by Mac Flynn
A warmth swept through my body and tingled my quivering flesh. The heat pooled between my legs and I ground my teeth together to stifle a groan. "Whatever. . .whatever you're going to do to me. . .do it and. . .and get it over with," I panted.
He chuckled. "It's not going to be as unpleasant as that. I think you're enjoying it right now, or would be if you weren't fighting me."
"I'll. . .I'll fight you all the way," I insisted.
He closed the gap between us and his lips brushed against my cheek. One of his hands slid down and cupped one of my breasts. I shuddered as he massaged my mound of flesh, but I was aggravated by the clothing that got in the way of his skin against mine. His other hand unbuttoned my shirt and opened it to reveal my pert, swollen breasts.
His whispering voice sent shivers down my body. "See? You're enjoying it."
I leaned back my head and bit my lip. "What. . .what are you doing to me?" I gasped.
He planted soft kisses down my cheek and neck. "I'm finishing what we started in that alley."
My mind flew back to the few nights ago. He was one of the fighters, that person who murdered that other man and then bit me. I tried to struggle, to cry out to my fellow renters, but my voice wouldn't obey. My whole being was focused on what he was doing to my body, my mind, my soul, and it was liking what it was feeling.
He pressed his body against mine and I could feel his throbbing need in his pants. "Relax. You're too tense," he scolded me.
"I. . .I don't want this," I panted.
He chuckled. "I thought police were always supposed to tell the truth."
The man swept me into his arms and carried me into my bedroom. He set me on the covers and unbuttoned his shirt. I watched him like one mesmerized. My body was one fire with an unbearable heat. It consumed my thoughts and filled me with a passion that demanded to be quenched.
He tossed aside his shirt and lay atop half of me. His left hand slid up my pants leg and I felt the fabric slice open beneath his hand. My leg and half my underwear was bared to the dark room. His hand toyed with the plastic band a moment before his fingers slipped inside. I gasped and gripped the covers when I felt his fingers coast across my wet, hot folds. My heart beat like a quick drum and I panted.
One of his fingers slid between my folds and stroked my sensitive clit. I bit my lip, but pressed myself into his touch.
His voice was now more growl than human. The sound made me tremble in anticipation. "I want to hear you."
His words filled my being with such lust and longing that I let out a loud, deep moan. My body erupted into a fire of desire that could only be quenched by his voice, his touch, and his taking of me. I squirmed beneath him. The fires were too hot for me. I needed satisfaction.
"Please," I groaned.
He raised himself onto his arms and I saw lust in his own golden eyes. His voice was strained, tense. He desired me as much as I desired him. "Please what?"
"Please take me. Make me yours," I pleaded.
His grin widened and changed to something more feral, more animal, more seductive. In a flash he tore away his pants and what remained of my clothes. He spread his warm, strong naked body over mine. His pulsing manhood slid into my wet opening. He stretched and filled me with himself, and I'd never felt so complete. He stopped at half his length and shuddered.
"So. . .tight," he gasped.
"Oh god," I groaned.
He made slow love to me. Each penetration was a labor of love that slid smoothly against my clit. Shivers of delight raced through me. I gripped his back and reveled in the feel of our joined bodies, our lustful union that evoked such delicious results.
Our groans and grunts filled the air. The minutes flew by in a haze of sensual pleasure. Our sweat-soaked bodies slid against each other. Our muscles tightened, relaxed, and tightened again. Each stroke brought more fire, more lust, more desire. It was never quenched. These new feelings of lust was like a monster that lingered inside me. It ached for a release only he could provide.
"Yes. Oh god, yes," I moaned.
He grunted and thrust faster. The increased friction heightened the terrible, untamed ache inside me. We reverted to animals. Gone was the gentle lovemaking, and in its place was an insatiable desire to rut. Our pants and grunts grew louder and louder. I clung to him and dug my fingers into his back. My body quivered as hints of orgasm washed over it. Just a little more. So close.
I leaned back my head and arched my back into him. "Yes! Yes! YES!" I chanted.
My body exploded with pleasure. It swept away everything but the feel of him thrusting inside me, pushing me on to greater heights. My white-hot lust consumed me.
The exertion left me satisfied, but exhausted, mentally and physically. He finished inside me and held himself up on his arms to keep from crushing me. We panted together for a few moments before he grinned down at me and brushed aside a few of my wet locks of hair from my face.
"Beautiful," he purred.
"What. . .what was that?" I gasped. It was difficult to keep my eyes open.
"Feral lust. I've waited far too many days to take you." His shining eyes looked over my face as he brushed my cheek with the back of one of his hands. "It seems you've quite bewitched me. I've never had such lust for one of my own before."
"An. . .an aphrodisiac?" I murmured. My mind couldn't fight against the coming sleep my body so demanded.
He chuckled and slid off me. "Not quite, but rest. I have a feeling we'll be doing much the same for a great many nights."
I unwillingly closed my eyes and drifted into sleep.
CHAPTER 5
Daylight. That damn bright light in the sky. I pulled the covers over my head and tucked myself in for more sleep. The air was a little cold, so I wrapped my arms around my naked body.
Wait, naked body? I don't sleep in the nude. I opened my eyes and looked down at myself. The light through the thin sheets let me see that I was definitely naked. My eyes widened and I sat up. The sheets pooled into my lap as I looked wildly around me.
I was in my bed in my dingy apartment. The bed was a mess of tangled and tossed sheets, and the pillows were on the floor. My clothes lay in a pile beside the pillows. Bright, midday sunlight streamed through the grimy window that looked out on an alley.
I swung my legs out of bed and winced. My body felt like I'd shoved it through a meat grinder and molded it into loose burger patties. Every muscle was tense and sore. I stood and wobbled on my shaky legs. I stepped over to the pile of clothes and lifted my shirt. It hung loose in front of me and spun in a slow circle. The light from the window revealed all the tears and claw marks from last night.
I dropped my hand to my side and ran the other one through my clumpy hair.
"What the hell happened last night?" I muttered.
That wasn't to say I didn't remember it. I remembered everything completely, I just didn't believe it. Who would? I mean, I'd had sex with a stranger who climbed a four-story brick wall and broke into my apartment. Sure, he was handsome, but he was also a cold-blooded murderer. Hanging out with a guy like that was a big no-no for a police officer, but I wouldn't have minded another go with him.
"What?" I yelped out loud.
Had I really just wished for a trespassing murderer with the name of 'Shadow' to have sex with me? I shook my head. It had to be the two days I'd been out. I must've had my brains beaten more than the doctors noticed. Maybe I'd go back to that one doctor, that Lowell guy, and see what he thought about these strange urges. He seemed to know what he was doing, or at least he seemed to be good at pretending that he knew stuff.
I sighed and glanced at the clock on my nightstand. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open.
"Shit!"
It was one o'clock in the afternoon. My usual shift started at nine. I jumped out of bed and slipped into my uniform. It was tighter than I remembered and I had to wiggle into the pants. The shirt was tight across the front of the chest, but I somehow managed to get the buttons together. I made
sure the collar was high enough to cover the scar across my neck. The men gawked enough at my breasts, I didn't want them to use the excuse they were looking at my war wound.
I raced out of my apartment and ran into someone who stood just outside my door. I caught a heavy whiff of marijuana on their person. My training meant that I jumped back and grabbed the butt of my gun. A grungy-looking guy stood in front of me. His baggy shirt and pants were covered in stains and dust, and he had a lopsided grin on his face. His eyes were bloodshot and his shoulder-length hair was greasy.
He tilted his head to one side and looked me over. His words were slurred and he swayed from side to side. "Hey there, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
"I live here. Who the hell are you?" I questioned him.
He shrugged. "I'm just staying with one of my buddies around here. We have a pretty good time together, but we'd have a better time if there was more of us." His lecherous eyes stopped at my tight shirt. "Yer kind of pretty. What do you say you come see us sometime?"
"Not interested," I replied.
I dropped my hand from my gun and pushed past him. He had enough smell on him for me to arrest him right then and there, but I'd have plenty of time to pick him up later once I picked up car so I could drive him back to the Precinct. As it stood, I didn't want to take a suspect into custody and have to ride a bus all the way to the precinct with him in tow.
I caught one of the downtown buses and reached the precinct by two. The precinct was one of those old marble buildings with a long flight of hearts steps up to the front door. Not exactly handicap accessible and she didn't have as much space as we needed, but the old girl had weathered through a lot of tough years and deserved the respect she got from the people who worked in her and the neighborhoods we patrolled.
I climbed the steps and walked through the front doors. There was a long desk in front of me and hallways on either side. A short, swinging door at the far left side of the desk was a shortcut to the desks behind that one. That was the main department area where we processed suspects and spoke to witnesses. The place was a madhouse, but two o'clock was always a busy time for us. That was when all the druggies like my friend at the apartment woke up and made trouble for us.
At that moment we had half a dozen drug dealers being fingerprinted and marched to the back of the building where there was enough jail cells to fit the whole block full of dealers. My fellow officers were bagging and inventorying evidence, but that didn't keep them busy enough to miss my entrance.
I walked through the swinging door and towards the back of the desks. I desk sat at the back close to the rear wall where there were separate offices for the higher ups. The guys, and most of them were male, looked up from their work and grinned at me. They weren't leering. Most of these guys were like brothers to me, and that made my job just a little bit harder. They teased me whenever they got a chance, and today I had a bullseye painted on both the back and front.
"Hey Selena! Aren't you supposed to be mummified?" someone shouted at me.
"I chewed my way through," I quipped.
"I thought you were dead," another teased.
"The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated, now if you gentlemen will excuse me I've got some trouble to cause," I returned.
I was nearly at my desk when one of the men stepped into my path. At six-foot-four he was a giant of a fellow with shoulders as broad as I was tall. He grinned down at me, and I rolled my eyes. His name was Detective Andrew Bart, and his desk stood opposite mine across the narrow aisle. We'd had our differences in the past, mostly on cases where we were shoved together. He always wanted to strong arm the truth out of everything, even if that meant breaking a few chairs and a few jaws. Needless to say, we didn't get along.
"What the hell are you doing here? The docs said you wouldn't be out of the hospital for at least a week," Bart commented.
I tossed my jacket onto my chair and tried to get around him, but he stepped in my way. It was like dealing with a movable brick wall, if I was out to insult the wall's intelligence. "I'm a fast healer, now mind moving? Stupidity is contagious and I've been in the hospital enough lately."
He sneered at me. "Why don't you take your sorry-ass excuse for detective skills and go back there?"
"Because then your sorry-ass skills would feel lonely, now move it." I shoved him aside more strength than I thought I possessed and marched to the back of the room.
CHAPTER 6
The chief's square office sat against the far back wall. Through the windows I could see him seated inside in his chair. He was bent over a piece of paper on his desk and scribbling something on the report. I opened the door and stepped inside.
"No," the chief told me as I came in.
I paused and frowned. "No what?"
"I'm not letting you have the case," he explained.
I stepped inside and slammed the door behind me. "Why not?" I asked him as I marched up to the desk.
He didn't bother looking up. "You know the rules. If you're in too deep you don't get the beat."
I slammed my hand on his desk. "But Howard can't solve this case! He's an idiot!"
"He's not involved and I didn't trust Bart to take the case, so he's got it," the chief told me.
I frowned. "Why didn't you trust Bart the case? I know he's an idiot, but this should be a pretty simple trail to follow. You've already got the victims, it should be a cinch to find something about the murderer on them."
The chief sighed and looked up from his paperwork. "Because one of the guys has been identified and he's got a long record with Bart. I didn't want that idiot Bart to bungle the case just to get one last revenge on him."
"Give me the name, and I'll give you some peace and quiet," I promised.
The chief shook his head. "I know you better than that, detective, and the answer is still no." He pushed a blank sheet of paper towards me and set a pen on top of it. "You're neck-deep, literally, in this mess and the only thing you're going to do to help is to be a good witness and write down of statement of exactly what you saw that night." I frowned and turned my back on. The chief's voice stopped me at the door. "Selena?"
I glanced over my shoulder at him. "What?"
"It's good to have you back, and next time try to steal little more clear of death," he suggested.
I couldn't help but smile a little. "I'll see what I can do."
I stepped outside the chief's office and walked to my desk. Unfortunately, Bart was waiting there for round two. He stood beside my desk and had his arms crossed over his chest.
"Don't you have a case to go or something? I asked him.
"You think I'm going to let you push me around just because you're girl?" he sneered.
I slid into my wheeled chair and looked up into his eyes. "No, you're going to let me push you around because I can."
Bart snarled and slammed her fist into my desk. My werewolf bobble-head doll twitched and danced. Bart leaned down towards me. "You can act all tough in front of the chief, but when you get out side this place you're no better than anybody else. Hell, you can't even handle yourself against a bunch of dead guys."
I narrowed my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I heard you said something about some guy saving you in that alley," he explained.
"Who told you that?" I questioned him
"The guys that responded to your request for help. Needed more than one guy to help you?" he sneered.
I growled, and my hand whipped out and grabbed his throat. I pulled down so he was face-to-face with where I sat in my chair. "I didn't need anybody's help. Randy called for backup, and the guy I muttered about is a suspect in the two murders, and hell will freeze over before I ask a murderer for help."
Bart's eyes bulged and his lower lip quivered. I looked past him at the rest of the office. The room was eerily quiet. Everyone was frozen in place and their eyes stared in shock at me. I shoved Bart away from me, stood and grabbed my coat.
"Go home." I spun around and caught something in the air. It was my car keys. The chief stood outside his office door and nodded at the front of the building. "Go on."
"But-"
"I said go home, detective. Come back tomorrow with your statement, but leave your badge and gun at home," he ordered me.
I frowned at him. "Is this a suspension?"
"It's friendly advice. I recommend you take it, and a couple days off," he suggested.
I turned away from and stalked down the aisle between the desks. Everyone made room for me and in a few moments I was on the steps of the precinct. The sun shone down on me, but all I felt was a creeping coldness inside of me. I stopped midway down the steps and lifted my hand to look at my upturned palm.
The chief was right, I needed a couple of days off. I had a temper, but I'd never lost my temper that quick, even at Bart. I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. God, did I need a drink.
The mention of a drink rang a bell in my memories. There was this one place I knew about that probably served up more than the usual fare, if their clientele was anything to judge by. I could get a drink, and maybe get some answers to what happened that night.
First, though, I needed to get my ride back. I walked around the precinct building and to the side. The employee parking lot stood there, but I didn't find my car where I left it. That was fine. I didn't expect to find it there anyway.
I walked through the parking not into the rear of the precinct. There was a fenced-in yard back there, the kind with spiral loops of barbed wire on the top and Beware of Dog signs posted every ten feet. The fence was made of heavy chain-link and had slats in the diamonds to hide what was behind it. I went to the wide, double-door gate and rapped on the chain-link.