LustUndone (6 page)

“Look at me.” The words were a guttural demand. “Open your
eyes, Sophia, and look at me. Now.”

She did and saw such animal need in his that it pushed her
over the edge. She was catapulted into black velvet space, spinning and
whirling, shuddering, her entire body pulsing with an orgasm that consumed
every bit of her. Clint stiffened a second later, a harsh groan rolling from
his mouth as his cock throbbed inside the wet clasp of her pussy. There was
nothing except this man and this incredible moment of a release that scorched
her from the inside out.

It could have been a minute or an hour, Sophia had no
concept of time, before her body finally began to unclench and ease. Her heart
pounded furiously and her lungs begged for air. Clint wasn’t in much better
shape. He collapsed forward, balancing on his arms, breath seesawing raggedly,
pulse beating at the hollow of his throat.

“Damn.” The word slid from his mouth. “Not even my imagination
could have dreamed up something that powerful.”

Taking another moment to catch his breath, he slid from her
body and went to dispose of the condom. Then he was back, sliding into bed
beside her.

“I have to be at a meeting at eight in the morning,” she managed
to get out as one large warm hand closed over a breast.

“Then I’d better make sure you get at least a little sleep.”

She could hear the grin in his smoky voice before he lowered
his head to her nipple again. This time he did more than pass over it. He
sucked, pulled, grazed lightly with his teeth, tormented it until it was
diamond hard. Then he moved to the other one. And all the while his fingers,
danced over the softness of her public curls, stroking her swollen labia,
sliding into the wet clasp of her greedy cunt. His mouth, his fingers, were
magic, setting fire to every inch of her body. It astounded her that after such
a violent release she could be aroused again so easily.

His movements were slow, unhurried, coaxing every bit of
pleasure from her. She heard moans drifting on the air and realized they were
coming from her. Clint was busy everywhere with his hands and his mouth,
rousing her, then calming her, then driving her up again until she wasn’t even
sure she remembered her own name. His thumb was a pendulum stroking over her
clit until she could barely stand the sensations rocketing through her body,
his mouth hot and greedy everywhere on her skin.

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 only 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.