switch had been turned on, she gripped his shoulders and tried to drag him against her. He briefly explored her breasts. Then he abandoned them and placed his hands over her buttocks.

  “There.” He forced her against his erection. “That’s my message.”

  She met him strength for strength. Dizzy was good. Dizzy kept her deep inside herself where pleasure pulsed. She was vaguely aware that her nails were raking his upper arms, but she had to do something fierce. Rocking from side to side contributed to her lightheadedness and handed her a constant reminder of how ready he was.

  Sex. Yes!

  His hands traveled from her buttocks to her hips. He hoisted her onto the bed. Her legs dangled over the side, her feet inches from the floor. She took a deep, hopefully calming breath only to come up against a mix of dog smell and clean sheets. When Nate pushed her legs apart with his knee and leaned over her, his scent overrode everything else. He seized her wrists and brought her arms over her head, imprisoning her.

  “Oh God.” She managed to raise her head.

  He smiled, the expression somewhere between pleasure and domination. Then his features became hazy. A second later his mouth covered her right breast. He bathed her nipple.

  “Oh, oh.”

  Maybe she’d only imagined the growl sliding from his throat. Maybe not. As he continued his assault on her breast, she rocked, careful not to dislodge him.

  She couldn’t escape, not with his hands forcing hers against the mattress and his legs keeping hers splayed. Heat rolled off him in waves. Her body worshipped his gift.

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  The drawing sensation on her breast continued until it felt as if she’d become part of him. She’d made her peace with living alone, making her own decisions and taking her lumps, but Nate’s presence changed all that.

  Do me. Crawl on top of me and do me. Make me scream.

  She whimpered, a soft sound at odds with her inner rage.

  Heated air glided over her wet breast and it started to cool. She opened her eyes, surprised to realize she’d closed them, and blinked rapidly until his features came into focus.

  “What?” she asked.

  “This.”

  Nate’s deep, ragged breathing distracted her as he jerked off her shoes. By the time he started in on her slacks’ fastening she’d recovered enough to help by hoisting her buttocks off the mattress. The garment stained with Smoke’s blood slipped over her hips, thighs and calves. Then it was gone, leaving her naked except for her practical panties.

  Nate dispensed with the final garment.

  Oh yes, yes! They were going to have sex. Soon. In seconds.

  Her body served her well, if not spectacularly. Today she saw it as an instrument for him to play, what he needed to get past tension and into pleasure. The core of her own pleasure.

  “Your turn.” She braced herself on her arms and half sat up. “I want you naked.”

  “Yeah.” His head bobbed. “Yeah.”

  Watching him lift one leg then the other so he could deal with his shoes and socks excited her even more. Then his fingers headed for his zipper, and she nearly lost it. She repeatedly tightened her sex muscles. What did she need with foreplay? She was slick and soft, ready for his strength. Desperate to feel him inside her.

  A thought surfaced. She shoved it away but it returned. Killed fantasy.

  “Protection.” She forced the word.

  “Yeah, protection.”

  A lifetime ago when she was engaged, she’d taken birth control pills, but she hadn’t had sex since the breakup and had let her prescription lapse.

  He stepped out of his slacks, paused with his hands at his hips, then shoved his briefs down. His gaze stayed on her as he picked up his slacks. He pulled out his wallet, opened it and withdrew a foil package. “I figure—it hardly ever happens but it’s better to be prepared.”

  As he tore open the wrapper, she studied herself. Her breasts sagged a little. Her belly had sunk between her hip bones and she’d mostly closed her legs. She’d never shaved her pubic hair, but then there wasn’t much of it.

  Did he approve of what she had to offer? Maybe he was too far gone to care what his sex partner looked like.

  Teeth clenched and nostrils flaring, she watched as he rolled the condom into place. Her muscles jumped, her cheeks felt as if they were on fire, and sh
e couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. One second she was weightless, the next she became so heavy she couldn’t move.

  Thoughts seeped into her, then died. She was alive and hungry. Nothing else mattered.

  “Now,” he whispered.

  He started to crawl onto the bed next to her. Now, now, now. The words beat at her and made her crazy. Growling, she reared up and grabbed hold of him, bending her knees and splaying her legs outward as she did. She tried to pull him down on top of her, but he overrode her. At least he was between her legs and—

  Yes! Sliding into her. Filling her.

  A hiss escaped her, followed by a whimper. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her breasts against his ribs.

  Even as she rocked against him, she acknowledged he was taking over. His greater strength surrounded and swallowed her.

  Lost. Feeling nothing but the act of making love. Shutting out the world, sinking deep into movement and heat.

  Newly energized, she hung on as he rode her. His body strained and sweated. Movement built upon movement. She responded with the same fierce strength.

  Sex, sex. Yes, sex!

  Her climax threatened to tear her apart, compelling her to hold even tighter to the man responsible for this wildness. She felt it begin. Then her sex muscles began to contract and she was gone. Lost in pleasure. She sobbed, maybe screamed.

  “Yes!” he exclaimed.

  Sanity started to return. She realized he’d fallen into his own release. She rode with him as he powered into her. When he was done, he collapsed against her. Their sweat-stained bodies sealed, and she went to a place without thought.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nate waited until Rachelle had gone into the bathroom before pushing himself off the bed and reaching for his clothes. He felt more than a little drunk, which was better than having to face himself.

  Like his, Joe’s place was sparsely decorated. It was cleaner than he’d expected. There was a clock near the bed but no stereo or TV in the room. Obviously Joe used his bedroom for one thing, sleeping.

  With the dogs.

  When Rachelle opened the bathroom door, he saw she’d put on everything except for her shoes. She’d had no hesitancy about getting rid of her clothes before sex. Now, however, she was—no, he didn’t believe she was shy. More likely she was using her blouse and slacks as a way of throwing up a necessary barrier between them.

  That was why he’d gotten dressed.

  “I’m not going to talk about it,” she said as she sat on the bed so she could slip on her shoes. “And I don’t think you want to either.”

  “No.”

  She seemed smaller than he remembered, stripped of the determination that had held her together during the crises with the man she now called Dad. Maybe he should try to convince himself they’d had sex as a way of briefly escaping their shared nightmare, but the longer he studied her, the stronger his conviction that their connection went beyond the physical.

  And that having sex with her was part of the insanity he was living.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “What I should have done last night.”

  Her slim fingers went to her throat. “Which is to tell the police you know who killed the poacher.”

  “Not just the police. There’s also the people I work with.”

  “Are they going to fault you for not—have you risked your job?”

  “I don’t know.” But he did.

  “I hate this,” she muttered. “I’d give anything for it to be different. The grays—when they’re with Dad, they’re gentle, loving creatures. Smoke trusted me enough to let me pull the pellets out of her.”

  “But there’s another side to them.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He paced to the broken window. Even though he couldn’t see the grays, their presence waited for him. Cast another layer of their spell over him.

  Enough! This can’t go on.

  The cell clipped to his waist vibrated.

  “Nate,” the male caller said. “It’s Wayde Carlson. Do you remember me? I raise wolf-dogs out by—”

  “I know who you are. You talked to my coworker about having to shoot a stray.”

  Rachelle pressed a hand to her belly.

  “I wanted to talk to you but I couldn’t reach you. That business on the news about another killing—I figured you were busy dealing with that.”

  “I was but I have time now. What is it?”

  Wayde sighed. “It might not matter but—what am I saying? It does.”

  “Is it about the three killings?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Hope?” Nate’s gut tightened as he put the phone on speaker. “Go on. The person I’m with may need to hear this.”

  “Yeah, okay. I sweated saying anything to your coworker about taking buckshot to that big mutt because I didn’t want to get in trouble, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It was just here again. With reinforcements. Two of them. A total of three gray dogs.”

  Rachelle reached for him but wound up shaking her head.

  “What did they do?” Nate prompted.

  “You’re not going to want to hear this. I can’t believe it myself.”

  Judging by Rachelle’s expression, he half expected her to pass out. She clenched her jaw and fisted her fingers.

  “Are they still there?”

  “No. Nate, Lobo went with them.”

  Lobo. Wayde’s beautifully remote young male. “What? How’d he get out? That fencing—”

  “Has always kept him in.” Wayde’s voice shook. “It was like—he raced to the fence and crawled up it like it wasn’t there. Do…”

  “What were you going to say?” Nate asked after a moment. Much as he wanted to comfort Rachelle right now, getting Wayde’s story was more important. Lobo had a lot of wolf in him. He was a predator, would never be someone’s pet. Damn! This was his fault. If he’d already blown the whistle—

  “I’m wondering if it’s possible those three gray beasts came specifically for Lobo?”

  Nate wasn’t surprised when Rachelle nodded. He’d come to the same conclusion. “I don’t know. Did you see where they went?”

  “They headed south. Running.”

  “All four were together? Lobo is a loner. He wouldn’t hook up with dogs.”

  “That’s what I’ve always thought, but it was like—when my hybrids started howling, I grabbed my rifle and went outside. But even when I realized there were three huge dogs, I didn’t fire. Don’t ask me why. I couldn’t. Those grays were fascinating, as awesome in their own way as my wolf-dogs are.”

  “Lobo didn’t attack my—the grays?” Rachelle asked, then clamped her hand over her mouth.

  “Huh? Oh, hi whoever you are. No, he didn’t. None of them raised a single hackle when they got together. Lobo touched his nose to each gray like they were old friends or something. Then he studied me. It was, this is going to sound crazy, but I swear he was telling me he was glad I was seeing this.” Wayde’s sigh filled Nate with the image of a young man trying to grasp the ungraspable.

  “Then they all took off. The rest of my wolf-dogs were losing their minds. I’ve never seen anything like that. Nate?”

  Rachelle held out her hand and he took it. “What?” he made himself ask.

  “The news is all about the latest guy who got torn apart, but there aren’t many specifics. Do you know how many dogs were involved in that killing?”

  I’m sorry, I can’t tell you. The investigation—I don’t have the words. They’re stuck in me. “Three.”

  “Damn, damn, I was scared of that. I don’t want Lobo involved in this.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.”

  “Why did those dogs come for him and why did he go with them?”

  “I don’t know.” But I need to.

  * * * *

  For the first time in her life, Smoke didn’t want to run. Her wounds stung and her body was telling her to
rest. As a result, she led the others into the hills, where hopefully they’d find a secluded area.

  Matching her pace, the newcomer pulled alongside. His scent seeped into her, invigorating her until she was barely aware that she’d been injured. He was smaller than her and her brothers, but she’d watched him long enough to know his endurance more than made up for his size limitations.

  They sailed over a fallen tree, their bodies in harmony. Her belief that this was right increased. He was a dog and yet he wasn’t, wild in ways she couldn’t comprehend.

  Another downed tree lay ahead of them, this one too big to jump over. Deciding to go around it, she turned to the left. The newcomer pushed against her shoulder. For a moment she thought he was going to fight her. Then he leaped ahead, angling to the right. She followed him and realized he was taking them around the tree’s torn-up root ball.

  Once the tree was behind them, the newcomer took the lead. After several minutes he stopped and faced her and her brothers. When he exposed his fangs, she noted how large they were. His powerful jaws were made for killing.

  She stood her ground as he extended his muzzle and licked her face. A thrill ran through her, causing her to whine and lift her tail.

  “Wolf. Predator.”

  Accustomed as she was to messages from the Force, she accepted this one without question. The word ‘wolf’ was as foreign to her as the newcomer’s distinct and exciting scent, but she knew she and her brothers were predators.

  The Force had sent her to another of their kind.

  Their work wasn’t finished. It would never be. As long as they were alive, the need for justice ruled them. Also, the more predators were under the Force’s command, the more impact they would have.

  * * * *

  It wasn’t until Nate walked into Crosby’s office that he acknowledged why he had to force every step. Granted, this was at the top of things he most didn’t want to do in life, but that wasn’t the only reason he felt as if he’d been run to the ground. Sex had left its impact on him, as had trying to answer the why behind his frantic coupling with Rachelle, but mostly he was tired. Going more than twenty-four hours without sleep did that to a person.