LustUndone Read online

  He shifted his lean frame to lie between her thighs, spread the lips of her pussy and lapped at her like a cat licking cream. His tongue swirled her clit before diving inside her wet channel then trailed up and down the length of her labia. His thumbs opened her wide, his eyes greedy as they stared at her pink flesh before he bent his head and drew his tongue the length of her slit. Then he plundered her, drinking her liquid, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin.

  She was a seething mass of sensation, heat chasing after cold through her veins and along her spine, and her blood racing. Need clawed inside her, demanding to be satisfied and still Clint worked her and worked her. She almost sobbed with relief when he moved and she heard the familiar crinkle of foil again. In an instant he rolled on the condom and plunged deep inside her.

  This time her body was more than ready for him, anticipating his size and the way he filled up every bit of her. His strokes were smooth and slow, even though when she opened her eyes to look at his face she saw the strain of control, the tension of the effort.

  “Now,” she urged. “Come now. I want to come right now.”

  “So impatient,” he rasped, his breath jerky, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. “I wish I had hours to eat and taste you, fuck you every way possible.” He thrust harder and faster now. “Next time, chere. That’s a promise.”

  His words barely registered as the orgasm slammed into her, shaking her with the violence of a storm. Clint was right with her, body jerking, muscles straining. She dug her heels into the mattress to lift herself higher to him, taking him as deep as she could. They shuddered through it together, like figures in a hurricane battered by fierce winds.

  When at last the shudders began to subside she let her legs go lax, her limbs more wilted than a wet handkerchief. When his breathing slowed Clint pulled himself from her tight clasp, disposed of the condom and sat down on the edge of the bed. His hand sensuously caressed her cheek, the length of her neck and the upper swell of her breasts.

  “I think I did some damage to your soft skin with my beard,” he apologized.

  “It’s okay.” She caressed the stubble on his cheek. “Makeup hides a ton of sins.”

  He leaned closer. “Was this a sin, Sophia? A good one or a bad one?”

  “Oh, definitely good.”

  He sat up and sighed. “Damn. I have to go, Sophia. I’d like nothing better than to crawl in next to you, pull you tight up against me and fall asleep with you in my arms.” His thumb rubbed her lower lip. “But I won’t compromise you in front of your partner. You’re here to do a job and I don’t want to get in the way.” He leaned down and kissed her. “But this isn’t the end, ma petite. Just the beginning.” He stood up and began to dress.

  Sophia forced her limp body to a sitting position and reached in the nightstand drawer for pen and paper. She scribbled something on the top sheet of the pad, tore it off and handed it to Clint.

  “You can call me,” she told him. “I mean, if…you want to.”

  His mouth curved in a slow grin. “Oh, I want, all right.” The grin disappeared. “But I don’t want to screw up whatever you’re doing.”

  “If I can’t talk I’ll tell you.” She paused. “Listen, Clint, I don’t usually…I mean…”

  Damn, Sophia. Too late to pull the shy virgin act.

  He bent over her until his mouth was barely an inch from hers. “It’s okay. I didn’t think so. I knew this was special the minute you walked into The Crown.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “I want to see where it goes. How about you?”

  She could only nod.

  “All right, then. I’ll call you tomorrow.” At the door he turned. “Lock up after me, hear? And if you come by The Crown tomorrow night I’ll fix you something special.”

  “To eat?” she teased.

  “That too,” he laughed.

  “Okay. I’ll let you know how my day goes.”

  He pulled her in for one last, scorching kiss before he opened the door. “Lock up, now.”

  She closed the door after him and put all the locks and bolts in place. She’d be sore tomorrow in places she hadn’t even remembered she had, and she didn’t give one damn.

  Crawling back under the covers, she closed her eyes and immediately saw Clint’s face with his amber-flecked eyes and his rugged planes.

  Oh, Sophia, what have you gotten yourself into?

  * * * * *

  The devil beast raced easily over the snowy landscape. The snowfall had finally stopped and a crescent moon hung in the sky. The air was crisp and cold, its favorite kind of night. Others preferred the warmth of the southern states but this creature thrived in a frigid north.

  The kill had been more than satisfactory. Sometimes with older people the blood had a stale taste, the body ripped too easily. But this one had been in prime condition and the kill had temporarily slaked the raging bloodlust.

  It had almost been too easy, the prey more isolated than usual, danger almost too absent. Part of the thrill was evading capture, hiding from hunters. And it was getting very good at doing just that. On the other hand, having the freedom to destroy in uninterrupted isolation was a violent thrill in and of itself.

  Today the beast had caught two raccoons, destroying them and feeding on them just to satisfy a lingering urge. Now it was ready to return to the snow cave it had made for itself and sleep.

  And tomorrow, it would begin the hunt for its next victim.

  * * * * *

  Clint Beaudine pulled his truck into the garage next to Frenchy’s cabin, climbed out and walked to the edge of the driveway. The snow had passed, for the moment, and stars glittered in the sky. The night air had a sharp coldness to it, a freshness that teased at his sensitive nostrils. By all rights he should be ready for bed, after a long day at The Crown and making hot, erotic love with Sophia Black. Instead he felt restless, energized, his blood singing.

  Frenchy would be long asleep by now, he was sure, but just the same he would check on the old man. He was getting around pretty good these days. Another couple of weeks and he’d be able to manage on his own. Then Clint had to make some decisions about his own life.

  He’d never be able to tell the old man how grateful he was since the day Frenchy had found him. He had no idea what his life might have been like if not for that. He might not even still be alive today. Plus, Frenchy had been able to keep Clint’s secret, and that counted for a lot.

  But he couldn’t hang around here forever, although Frenchy would never ask him to leave. Still, he had to make a place for himself somewhere in the world.

  And now there was Sophia, blindsiding him out of nowhere. Not a woman to walk away from. Not that he’d even want to. No, he wanted more of her. Much more.

  What would she think of his secret? Would she expose him? Reject him? Run away from him? He wished he had someone to ask about this, but as an orphan he had no one. And in all the years since Frenchy found him no one had come into his life who he could trust. Or who he recognized as a kindred soul.

  Damn.

  He’d wanted to ask more questions about Darrell Franklin. Whatever had killed him was no ordinary animal. He wondered if Sophia Black knew that. If she and her partner were aware they might be dealing with something very much out of the ordinary. Clint had seen a couple of the pictures when two of the CID detectives had been in having a drink and had a folder open at the bar.

  He didn’t think those detectives had any clue as to what they might be dealing with. But Clint had heard stories when he lived in the Louisiana bayou. Legends. Mysterious tales. At the moment he didn’t even want to take a guess as to what had killed the man but he knew—sensed—it wasn’t something anyone around here had seen before.

  For the moment he needed to brush all that from his mind. He needed to be out in the night, running in the chilled air. Tiptoeing through the house, he checked to make sure Frenchy was sound asleep. Then he stripped off his clothes, and stepped onto the back porch. The frigid air hit him at once but he o
nly felt the chill for a moment. Concentrating, he felt his bones shift and his skin stretch. In seconds, he was racing across the landscape, face lifted to the moon.

  He was deep in the woods and had just rounded a fallen tree when he suddenly braked to a stop, lifting his head and sniffing. The night wind had picked up the thread of a scent, carrying it to his nose.

  Wolf!

  But not the usual wolf scent. This one had another essence mixed in with it, not the usual spoor. If he didn’t know better he’d think… No. If there was another shifter around here he’d know about it. It wasn’t as if they were exactly plentiful. The pull was always there.

  Then what… But as quickly as it came it was gone. He looked around warily. Nothing. Not as far as he could see. Except white snow and black trees and bushes. Still, something had been there. And he knew he’d damn well better figure out what.

  * * * * *

  Logan, in wolf form, had stopped in a thicket of trees to rest. Running on a cold night like this infused him with energy. He knew how tough the days and nights ahead were going to be. Shifting and running always recharged his batteries. He was grateful Ric had found a motel that backed right up to the woods so he could slip out unnoticed.

  He’d been keeping a sharp eye out just in case the Chupacabra was out having a night stroll, too, but he’d only seen some deer and raccoons. He was also on the alert for other wildlife, knowing this was an area where a number of Maine black bears made their home. However, it was winter and he was sure they wouldn’t be out roaming the countryside.

  He was about to start back to the motel when he heard a faint sound in the distance. Swiveling his head, he was stunned to see another wolf, black, running through the trees, tail high. Sophia had told him there was a sparse population of gray wolves, which was good for him because he could blend in. But black? She hadn’t mentioned that.

  What the hell?

  He watched, stock-still, for a long moment until the other animal disappeared. Then, still puzzled, he loped back toward the motel. He’d have to find a way to ask Sophia if she’d heard of any black wolves ever inhabiting the area. And try to find out where the creature had come from.

  Chapter Four

  Sophia let the hot water of the shower pound her body, easing aches in places she didn’t know she even had muscles or nerves. She felt a fulfillment totally foreign to her, a satisfaction she’d never felt before with any other man. Fire flashed over her as she remembered the hours with Clint last night. Her pussy throbbed with the memory of his wonderful, long, thick cock filling it. She could still feel the imprint of his calloused hands on her breasts, his mouth on her everywhere.

  He must have bewitched her in some way, she thought, because this was so very, very unlike her. All her life she’d been so careful in her relationships. Never rushing into anything. Taking her time. Getting to know the other person before accepting intimacy. Of course, look where that had gotten her. Still alone at thirty-five without a prospect in sight.

  Right now she figured that was probably for the best, though. Her entire focus had to be on finding and killing the Chupacabra. Avenging the deaths of her sweet, adorable nephews. Finally giving some peace to Damien and Shelley.

  But Clint Beaudine had smacked into her with all the subtlety of a freight train. She didn’t know if she’d ever recover from the force of the collision. What she did know was it was the first time in her life she’d ever had such wild monkey sex. And after barely five minutes of conversation.

  She also knew deep inside her it would take more willpower than she possessed to walk away from him. There was something at once both roughly masculine and innately tender about him. Such a contradiction of facets. Predatory and giving. Feral but controlled. Her reaction to him was like a visceral punch.

  No, there was no backing away from this. That was for damn sure.

  She stood there so long the water began to turn cold and she pulled herself together, quickly stepping out. By the time Logan rapped on her door she was dressed and ready. Hair clipped back at the nape to keep it out of her way. Woolen coat buttoned up. Feet encased in sturdy fleece-lined boots.

  “You look damn good after the long day we had yesterday,” he commented, holding the car door open for her. “Must have gotten a really good night’s sleep.”

  Was that a smile teasing at his mouth?

  She deliberately arranged her face in what she hoped was an expression of innocence. “Why yes, thank you. I slept like a log.”

  He turned his head to check for cars before turning out of the parking lot and said, almost too casually, “We planning to eat at The Crown again tonight?”

  Sophia went instantly still, a flush racing through her. Had he heard Clint knock the night before? Heard their…nocturnal activities? She was sure they’d been as quiet as possible. She’d even bitten her lip until it nearly bled to keep from shouting out each time she climaxed. Were the walls so thin it hadn’t mattered?

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Tsk. Touchy, touchy.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “Just remembering how good the food was and I like to stick with what I know.” The traffic cleared and he turned onto the highway. “Besides, the guy running the place probably wants to make a good impression on you, if the looks he kept giving you are any indication. And you can bet we didn’t get the free drinks because of me or Rebecca. If you recall, she commented at the time it was the first time she’d gotten a round on the house since Frenchy got hurt.”

  “Logan,” she began, her tone of voice edgy.

  But he smoothly changed the subject. “So I guess this morning we’ll finally get to take a look at the crime scene.”

  “Yes.” She blew out a breath. “Not that there’ll be much to see after all the snowfall.”

  “At least we’ll get a sense of the scene. Of the environment around it. Maybe how the beast got away so cleanly.”

  “Ha.” Her tone was derisive. “As if. You know we’ve never been able to do that.”

  “One can hope,” he said, his own voice edged with irony. “You said last night there are still a few gray wolves around here, right?”

  “Yes. One of the things on my to-do list is to talk to someone from Maine Fish and Wildlife about the current state of the population. See how many have been spotted recently.”

  She glanced over at him. “Why? Did you run last night? Catch sight of any?”

  “What about black wolves?”

  “Black?” She was startled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen any around here. I know their color is a variant of gray and that there’s a significant number in Canada.”

  “Think any might have migrated to northern Maine?”

  “Are you going to tell me what this is about or not?” she demanded.

  “Just…curious is all.”

  “You’re never just curious about anything. Logan, if you ran last night and saw something that might be pertinent to this case, spit it out. You know better than to hold back.” Then excitement flashed through her. “Do you think—”

  “No.” His voice was firm. “Not the Chupacabra. I caught a scent and it didn’t have even a trace of turpentine in it.”

  Every kill scene they’d visited had been tainted with that particular odor.

  “But,” he went on, “I’m pretty sure I saw a black wolf. Not dark gray. Black. And—this is going to sound very weird—but I sensed some kind of presence. Not exactly animal but not really human, either. I was deep in the woods and looked around and thought I caught a glimpse of…whatever it was. But then it was gone.” He pulled into the lane of a drive-through. “Sophia, you’ve never said but have you ever heard of any shifters around here?”

  Stunned, she stared at his profile. “Shapeshifters? I suppose it’s possible. And doesn’t that put an interesting spin on things.”

  They gave their orders to the mechanical voice and pulled ahead to take their place at the window.

  “I’m going to run again ton
ight,” he told her, handing over coffee and a breakfast sandwich. “See if he…she…it turns up again.”

  “I’ll make some discreet inquiries today. Let you know what I find out.” She sipped the hot coffee. “How interesting that there’s a possibility of shifters around here. And I wonder how that will impact on this case and the devil beast.”

  “We definitely need some answer.”

  Bobby and Rebecca were waiting in the conference room when they got to the barracks.

  “The others will be along any minute,” Bobby told them. “The coffee’s not the best but I promise it won’t poison you.”

  “Bobby, you worked on the case when Cary and Timmy Black were killed, right?”

  “Your nephews?” He nodded over the rim of his cup. “Nasty business, Soph. My heart went out to your whole family.”

  “Wouldn’t you have worked on them as well?” Logan asked.

  Sophia noticed he had deliberately taken the seat next to her sister, and Bec hadn’t moved away. She hoped Rebecca wasn’t setting herself up to be hurt. When this was over Logan would be returning to Desolation Ranch. It was the commitment he’d made. And Rebecca’s home was here, much more even than Sophia’s had been.

  “I…took a step back.” More than one step, she remembered. And not all of her choosing.

  Logan frowned. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “Sophia took the time to be with her family,” Bobby answered for her. “It was a very traumatic time for all of them.”

  Sophia smacked her hand on the table, causing the coffee cup to jump and the black liquid to splash onto the table. “That’s a load of horseshit. Doug Sevier was my sergeant at the time and he thought I’d popped my brain cells. He pushed me into taking what he called compassionate leave. It was either that or get fired or stuck in some loony bin.”

  “You have to admit,” Bobby went on in a calm voice, “your theory pushed the bounds of believability.”

  “Oh, and all of you had a better answer? I didn’t see you catching anyone.” She pushed away from the table and paced the room. “I want all the photos and crime scene details from those three cases, Bobby. They belong in the mix here.”