by Jaci Burton
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Legend’s Passion
ISBN 9781419922770
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Legend’s Passion Copyright © 2008, 2009 Jaci Burton
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book Publication May 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
LEGEND’S PASSION
Jaci Burton
Chapter One
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.
“Y
ou 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.”
Dylan’s knees damn near buckled as the raven-haired seductress held out her wet fingers in front of him. Her scent traveled on the breeze, intoxicating his senses. Like a drug had been shot into him, he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move, but dying to grab her hand and suck her soaked finger into his mouth.
What the fuck was going on here? He felt dizzy, disoriented. Something wasn’t right. Whatever she was offering, he wanted it. And it wasn’t the information he sought, but he didn’t give a shit about the informant anymore. This stranger had bewitched him, put him under some kind of spell. He couldn’t even remember why he was here. His cock twitched, lengthening, hardening, his balls drawing up with a throbbing ache of desperate need.
He didn’t know her.
He wanted to fuck her. No, that wasn’t right. He needed to fuck her.
Up against the tree.
Right now.
He grabbed her wrist. Hard. She gasped, but her green-eyed gaze lit up and sparkled. She smiled when he took her finger and licked it.
Goddamn, she tasted good. He covered his lips over her finger and sucked. Every last drop of her honeyed cream. And he wanted more.
“Shit,” she whispered. “More.”
He pulled her finger out of his mouth. “Yeah, baby. More.” He pushed her against the tree and dropped to his knees, grasping her ankles. Her skin was utter silk, trembling under his fingers as he wove a trail with his hands up her calves, her thighs, sliding under her sexy, tight little skirt, pushing it up with his hands until he revealed little white lace panties.
“Sexy little things,” he said, leaning in to breathe the scent of her cunt. The more he inhaled, the more fogged his brain became. And the harder his cock got. He looked up at her. She was watching him, her lips parted, her breathing ragged as he dragged her panties over her hips and down her legs.
Her pussy was so pretty, a little thatch of raven hair just at the top of her sex. The rest of her was bare. He reached out to smooth his fingers over the swollen lips, bringing away more of her sweet honey. He licked it from his fingers like candy.
“Eat me,” she begged, spreading her legs wider. “Please lick my pussy.”
With a growl he reached up and grabbed her ass, digging his fingers into her soft flesh as he pulled her cunt toward his face and buried his tongue in her sex.
“Ohhh God,” she cried, tangling her fingers in his hair and thrusting her hips forward to undulate against his questing tongue.
He sucked her clit, ravenous for the taste of her. Damn, he couldn’t get enough, swallowing her cream, licking her up and dipping his tongue into her pussy. Her little moans only made him want more, made him want to take her over the edge. He wanted her to come in his mouth, wanted to possess her completely. He wanted her screaming and writhing against him, to give her a climax like no man had ever given her.
He didn’t know why he wanted it like that, he just did.
Relentless, he assaulted her clit, swirling his tongue over the distended pearl until she was shrieking, pulling at his hair. She came apart then, flooding his tongue with her cream. He drank every bit of her juice and continued to lick her until her legs were trembling uncontrollably.
Then he rose and covered her mouth, needing the taste of her lips.
She devoured him like a hungry animal, wrapping her leg around his waist to hold him in place.
As if he had any intention of leaving. Not until he’d filled her with his cock, his cum.
Not until he made her his.
Chantal was quivering. Every damn part of her body. She didn’t know who this man was, but she wanted him. All of him. Inside her.
God, he had a talented mouth. No man had ever made her come like that. Shrieking like a goddamn banshee. Her clit still tremored with the aftereffects of her climax.
And the way he kissed her, it was as if he’d possessed her, his tongue mastering hers with velvety strokes that made her belly tighten. She was past the point of clear reason. Chantal Devlin, who never lost control with a man, who was always so clearheaded, even with sex, had totally and completely gone over the edge with this guy.
And she still didn’t even know his name.
She tore her mouth from his, the mating call reaching desperate proportions now.
She searched his face, lost in the depth of his steely blue eyes. “I’m Chantal. Tell me your name.”
“Dylan.”
She palmed his chest. Steely hard, just like his abs as she trailed her fingers down to his crotch. She popped the jeans button, then drew the zipper down, shuddering as her knuckles brushed his hard-on. It was thick, long—she couldn’t resist dipping her hand inside his jeans to encircle his flesh.
“Christ,” he said on a harsh breath, surging against her hand. His breath was hot against her cheek.
With each stroke she felt his pulse pounding in his cock, felt her own blood rampantly racing throughout her veins. The need to shift, to run wild, was strong. The need to tear into this man was even stronger. The animal within her was dying to break free.
She leaned her head back to gaze into the dark intensity of his eyes.
“Fuck me, Dylan.”
His nostrils flared, his gaze narrowing as he palmed the tree trunk next to her head with one hand, jerking his cock out with the other. She stared down at it, thick and pulsing in his hand, and licked her lips, swallowing past the dry lump in her throat.
She’d never wanted a fuck so desperately before.
“You want it here? Against the tree? My cock ramming into your hot cunt?”
“Yes!” His voice made her insane. “Fuck me now, dammit!”
He lifted her with one hand and she wrapped her legs around his waist while he placed his cock at the entrance to her pussy. She surged against him, engulfing his shaft between her pussy lips, gripping him like a vise as she slid all the way down until he was buried deep.
She could come right now, the contractions were so strong inside her. But she wanted to wait, to enjoy every blissful moment of this mating frenzy. He lifted her higher, then slammed her against the trunk of the tree.
Oh, it hurt. So damn good she cried out, then growled, letting the animal within her partially loose. He wanted it hard, she’d give everything he gave. She unleashed her claws, raking them down his back, lifting his shirt to draw her nails along his skin. He grunted, thrusting his cock deeper.
“Fuck, baby” was all he said in reply.
She snarled in protest when he didn’t drive hard enough, no longer conscious of the human side of her. She couldn’t speak, could only give him nonverbal signals to slam into her, to give her every stroke. Deeper, harder, to make it hurt. She needed this, wanted the fury, the passion, everything he had and then some.
When she felt it spiraling inside her, she let her canines burst forth and buried her face in his neck, clamping down on the flesh between his neck and shoulder as the first wave of her climax sent her careening into oblivion.
He shuddered and groaned, spurting his hot cum inside her as he, too, rode an orgasm that sent her crashing again. His fingers dug into her buttocks as he slammed her forward into the tree, then sank to the ground.
Shaking all over, Chantal was exhilarated. What an orgasm! Or orgasms, to be precise. Sh
e released her hold on his skin and let the human side of her regain control, resuming her normal breathing patterns.
She stroked his hair, kissed his sweat-soaked neck then pushed against him.
Dead weight.
“Hey.”
No response. She frowned.
“Dylan?”
Again. Nothing. He lay slumped against her. She pushed again, and he fell to the ground.
Oh shit. Something wasn’t right. She smoothed her skirt down over her hips and bent over him.
He was pale, blood pouring from the wound in his skin where she’d bitten him.
A cold chill passed over her.
Uh-oh. This couldn’t be. Stepping over him, she lifted his shirt, wincing at the bloody claw marks on his back.
If he was a werewolf, the bite and claw marks would have healed over immediately.
This guy wasn’t a werewolf.
“Oh, crap.”
She’d just made a huge error. No, a catastrophical mistake.
She’d just fucked a human.
She sank to the ground as the realization hit.
It was even worse than that.
She’d just bitten a human.
Okay. Don’t panic.
She really wanted to panic. She rose and ran to her car, grabbing her purse, then headed back to Dylan, not wanting to leave him alone. She dialed her pack leader and gave him her location.
He was going to be so pissed. But she couldn’t leave Dylan out here alone.
The second call she made was even more important. Family was needed during a crisis and she really needed family right now.
“What?”
Even though the one word was curt and irritated, she melted in relief at the sound of her brother’s voice. “Noah. I need you out here right now. I have just screwed up so fucking bad and I need your help.”
“I’m on a plane in an hour.”
She clicked off the phone, closed her eyes and batted back tears. He didn’t even ask what she’d done. God, she loved her family.