Taste for Alphas: Paranormal Fantasy Shifter Romance

by Milly Taiden

  They were parked in front of the Main Street store next to the police station.

  Ramirez strolled out of the store with two bottled waters, stopped, and handed one to her. “Jesus, Villa. If this is how you get when you don’t get enough sleep, I don’t want to see you when you break night. Your eyes are all raccoon-like. You’re zombie movie material for sure.”

  She glared at him “Que chistoso. Real cute.”

  She drank the water, but after a few sips she stopped, remembering they were about to go look at another body.

  Trent watched Erica walk into the morgue like she was on death row. Her face was pale, and her lips were pursed. She curled her nails into her palms. He frowned. Had she done that before? He couldn’t recall if her nerves had been that obvious the previous day. Fear came off her in waves. Ramirez, ahead of them, opened and held the door. His need to protect her, from whatever it was making her scared, made his animal pull at the skin cage. It was hard for him to breathe and took him a moment to calm his wolf and focus on the body. Her gaze fastened on the metal table holding the body of Gina Torres.

  “I need a moment alone with the body.” Her words were soft with a mild wobble to them.

  Maybe he was examining everything she did with too much interest. She stared at the sheet-covered lump, waiting for them to do as she requested.

  “I’m going to get some details from the front desk on her address. If we’re here it must mean she lived nearby. From what Deputy Owens stated only people who live in this area would have been brought here. There’s a bigger precinct with a large morgue one town over. Maybe she and Lisa Summers knew each other.” Ramirez said and walked out.

  “I’m coming too.” Trent added. He headed for the door and shut it behind Ramirez. It didn’t matter that he never walked out because Erica was still focused solely on the table. He folded his arms in front of his chest and stood quietly, watching her. The scent of the bleached corpse was nothing compared to the panic drifting from Erica. His wolf wanted out. He wanted to push her behind him and protect her, but from what?

  She dragged her palms over the sides of her Bermuda shorts. His breath froze. Something big was coming, but he didn’t know what. She raised a shaky hand toward the sheet, stopped mid-way, and cursed.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Erica. Hazlo. You can do this.” She said, softly.

  Instinct told him to go to her. He tugged the leash on his animal and kept control. The wolf wanted near her. He waited, wondering what she planned to do next. He observed while she took deep breaths, her fear diminishing slowly. Finally, she straightened her spine and pulled the sheet back. Her arm shook before the sheet was fully off the body. He took a step, stopped, and waited to see what her next move would be. Her hand shook so badly he had a hard time not rushing to her, holding her, and easing her stress. She quickly reached out and grabbed the dead girl’s arms. She froze in place.

  A soft, pain-filled scream filled the room. It took him a second to realize it came from Erica. Propelled into action, he was next to her in the blink of an eye. In the time it took him to reach her, she had started to shake like a leaf and tears began to rush down her face. Unsure of what to do, he did the only thing he could think of and pulled her away from the body.

  Once she let go of the Gina’s arm, her body slumped toward the ground. Had he not been holding her already, she would have knocked her head on the floor. He picked her up and headed toward a wooden chair tucked in a corner. Shoving papers off the chair, he sat down and held her tightly in his arms. Her features took on a sickly color, and her already-pale complexion had a waxy grey tone. She really did look like shit. What he didn’t know was why.

  He rocked her in his arms and called her name softly, but she didn’t respond. After a few minutes she blinked her eyes open.

  “What are you doing, Trent?”

  “Darlin’, if you want to get into my arms, you don’t need to keep fainting to do it. You can ask me to hold you whenever the mood strikes without going to these lengths.”

  He joked to lighten the mood, but it was starting to stress him out that she kept passing out at the sight of a dead body.

  She sat up and got off his lap, without saying a word or looking back at the body, and marched to the front of the building. They passed Ramirez, who she ignored. Trent shook his head at Ramirez’s questioning frown. Outside she opened the Jeep, grabbed her phone, and dialed.

  “Yes, it’s Villa. Gina Torres was murdered in the woods. Not far from here, but I can’t say where for sure. It was nighttime, so it was hard to make things out, but I got the distinct impression he wore a hoodie so she couldn’t see his face. He’s big, strong, and tall. He beat, overpowered, and strangled her. And he enjoyed every minute of it. I caught the outline of his smile under the hood. She’s got more wounds then Lisa. His cockiness grew since we haven’t found him.” Her voice shook with each word. Almost as if she’d been there.

  How did she know all that? Usually Brock disseminated only the helpful information to the case, never giving them the full report on what Erica’s profiling was all about. He listened intently as she continued to describe the scene for Brock. Brock only asked case-related questions, but for the most part let Erica speak.

  “He really enjoyed cutting her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he added some post-mortem wounds to this one. It was so weird to hear him break out in laughter spontaneously. He seems to get a kick out of hearing them scream when he hurts them... I don’t know how, but I get the feeling he knew both women. We have to find the link.”

  Trent listened while she spoke. She was back to the other side of her personality, her no-nonsense persona that everyone in the team had gotten to know and rely on. Gone was her cheeky wit, replaced by the profiler who got the job done and gave their team the edge when they needed extra help to solve a case. But he knew that the other, more vulnerable, Erica was one step away from full-blown panic. His mate needed him, and he didn’t know how to help.

  She handed him the phone and strolled off to the edge of the road, staring at the trees across the street.

  He jerked the phone to his ear. “Brock? What the fuck is going on?”

  “Buchanan watch your mouth.” Brock ordered in a steely voice.

  “No, you listen to me.” He growled. Screw asking nicely. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. “I’ve watched her beg for help and sob as if something is hurting her two days in a row without an explanation. I won’t even go into the passing out or how pale she looks. What I want to know is what is going on, and how do I keep it from getting worse?” A sick, jagged sting knifed at his stomach. Was Erica suffering from some kind of illness? “Is she…is she sick?” The knot in his throat turned his question into a low rasp.

  He could hear Brock exhale slowly on the other end of the line, as if trying to find the right words.

  “No, she’s not sick or dying. All I can tell you is she’ll be fine. She just needs some sleep. Trust me. Take her back to the hotel, and make sure she rests.” Brock sighed, his voice softening he added, “Please…make sure she gets some rest. She needs it.”

  Trent shut the phone and glanced at Erica. She had gone back to clenching and unclenching her fists. He finally realized she did that as a way to calm her nerves.

  When Ramirez came out of the station he walked up to Trent. “So what’s really going on here?”

  “I don’t know, but Brock says she’s fine and she just needs some rest. I think she might be sick, but he wouldn’t say. We’re going back to the hotel.”

  Ramirez nodded. “All right, I’ll drop you off and check out Lisa Summers’s apartment again, make sure we didn’t miss anything there. Then I’ll stop by to see where Gina Torres lived. She didn’t live near Lisa, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t know each other. Who knows, I may find something that breaks this whole thing wide open.”

  Trent prayed that would be soon, because if Erica got any worse, he didn’t think she’d be able to handle it. He was going to mak
e it his mission to get her to relax without sex. His cock was in disagreement, as was his wolf, but he was going to be a good mate and help her sleep even if it killed him. When they reached the hotel he followed Erica into her room. She lifted her brows high in question.

  He shrugged. “Brock told me to make sure you get some sleep.”

  “I’m too tense to go to sleep.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m here to help with that.”

  The flare of interest in her eyes made his decision to keep things platonic for the night an exercise in self-endurance.

  “What did you have in mind?” She licked her lips.

  Shit. Fuck. Shit.

  She needed to sleep, and his body was strung up tighter than a rubber band. “I’m going to give you a massage, and then you’re going to sleep.”

  Yeah, that sounded even worse when he said it out loud. He was going to touch her body, her soft, curvy body, and then let her sleep? How the hell he would accomplish that feat he had no clue. But he would do it…for her. And he’d keep his wolf from pushing him to claim her already. He didn’t know why it was so important, but getting Erica back to her usual sarcastic self was his ultimate goal. It didn’t matter that she would tear him a new one with her cheeky wit; he loved that about her.

  “Normally I would argue with you, but a massage sounds so good right now I can’t even say no.” She picked up a tank top and pair of cotton short from her open case. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to take a shower.”

  She sauntered off to the restroom, her sexy hips swinging with each step, and shut the door.

  Trent glanced down at his aching cock. It was begging for relief. Yeah, good luck with that. He grabbed his dick through the soft cotton material of his pants and shifted it into a less painful position. After a few moments of standing there like an idiot and listening to the shower going, he sat down on the bed. And immediately jumped back to his feet.

  It probably wasn’t a good idea to wait for her on the bed. No, thinking of Erica and a bed in the same sentence made it hard to remember his objective. What the fuck was his objective? Oh yeah, just a massage. Instead, the cushioned chair next to the bed called his attention. He decided that was a better place to sit…and visualize her washing every smooth curve, water sliding down her breasts, her thighs, and between her legs. Holy fuck. He was going to end up with a severe case of blue balls.

  Minutes later the bathroom door opened, and Erica stepped out, her hair in a bun on the top of her head. She wore a tiny tank top and short set. His cock jerked in his pants, reminding him how much he wanted to get a taste of her. The shower had brought back some of her normal flush, leaving her with lovely glowing skin. His mate was gorgeous. She smiled and brought out a bottle of oil.

  “I use this oil to help me sleep,” she said, handing him the bottle.

  He looked down at the container in his hands, lavender. Not that he’d ever admit it to her, but he loved lavender. The scent turned him on. It was one of the few that didn’t bother his sensitive sense of smell. “This is good.”

  She lay down on the bed. Once she was on her stomach, she looped the strings on the tank top down her arms, baring her back and shoulders. He stared at the shoulder he wanted to bite so badly and finally claim her as his. Biting her, marking her, and making her his mate was such a big temptation he had to grind his teeth and haul his wolf back. The animal pushed on his skin, desperate to get out and take Erica for his mate once and for all. He gulped. He glanced over her body, up her legs and took a detour to stare at her ass. A few heartbeats later he met her gaze. She had a flirty grin on her lips.

  “I’m ready.”

  Shit.

  She lowered her head to the mattress and sighed.

  Taking a deep breath he walked up to the bed and stared at her flawless skin. He opened the bottle and dropped some oil into his palm. The soothing scent of lavender immediately filled the room. He rubbed his palms together until the oil heated and then splayed his hands over her shoulders. Working the oil into her flesh with smooth strokes and circular motions, he squeezed, molded, and pressed into her muscles. He started to feel somewhat confident in his ability to handle the entire massage without dying of a never-ending hard-on, until she started moaning. At first it was a small hitch in her breath, but then it turned into full-blown moans. And she wasn’t quiet.

  “Mmm. That feels so good,” she whimpered.

  Imagining her saying the same thing while he slid in and out of her body had him gripping her skin a little rougher than he intended. She groaned, and his erection throbbed. Every time she sighed or moaned his cock swelled some more in his pants. Every breathy groan out of her lips pushed him to continue imparting all the pleasure he could. Her moans torturing his mind and body weren’t much fun, but who cared? Screw sanity, he wanted her to continue sighing in bliss.

  “Trent.” She whispered his name so low he almost didn’t hear her over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

  He stopped. Before he had a chance to do anything, she flipped on to her back. Her tank top hung precariously over her breasts, looking like it would reveal them at any moment. Goddamn.

  “Sweetheart...”

  He tried to keep his voice calm, but damn. She looked like a fantasy come to life. Her eyes were dark pools of passion. Her pink tongue flicked out and lavished her plump lower lip with a slow lick. The scent of her arousal was intense, and he knew she was wet and ready just for him. She gave him a smoldering look, filled with need and so much desire, sweat trickled down his spine.

  “I want you.” She lifted her arms, and her hands went straight for his hair, gripping the short strands and pulling him down.

  The floor could open up and the bowels of hell appear on earth, and he wouldn’t care or be able to stop from tasting her lips again. Hunger for her made him turn rough. Her open lips gave him an easy entry into her sweet depths. His tongue plundered, tasted, dominated, and possessed her. Too much had been worked up between them, and he was beyond thinking. It was time to feel. She pulled him down closer, until his body draped over hers. His cock ended up nestled between the warmth of her open legs.

  Passion exploded inside him. The kiss turned wilder, desperate and consuming. He should stop. He should stop right now. Her whimpers grew, and he envisioned ripping off the tank top. He trailed his hands up her sides and grabbed her hands, stopping her fingers from twining with his hair. In one of the toughest battles against his instinct to be with Erica, he pulled away from her. It was hell, but he didn’t want to be a booty call. He’d wanted Erica for a long time and would not settle for some quick tumble as a means to relieve stress. No matter what she believed, he had feelings, and most of them were telling him this was not the right time. Erica was more than a quick lay. She was his mate.

  “Erica, you’re tired.”

  She moaned and kissed his jaw, ignoring his words. Her tongue flicked over his neck, and he almost forgot why they shouldn’t continue.

  “Please… I need you.” She whimpered into his neck.

  His cock wanted to kill him for what he was about to do. He lifted off her body and watched her open her unfocused eyes. “You need sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He lowered his face to level with hers, placed a soft kiss on her furrowed brow, and walked out.

  He knew she was confused. He’d rather face her anger at this dissatisfaction now than face her anger for having taken advantage of her later. That wasn’t the way he wanted to start his relationship with his mate.

  “So, you look like you got shit rest, Sleeping Beauty.” Ramirez said from the driver’s side when Erica slid into the backseat of the SUV. “What the heck do you do at night? If you tell me you’ve been sneaking out of your room to go clubbing I’m going to be so jealous.”

  She growled and placed her sunglasses over her tired eyes, effectively shutting both men out. She was a fool. Trent had been coming on to her for years, and when she finally decided to give in to his playboy ways he
walked out! What the hell was wrong with him? He was the biggest player she’d ever met, and he had turned her down.

  “Leave her alone, Ramirez. Let’s see Gina Torres’s apartment,” Trent snarled. The vindictive part of her was quite smug over how tired he looked. Good. It made her feel a little better to know she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept well.

  “Brock and Donovan will be heading this way tomorrow.” “It seems the two victims may have had someone in common. An ex-boyfriend.”

  Erica stared blindly out her window and thought of both victims. Thankfully, their screams hadn’t kept her awake. Her own sexual frustration had her staring at the ceiling fan all night. She’d been torn between knocking on Trent’s door and demanding he fulfill her sexual needs or just hitting him for leaving her in that sad state. She sighed.

  Trent had the charm of any man raised as the youngest with four older sisters. He always talked about how they doted on him. He developed a charm that never failed to get him into whatever panties he wanted. Women were drawn to him. He made each one feel like the most important woman alive. He could make the sourest woman smile. That was the reason Erica had worked so hard to keep an emotional distance from him. Although that part hadn’t been too difficult, the sexual interest drove her crazy most of the time.

  “Did Brock mention if the ex is a suspect yet?” Trent asked.

  “No,” Ramirez replied. “He said that he wants us to view Gina’s apartment, see what we find. Maybe something definite connecting the ex with both victims, but other than that he said there’s no news. He also said Donovan is looking into the victims’ cell, email, and social networking records. Apparently they were both heavy into Facebook, Twitter, and Badoo.”

  “What about online dating?” Trent’s question caught her off guard.

  Erica jerked her head toward the front and looked at Ramirez. For some reason she hadn’t thought of the murderer as someone from the online dating world, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be. The truth was she wasn’t all seeing, and the more possibilities they took off the table, the easier it became for her to narrow it down.