More Bark Than Bite

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More Bark Than Bite Page 6

by Melissa Hosack


  What Graham was doing wasn't about sex. He was being so gentle, so affectionate to show her how much he cared about her. With each slow thrust it was like a new declaration of love. He didn't need to say it. He told her with his body.

  Though Graham's rhythm was slow, Morgan felt the pleasant sensation of orgasm looming before her. She was practically crying again as it approached. This was the most amazing moment of her life. No one in the world compared to Graham and how special he made her feel.

  Her orgasm started on a slow wave, building in intensity with each thrust of Graham's hips. It felt like it went on forever because he withdrew just before each wave of pleasure receded, sending her into the next with his return. Graham left her muscles grasping desperately for him, clamping down on his manhood until she was drawing ragged grunts from deep in his throat.

  After an eternity of ecstasy, Graham gripped her hips tightly and rode out his orgasm, his fingers digging into her flesh as every nerve in his body screamed in delight.

  "I love you,” Morgan whispered against his lips as he filled her with not just his seed, but also his heart. Her body trembled, quivering around his as they both found fulfillment in each other's arms. She lay shaking in his embrace as everything she had once found important suddenly took a backseat to her emotions for Graham. She began crying silent tears of joy over the way he made her feel. Happy little laughs of disbelief were mingled in with the tears, and she could only imagine how odd the combination must seem.

  Graham pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I hope those are happy tears."

  Morgan nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.

  Sliding off of Morgan, Graham leaned on his side next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist. “Good,” he murmured tiredly.

  The rugged, drowsy tone of his voice made Morgan smile in affection. “Very good,” she agreed, snuggling into his chest. A moment later, they were both asleep.

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  Chapter 7

  Morgan pulled up to Graham's house full of righteous indignation. Giving a growl of aggravation, she smacked her palm against the steering wheel.

  After her exclusive information about the FBI specialist, she expected some sort of reward. Had she even gotten a good job from Jamison? No! He'd just demanded that she try and get more from Graham.

  Alston had disagreed once she told him how graciously Graham had forgiven her for the first incident. He'd said Graham sounded like a nice guy, that he might even be a keeper.

  In telling Alston about how wonderful Graham was, she'd left out the part that her new lover was a freaking werewolf. She still barely believed it herself. Werewolf or not, she would not be betraying Graham again. It was as simple as that.

  Getting out of her car, Morgan stomped up to Graham's front door and lifted her hand to knock. Before her hand even connected with the door, it swung open. She blinked in surprise for a moment at the sudden movement.

  Graham stood in the doorway with a sheepish grin on his face. Running a hand through his short hair, he said, “I heard your car turn onto my road."

  "Okay,” Morgan said slowly with a little grimace. “I see you're not playing human for me anymore."

  Graham leaned against the doorframe, a boyish grin on his lips. “I didn't think I had to."

  The smile won her over. Who cares if your boyfriend howls at the moon when he's got a set of pearly whites like that? “No, you don't have to play human,” she assured him with a smile of her own. “This way, if I ever need to rearrange my furniture, I can have you move all of it around without feeling guilty. With those supernatural skills of yours I know you won't even work up a sweat,” she teased.

  "Hey now,” Graham protested, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her to his chest. “That's werewolf abuse."

  "You're absolutely right,” Morgan whispered, leaning close so she could brush her lips against his. “That was terribly rude of me. I forgot to mention that I would reward you with a treat once you were finished."

  Graham's eyes narrowed in mock anger. “If I thought it was going to be a sexual treat, I would be ecstatic, but I have a suspicion that you're making a dog joke."

  Morgan giggled, pressing her body suggestively against his. “I would never do such a thing,” she teased. To keep him distracted, she leaned up and nibbled impishly at his earlobe before returning to his mouth to leave a playful kiss.

  "You are lucky that you're such a good kisser,” Graham stated, his hands running along the curve of her hips. “Otherwise, I might have had to punish you for such a comment."

  "It's a good thing you're easily sidetracked then,” Morgan said as she slid her lips along his jaw, continuing until she found his mouth. She kissed him with a passion that made her dizzy, reveling at the feel of his big, strong hands on her back. She'd never felt safer with anyone before in her life. She melted against him, giving a soft sight of contentment as he trailed his fingers through her thick, black hair. Graham's touch was so comforting that all of her problems just melted away ... which was why she needed to ask a few questions.

  Placing a hand to his chest, Morgan reluctantly pulled her lips away from his. She took a step back, putting a little distance between them so he wouldn't be able to distract her with his kisses. “I need to know about what you are,” she said cautiously, staring up into his eyes.

  Graham's eyes shaded to that dangerous gray color and he watched her for a moment in silence. It seemed to take a lot of effort, but the tension eased out of his shoulders and his eyes slowly bled back to blue. “What do you want to know?” he asked gruffly. Turning his back on her, he took his time shutting the door. He stayed facing away from her for a moment, his shoulders tense.

  Morgan could see that he had a death grip on the doorknob, his hands white from strain. It didn't take a genius to realize he wasn't happy with the topic. “If you don't want to talk about it...” Morgan said nervously.

  Turning to face her, Graham's features softened and he took her hand gently between his. “It's not that I don't want to discuss this with you,” he assured. “It's just that it's been instilled in my head since I was young that I'm not to tell a human about what I am."

  He led her over to his couch and pulled her to sit next to him. “I'm sorry if I seem reluctant. It's hard to break old habits, especially when those habits are the ones that have kept me alive in the past. I do trust you, Morgan, and I understand that this can't be easy for you either. Whatever you want to know, I will tell you,” he said honestly.

  Morgan stared at his hands for a moment, torn between curiosity and the urge to leave him to his privacy. She hated to make him uncomfortable, but if he truly loved her like he claimed, he would be willing to open up to her. He couldn't expect her to live in the dark about what he was. She cared about him and wanted to know about something that affected his life so greatly.

  For a moment, Morgan watched his thumbs stroking gently along her palm, touched by the intimacy with which he caressed her. That filled her with the confidence she needed to ask him such personal questions. She lifted her eyes from his hands to his captivating eyes. “You said when you were young you were taught to keep this a secret,” she said softly, “so that means you've been like this awhile?"

  Graham hesitated, but he seemed to see something in her eyes that set him at ease, because his face filled with an expression of conviction. He was ready to let her into his life. “I was born this way. I inherited it from my mother."

  "You can inherit werewolf-ism?” Morgan asked in surprise, throwing out a name she thought sounded good to describe his ability to change form.

  Graham gave a low, masculine laugh at the look on her face and her play on words. “Yes. It can be inherited just like anything else, just like eye or hair color."

  "So you're saying that if you and I ever...” She trailed off in embarrassment. It was still a bit early to be worrying about such things.

  Graham's face lit up at her question. He found it n
ice that she was trying to understand him better. She'd also asked things that pertained to their future together. She wasn't asking these questions to find out how big of a freak show he was. “Yes. Our children could inherit it from me.” He sent her a teasing grin. “Thinking about bearing my child already?"

  Morgan sent him a dirty look and chose not to answer his question. Instead, she asked, “Is everyone born with it? I thought the urban legend was that if you got bit by a werewolf, you became one.” At that thought, her hand shot to her neck and her eyes widened in alarm as she remembered that Graham had bit her the night they first slept together.

  "Relax, sweetheart. You're fine. You won't be turning furry anytime soon,"

  Graham assured, leaning back on the couch.

  Morgan let her breath out slowly, relaxing once she knew she wasn't going to be ripping out of her skin anytime soon. “It's not that I have a problem with what you are. I just ... it just didn't look like much fun to tear through your own skin."

  "I understand,” Graham said with a little smile. “You're just getting used to the fact that your boyfriend does it. You aren't ready to try it yourself. It's understandable.” He slung an arm casually around her shoulders as they talked, his whole demeanor now tranquil.

  The fact that he was loosening up proved to her that he trusted her with the information he was telling her, that his initial hesitation had been only habit.

  "You can become like one of us through a bite,” he continued, “but only if we're in wolf form. The love nibbles I give you are perfectly safe.” As if to prove this point, he lifted her hand to his mouth and gently nipped at her fingertips.

  Morgan smiled as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles then twined their fingers, lowering their hands to rest between them on the couch.

  Graham gave her a soft, affectionate smile before continuing. “The man who attacked us wasn't born like me. He was only recently bitten. I'd guess about a year or two ago."

  "How can you possibly know that?"

  "Did you see how much pain he was in when he shifted into wolf form?” On Morgan's nod, Graham continued, “The beginning hurts. It is agony until you learn how to do it properly. Most of us have an instructor to teach us how to do it without hurting ourselves, usually a parent. This guy...” He shook his head. “He changed when there wasn't a full moon, which is hard to do, but he was sloppy."

  A determined look crossed Graham's face. “I know I can catch him. I just hope it's before he kills someone else.” His expression became suddenly hopeful. “I saw his face, so we finally have something to work with. He was expecting me to be human, so he took the chance on approaching me. Because of that, I now know what he looks like. I sat down with our sketch artist this morning and we got a pretty good picture. I have the chief running this guy's profile as we speak. Hopefully by the end of the day we'll have a name and an address to go with the face. Then all I'll have to do is go get him."

  Scooting closer to him on the couch, Morgan leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. “You'll catch him. I know you will.” Sitting back, she gave him a thoughtful look. “Does the chief know about you, about what you can do?"

  Graham's face took on an expression that said he wasn't very happy about his boss knowing his secret. “Yeah. He does. Once I realized that I could trust him, I felt I owed it to him to be honest. He's kept my secret and I've kept his men safe.” He shrugged. “He knows he can send me into a dangerous situation first because it takes a lot to kill one of us. It's a good deal for both sides. I get hazard pay and he can keep his men from dying."

  It sounded like a dangerous job to Morgan, but it helped explain why they hadn't had a police officer die in the line of duty in over five years. If Graham thought it was worth the risk to his safety, who was she to argue?

  Graham slid his free arm around her shoulder. Leaning forward, he nuzzled his nose against her ear and whispered, “Any other questions?"

  Morgan feigned as if she was thinking while he nibbled on her earlobe. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I do have one more question. Now I know you have super strength, but what about stamina?” she asked wickedly.

  Graham gave a low growl. “I believe I've shown you just how much stamina I have, but if I must show you again..."

  "You must,” Morgan agreed, wrapping an arm around his neck.

  Graham's mouth had just descended upon hers for a heart-stopping kiss when the phone rang. With a snarl of aggravation, he pulled back and lifted the receiver from its cradle. “What?” he barked.

  After a moment, the angry lines in his forehead smoothed out and his expression became almost eager. “What? Where?” He grabbed a pen and a notepad off of the table the phone was resting on and began scribbling down an address. “I'm on my way there now,” he said as he hastily hung up.

  Turning to Morgan, he said, “We found him!” He jumped to his feet and began quickly sliding into his shoulder holster. “We got lucky. I sent that sketch to a few local werewolf families I know, and someone recognized our guy. A young girl remembered him. She said he tried to catch her a couple years ago when she was in wolf form. She said he seemed like he wanted to hurt her, like he was the type who likes to torture animals. He grabbed her by her neck and she panicked. She bit him to get away and ran. She was too spooked to even tell her folks about it until his picture popped up. She remembered that he was wearing a work uniform. She said she's almost certain the name Samuel was stitched into his shirt. We've got a definite match. His name is Samuel Porter. He lives less than ten minutes from here.” His expression turned to relief as he holstered his weapon. “We caught the son of a bitch."

  Morgan climbed to her feet, her face full of concern. “Do you have silver bullets in that gun?"

  Graham cringed. “You don't need silver. Silver isn't what kills us. It's what forces us to stay in animal form. Shape shifters react to heat and silver is a hot metal. When it hits the bloodstream, it keeps us locked into wolf form. We can't get back to our human selves until our systems flush out the silver. You could kill one of us with regular bullets just the same. The only reason to use silver is when you plan on killing whoever you're shooting at and you don't want to get caught with a body on your hands. I'm hoping not to have to kill someone today."

  At his statement, Morgan stared at him in horror. “People use silver so they can commit murder and get away with it?"

  Graham gave a shrug that he tried to make look casual, but she could see the fear in his eyes over the topic. “No one's going to get into much trouble for killing a wolf, are they?” His voice took on a tone of disgust. “It's a wonder we don't tell humans about us."

  "Graham, that's awful!” Morgan rushed forward and put her hands on his forearm. She suddenly had an urge to keep him from leaving. Fear gripped her heart at the thought of the horrible things that could be done to him without anyone ever finding out, at the thought that she could spend the rest of her life never knowing what happened if someone were to capture him in his wolf form. “Graham..."

  She went to beg him not to go, but quickly stopped herself. This man needed stopped. He'd murdered innocent people, people whose only crime had been in being human. It wasn't fair to ask Graham not to go after him. “Let me go with you,” she blurted out.

  Graham gave a derisive snort and removed her hands from his arm. “I don't think so."

  Morgan blinked at him for a moment in surprise. She hadn't expected such a harsh dismissal. “You can't go rushing in all by yourself,” she argued.

  Graham gave her a look that clearly said he was losing patience. “I'm a cop. It's my job to go in there."

  "Not without backup, it isn't,” Morgan disputed desperately.

  Graham spun on her with a look of aggravation. “Who would you like me to call, Morgan?! You want me to call my fellow police officers? The human police? Do you know what that man would do to the human police?” He shook his head angrily. “You know what he does to humans! He will kill them! Do you want to be the one to tell t
heir wives and children that their father was torn to shreds?"

  Tears of bitterness sprang to Morgan's eyes. “I don't want them telling me that about you!"

  Graham's eyes softened and he took her into his arms, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. “I'll be fine, Morgan. This guy is young and he's sloppy. He's not going to get the drop on me. You have nothing to worry about."

  "How can you be so sure?” she whispered fearfully. “This man is a killer."

  "I know because I've done this before. I promise you I'll be fine. If you were to go with me, I would be too concerned with your welfare to do my job properly. I need to know that you're safe."

  Morgan leaned into his chest, letting his body heat sink into her. “Just come home to me, okay?"

  Graham leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “I promise."

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  Chapter 8

  Morgan knew that she shouldn't have followed Graham, but she felt as though she'd had no choice. Letting him run into a dangerous situation by himself was not an option. At least if she saw what happened, she'd be able to call the chief of police and have him send help if Graham needed it.

  She'd parked a block from Samuel Porter's home and just sat watching the house as Graham climbed out of his cruiser and made his way up the walk. Her heart leapt into her throat at the mere sight of him. He was gorgeous ... and he was all hers too. Her happy thoughts trailed off as Samuel opened the door at Graham's persistent knocking.

  Samuel didn't even give Graham a chance to speak. As soon as the door was open, he lunged, taking Graham with him down the walk in a ball of tangled limbs.

  Morgan gave a cry of terror at seeing the love of her life go down under the other man. “Graham!” she cried out in horror. Her hand was on her door handle, but before she could get out of the car, Graham had managed to untangle himself and spring to his feet.

 

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