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Dylan Maxwell prowled Golden
Gate Park in San Francisco, waiting for his contact. Some woman with dark hair. Yeah, great description. That told
him a lot. Then again, at two in the morning, he didn’t expect
to find a lot of females wandering the depths of the park.
In fact, with the recent killings it was damned dangerous for
a woman to wander alone in one of these parks in the middle
of the night. He wondered if she was planning to bring someone
along to protect her. Zipping his jacket closed, he leaned against the thick tree
and tried to discern which direction the infernal wind was
coming from. He finally gave up, deciding it was swirling in
off the Bay and hitting from all sides. There was no hope of
getting warm. He was just going to be cold. It was freakin’ July, for the love of God. How could
it possibly be so cold in California in July? It was supposed
to be summer here. Home in Oklahoma he’d be sweltering,
the air conditioner cranked. Not that he got home that often
anymore. Working for the National Crime Agency kept him on
the road nearly all the time. He couldn’t remember the
last time he’d either had a vacation or been home. Damn good thing he liked to travel. And now he was loitering in a park, skulking behind a tree
like a pervert. He was really going to have to get better info
out of the NCA analysts. This was a big case. The murders were
grisly, all having occurred in parks in the middle of the night,
and the remains—well, what had been left of the bodies
anyway—hadn’t given them much information. And
they were similar to killings that occurred previously in other
West Coast states a couple years ago, which was why the NCA
had been called in. They’d been following this case for months, with very
few leads and really messy evidence. The crime scenes had been
grisly as hell; bodies completely torn apart. Animal attacks, they had thought at first. Bite marks and
hair had suggested a wild pack of wolves, but that made no
sense at all. Wolves would have been easily spotted and captured,
and so far animal control and wildlife authorities hadn’t
tracked a single wolf, much less a pack of them. Then again, nothing much about this case made sense. Because
saliva tests indicated human. Fucking weirdo cult no doubt. And now they’d received
an anonymous lead from a woman who said she had vital information
on the case. Which was probably a false lead, but just in case
it wasn’t, they had to follow up. This woman had way
too much detailed information about the case to be a fluke.
Maybe, just maybe, it would be the break they needed. So here he was. Waiting. And freezing his fucking ass off.
Maybe he’d get lucky and instead of the informant the
actual killer would decide to show up. He could solve this
case and go home for a little R and R. Where it was warm. Chantal Devlin closed her laptop and stretched, then stood,
looking out the window of her office at the gorgeous view of
San Francisco spread out before her. She wrinkled her nose, then yawned. God, she was bored. And tense. And frustrated. And horny.
And so ready for a little action. Buried at her desk for the
past three months, she was relieved to finally put the last
filing together on this case. Long, tedious and dull, dull,
dull. What she needed right now was action. A little run. And a lot of fucking. Pent-up anxiety and need sizzled through her nerve endings.
She hadn’t shifted and had some fun in far too long.
Work had kept her tied up and in human form for months now. She was ready to play. Her pack contact had set her up with
a guy for tonight. An out-of-towner from the South, because
she refused to fuck anyone within the pack. And of course she
would never, ever, fuck a human. The risk of accidentally turning
one was too great. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to
mate with another pack wolf and the pack liaison knew that,
so this guy coming in from out of town was perfect. No strings,
no requirements for relationship or mate choice. She was more
than ready for a romp in the park and a little anonymous sex
to ease the tension. By tomorrow morning she’d be back
to normal and in prime form to get back to work. No rest for the wicked, she thought with a chuckle. Or for
the non-wicked, because she sure as hell hadn’t been
wicked enough lately. She hustled down to the parking garage and drove the short
distance to Golden Gate Park. Her juices were already flowing
and she hadn’t even met the guy yet. She didn’t
know anything about him other than he was tall, built, with
blue eyes and a Southern drawl. Maia, the pack liaison, said
this guy was hot. And when Maia said a guy was hot, he was
hot. Good enough. Her nipples tightened, her breasts warming. How
long had it been since she’d had a good fuck? Too damn
long. She should know better than to go so long without sex.
Tonight was going to be rough. She hoped this guy had stamina
because she intended to screw his brains out. She pulled into the parking lot and climbed out, heading toward
the designated meeting area. The cool wind bit at her skin,
offering blessed relief to the heat boiling inside her. She’d
worn a stretchy casual skirt, a tank top and sandals to work
tonight since it was a Saturday, so stripping would be easy.
But first she had to find her partner. The breeze blew tendrils of hair free from the clip, but she
didn’t care. Her blood was boiling in anticipation. She
snaked her way through the path, then headed into a dense copse
of trees and bushes where she couldn’t be seen by security,
the thick area of the park where no one traveled. She spotted him huddled against a tree. Tall, broad-shouldered,
watching her approach. Her skin tingled with the need to shift.
But she wanted this in human form. At least at first. He was gorgeous. Thick, dark hair, stunning blue eyes, sharp
brows arched in a frown. “Took you long enough to get here,” he said in
a sexy Southern drawl that made her toes curl. “I was working. Trust me, I’ll make the wait
worth it.” “I hope so. So what have you got for me?” “A little impatient?” “I’ve been waiting awhile for this. I want it
now.” Oh, man, he was hot. Her nipples nearly broke through her
top, her pussy swelling. A trickle of moisture wet her panties. “You want it, take it.” She trailed her fingernails
between her breasts, enticing him, then circled around him
so she was pressed against the trunk of the tree. He moved with her like a predator, as if he was stalking her. “You’d
better show me what you’re offering. I’m not into
playing games.” Yes, he was. A game she was thoroughly enjoying. “Show you, huh? Sure, I’ll show you.” She
grasped the hem of her skirt and slipped her fingers upward,
sliding her fingers underneath the straps of her panties. She
gasped as she tucked one finger into her pussy, felt the cream
pouring onto it. So wet, her cunt quivered as she touched it.
She withdrew, scenting her own arousal as she held her finger
out for him. “It’s right here. Taste me.”
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