by CJ Ellisson
“Oh… Jesus.”
She got down on her knees and sucked his cock into her hot mouth, sliding his entire length between her pouty lips. He pulled the wet strands from her face and thrust into the slick cavern of her mouth. She jerked, sucked, and ran her tongue over him like he was a tasty piece of candy and she had a craving for sugar.
After a few minutes of enjoying her lavishing pleasure on his cock, he grabbed her by the arms and tugged her off him.
“Hey!”
“I love how you suck my cock, but I really want to fuck you now.”
“Si, please.” She moaned and curled one leg around his hip. “I need you.”
He palmed her ass cheeks and lifted her up until both her legs went around his waist. She held on to his neck and started kissing him with so much desperation and passion he almost lost sight of what he was supposed to be doing. He lowered her onto his cock, gliding her body down, her pussy sucking his cock on its descent. Their gazes locked. Her eyes were filled with passionate need.
“Fuck me.” She moaned into his lips.
He slammed his back against the tiled wall, the move shoving his cock deeper into her.
She whimpered. “Oh. That feels so good.”
Trent lifted and dropped her on his cock repeatedly, her muscles clenching on every slide down, heightening his pleasure. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her teeth nipped at his jaw, and her breasts rubbed on his chest. He squeezed her ass and rocked her on his cock. She groaned, licked his neck, and sucked on his lip.
“So good…Harder!”
He groaned and chuckled. Even in the middle of sex she couldn’t stop being bossy. God, he really must be in love, because there could be no other reason for him to find that cute.
Holding her firmly by her ass, he continued to lift and drop her. She moaned, groaned, wiggled her hips, and begged him for more. He increased speed, and she sighed and dropped butterfly kisses on his neck in approval.
“Yes…Fuck. I’m so close. So close...” Her breath hitched. Her pussy fluttered, and her muscles squeezed his cock. She bit her lip and moaned, shaking and arching into him as she climaxed.
The tight grip her body had over his shaft sent him over the edge. His orgasm shot down his spine, lighting nerve endings and sparking fires in his brain, until it gathered at his cock. His balls drew tight. He shivered and growled into her shoulder when he came. They panted and stared at each other for a moment. Something other than lust shone in her eyes. He lowered her legs to the tub floor, cupped her face, and kissed her.
He pulled a fluffy towel off a shelf and dried her off first and himself after. When she held his hand on their way to bed, his smile could not be contained. But when she curled into his side on the bed, searching for his touch, he knew that they were moving in the right direction.
Once they were settled comfortably on the bed, he was surprised when she brought up the subject he’d been afraid to speak of.
“So what do you do that makes you interesting enough to be on this unit. Are you psychic or something?” Her soft words made his nerves rise.
“No. My ability is different than yours.”
She glanced up at him, her eyes filled with curiosity, and smiled. “Well what is it? You know my deep dark secret. Or don’t you trust me?”
“God, no! That’s not it at all. It’s just that…I’m a little concerned with what you’ll think.”
The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Trust me, I’m the last person to judge, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
He scented her concern, and it made the decision for him. “I’m a shifter.”
She frowned. “A what?”
He gulped. His wolf paced inside him, worried over what his mate would think. “I can shift from man to animal.”
Her eyes went saucer-wide. “Y-you…you can?”
He nodded, his heart pounding so loud in his ears he could hardly hear her words.
“What, um, what animal can you shift into?”
“A wolf.”
He waited, watching her for any signs of disgust, fear, or dislike. After a moment her smile grew wider.
“That is…amazing. I wish I could do something that cool.”
He laughed. He couldn’t believe how well she’d taken it. Tugging her up for a kiss, he hugged her tight and grinned. “It is pretty cool.”
“Will you show me?” She licked her lips and caressed a finger over his jaw. “Not now, but when we’re somewhere that’s easy for you to shift?”
“I promise to show you soon. Real soon.”
“This is great. Much better than me thinking you were some kind of psychic or a witch.” She yawned.
“No witch here, just a wolf.”
“My wolf.” Her words were heavy with sleep, but they filled his heart with joy. She didn’t realize just how right she was. He was her wolf, he thought as he let sleep claim him.
A soft whimper woke him from sleep. He turned to look at Erica who was curled away from him in the fetal position. Slowly, he turned her, pulling her into his arms. She shifted and ended up draped over him, hugging his upper body, her arms going around his torso.
“Make it stop,” she mumbled low, voice thick with sleep and tears.
He peeked down at her face, but she was still asleep.
“Shhh, my love. It’s alright. I’m here with you. I’ll never leave you.” He promised. It was a while later, and a lot of comforting words and caresses from him, before Erica finally fell into a quiet sleep.
He was more determined than ever to prove to her he was the right man for her, because he knew that she was definitely the right woman for him and his wolf.
The following morning found the group headed back to the college. Brock drove his vehicle along with Rodriguez. Trent, Erica, and Donovan took the Jeep. It had been decided early on that they would move in on this quickly. Neither Brock nor Erica wanted to wait around for a new body to appear. So they were going in to search Melanie’s room as a group. When they reached the campus housing for Melanie Lee, they parked outside the victim’s building.
Erica observed while Brock opened the door to Melanie’s dorm room. He held it open for her to walk in ahead of everyone. She didn’t touch anything at first. Her gaze scanned the room for anything that might help the investigation. Framed photos lined the walls. One in particular caught Erica’s attention.
It was the same as Gina Torres. Melanie was dressed in costume with a masqueraded man to either side and two other men at her back. One had his mask askew: Derek Holmes. She couldn’t make out the other man’s face under his mask. She frowned and stared at Derek Holmes. The same sick, twisting sensation she’d had when he’d gotten into his car had returned.
“I really need to see Derek Holmes again. I know there’s something I’m missing with that kid.” She said. When she turned, everyone stared at her, all watching her quietly. None of them gave her any strange looks, more like expectant, waiting to see if she could come up with something.
Brock nodded. “You got it. I’m going to get you in to see both brothers today.”
Erica strolled up to Melanie’s bed. Pink and purple covered most of the surfaces on everything in the small room, as well as the bedding and decorations. It was so perfectly organized it would make any anal-retentive person proud.
She took a breath, noting that Trent stood right beside her, while Brock and the others waited further back.
“Erica?” Brock’s voice stopped her before she grabbed the blanket.
She turned to face her boss and friend. He never called her by her given name in front of anyone else. “I’ve filled Jane and Tony in on your special ability and the need to keep it under wraps at all times.”
Tony and Jane nodded, both their faces showed nothing but concern. “We’ve got your back, E,” Tony vowed.
“All the time,” Jane added.
Her heart constricted. For so long she’d been made to feel inadequate because of what she did, what sh
e saw. Now the people that could make her life more difficult were letting her know nothing had changed. She’d have to talk to Brock about outing her. Even if he felt it necessary, he should have consulted her first. Trent’s warmth radiated toward her.
“I’m right here, sweetheart.”
Her wolf. He made her feel so protected. It was easier to delve into the darkness of evil with him by her side. More determined than ever to find the killer, she took another breath and grabbed hold of the pink and purple blanket.
Melanie peered around her, trying to make sense of what was going on. A searing pain took hold of her stomach. It was hard to focus, but she tried by blinking several times. She was tied to a reclining seat. The musky scent of rain or water drifted all around her, but she still didn’t know where she was. There wasn’t any loud, pulsing music this time. Nothing to help her figure out where Melanie was.
She glanced around in a hazy circle. Melanie had been drugged as well. She peeked down at her stomach. He’d already cut the words into her. The figure wearing a dark hood approached her from the shadows. His face was completely unidentifiable in the badly lit room.
“You shouldn’t have rejected me,” he whispered in a deep angry hiss. “I’m better than him.”
Melanie’s screams of pain while he stabbed her made it hard for Erica to hold on to the scene. When she opened her eyes she was on Trent’s lap in the Jeep.
Brock sat in the front passenger side looking back at her, while Tony took the driver’s seat.
Trent caressed her face. “How are you doing?”
She shook her head and leaned into him. “Not good. I got nothing. Nothing we didn’t have before. Where are we going?”
She finally realized the vehicle was moving.
“We got word a new girl has gone missing. We’re going to her house now.” Brock’s grim face made her stomach knot. Another girl. She’d had a feeling the killer would step up his game. Now here she was, with a new missing person and no leads. She needed to see Derek Holmes again.
“Brock I really think Derek Holmes might have something to do with this. I want to see him right away.” She sounded frantic even to her own ears, but she wouldn’t let this new girl die.
Brock nodded. “We’ll go see the new missing girl’s family. See what we can gather from them, and then you and Trent can head to the Holmes household. We’ll see about gathering information on this girl.”
“What’s her name?” Erica’s vision blurred. She rubbed a hand over her forehead; a migraine was taking hold.
“Casey Young.” Brock replied just as they reached a large Victorian home nestled in a quiet and affluent neighborhood. The houses looked like they’d been pulled out of a House and Garden magazine.
Police officers greeted them at the door, along with a very concerned set of parents. Erica addressed the mother. “Where’s Casey’s room?”
The woman didn’t question Erica’s abrupt tone of voice, just guided her to the girl’s bedroom. She opened the door and pointed Erica inside. “This is Casey’s room. No one comes in here so everything is exactly as she left it yesterday.”
Trent and Brock followed behind her. Trent made his way to her side. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“We’re out of time, Trent. I need to see.” She glanced up at the mirror. A picture, just like the one in Melanie and Gina’s rooms sat there. Casey was dressed in costume and an unmasked Derek Holmes stood to one side, hugging her. Two other men were at her back. To her other side was a different guy in a mask. Had all the girls attended the same party? She stared at the man to her right and was caught by something about him. There. His arm was draped over Casey’s shoulder, the move showed off a pentagram tattoo on the top of his hand.
“What are you staring at?” Brock asked.
“Remember how I mentioned these photos with the masked men? We need to see if we can find out who these guys are. Clearly one of them is Derek Holmes. The other victims also had photos like this. Who knows if one of the other three is our man?” She continued eyeing the man’s hand. She remembered seeing the same tattoo on the man in both Melanie and Gina’s photos. Clearly the guy was the same throughout. She wondered who he was.
“Get the full story from the cops. I’ll stay here with her.” Brock said.
Trent hesitated, but after a moment left to follow Brock’s orders.
Something about the photograph made Erica grab hold of it.
She gasped, immediately surrounded by darkness. Casey’s eyes had been blindfolded, the girl couldn’t see anything, and because of that neither could Erica.
“They’re not going to find you. Don’t worry doll, I won’t kill you for a few days. I’m going to have some fun with you first,” a deep voice whispered by her ear.
Casey’s heart beat so loud it was almost impossible for Erica to make out what the man said. Casey mumbled over the gag in her mouth.
“No. You had your chance. I wanted you more than the others. They were all whores, but you, you were smarter, better. I knew we could work well. But you still chose to reject me in favor of a womanizing dog. You need to get hurt. It will teach you about turning me down.”
Erica was pulled from the conversation when someone called out to her.
“Erica?” Brock carried her this time.
“What happened? Why’d you pull me back?” she growled.
Anger overran every thought. She’d been so close. If only she had heard more, she might know where he had her. Already she knew it was possible Casey wasn’t dead. Which meant she needed to find her. Right. Now. Erica wiggled in Brock’s grasp, wanting to be let down.
“Stop it.” He sighed. “You started shaking and breathing shallow. We couldn’t just leave you like that.”
“Where’s Trent?” she asked, needing him close now that she was tired and scared for Casey. He was the only person she wanted to see.
“He’ll be out in a moment. He and Tony are still gathering details from the police while Jane speaks to the parents.” Brock set her down in front of the Jeep and opened the door for her to sit in the front passenger side.
She looked Brock straight in the eyes. “She’s alive, Brock. And I need to speak to Derek Holmes. He’s linked to this somehow. I don’t know why I didn’t see it when I met him, but it was there when I touched that photo.”
“Fine. You and Trent can go ahead to the Holmes residence. We’ll continue gathering information here.”
Trent jogged toward them. Seeing him made her feel better instantly.
Chapter Eleven
“So why are we going back to the Holmes household?” Trent took his eyes off the road to quickly glance at Erica. She had her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and a deep frown covered her face. Fear came off her in waves, spiking his own anxiety over her safety.
“I need to see Derek Holmes again. Everything leads back to him somehow, and I don’t know why I couldn’t feel it when I touched him. He’s not that mentally strong, and no true evil came through before. But I’m not perfect. So maybe this is one of those times we can’t depend of my sight.”
“Let’s do it the old-fashioned way then. Derek Holmes knew each of these victims, including Casey Young. They’ve all dated him and had some connection to him. It seems to me he is our most likely suspect.”
He gazed at Erica again and saw her shake her head and bite her lip. “It’s not that simple. Derek Holmes is a Casanova. He thrives on female attention. I just don’t see him that worried about a couple of girls he dumped. From what we know he’s the one that cut each of these girls off for the next one. So why would he want to kill them after? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Trent pulled into a long private driveway. At the end of the circular drive stood an imposing, Victorian-style mansion. The Holmeses had a lot of money. And a lot of high-powered connections.
Erica jumped out of the Jeep before he had a chance to completely stop the car. Her ponytail swung down her back when she jogged toward the fro
nt door. As he got to her side, the front door opened from inside.
A tall, older man dressed in a gray butler suit eyed both of them with interest. “May I help you?”
Trent pulled out his identification. “Yes, we’re here to speak to Derek and Anthony Holmes.”
The man’s brows lifted but said nothing for a moment. “Neither the younger nor older Holmes are present at this time.”
“Well where are they?” Erica’s stepped forward, crowding the butler.
The butler frowned at Erica’s aggravated tone but answered her question. “Derek is at the country club with friends and Anthony may or may not be at his cabin.”
“Do you mind if we come inside and look around a little?”
The butler gave him a stiff nod. “Not at all. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes indicated you would be stopping by and to allow you to look around and answer any questions if necessary.”
Trent followed behind Erica into the large receiving area. He watched her immediately regard everything, searching for a clue or something to help guide her in understanding what Derek Holmes was about.
Unfortunately, that area of the house was like a hotel room, completely impersonal. Trent sensed her frustration rising. She’d fisted her hands tightly to her sides. They moved down a corridor to the next open space. A family room.
A large portrait of the family, hanging over the fireplace, caught Erica’s attention. She stopped mid-step and stared.
Trent stepped up beside her, wondering what it was about the photo that made her lose all color to her face. He whispered near her ear. “What is it?”
Erica turned a horrified face toward him “That’s the second man in the photos with the victims.” She whispered and glanced at the butler, who had been following quietly behind them. Her voice shook, and she pointed to the family portrait. “Who is he?”
The butler moved up beside them. “The photo is Mr. and Mrs. Holmes and their sons.”
