Lust Unleashed (Night Seekers, Book One)

by Holt, Desiree

  As he watched, the door to the cabin opened and a woman stepped out onto the porch. Behind her the low light in the room outlined her figure. His wolf eyesight noted she was of medium height, with long hair that hung down her back and the hint of curves in the jeans and t-shirt she wore. Jonah licked his lips, salivating as he tried to imagine her naked.

  Cool it, you asshole. You’re here on business, not to ease the ache in your balls.

  Then he noticed the shotgun cradled in her arms. All right, then. No fooling around here. Had she heard something? Not him. He was moving so silently he barely heard himself. The Chupacabra? If he was there he was masking his scent really well. He lowered himself to the ground, invisible in the short undergrowth surrounding him, rested his head on his paws and watched.

  The woman walked back and forth from one end of the porch to the other, peering out into the darkness. Finally she turned and went back into the house.

  Jonah waited until he was pretty sure she had settled down to whatever she’d been doing, then moved noiselessly along the ground until he was four or five feet from the building. She had not drawn the blinds, no doubt thinking there was no one out here who could invade her privacy.

  Using every bit of stealth he could command, Jonah worked his way close to the cabin and rose to peer in the side window. If there was an animal of any kind in there he didn’t see it. Just one large room with a worn but polished wooden floor, hand-braided rugs and comfortable furniture. The woman sat in the one armchair, staring at the door, shotgun still cradled in her arms.

  He could see her more clearly now. Her hair was a rich black but glinted with reddish highlights that reflected in the light from the lamp beside her chair, tumbling down her back in thick waves. In profile he could see the classic line of her face and the way the soft fabric of her t-shirt draped over lush, full breasts. Jonah wished he could see her eyes. Were they brown or some unique color brunettes often had?

  She sat rigidly in the chair, gaze fixed on the spot where he figured the front door would be. He was sure she couldn’t hear him. Was it other animals she was listening for? Or a human predators.

  What the hell was she doing way out here by herself? He wondered if there was a husband or a lover or anyone who lived here with her. Who just happened to be away at the moment?

  Jonah backed away from the cabin and lowered himself to the ground beneath two huge, ancient oak trees. From his vantage point he could see both the cabin and the surrounding area. His ears were alert to pick up any sound unusual to the night. He lay there for a long time, watchful, waiting. He knew he should scout the area but he couldn’t tear himself away from the sight of the woman,

  Finally she rose from the chair, obviously satisfied that whatever had alerted her before was a mistake on her part. Setting the shotgun on the table, she began to remove her clothes. Getting ready for bed, Jonah assumed. What else did she do out here with no television and no evident companionship?

  As each piece of clothing peeled away from her skin Jonah felt his wolf’s cock hardening and the blood in his veins running hot. When she unhooked her bra and her breasts swung free he was jolted with an urge to run his tongue over the newly exposed creamy skin, especially those wonderfully rounded breasts with their rosy-tipped nipples. He could imagine the feel of them in his mouth, the scrape of his teeth against their pebbled surface, the cry of hunger he would draw from her.

  Next came the jeans, pushed down with a little shimmy movement that any stripper would sell her soul to copy but with this woman was completely natural. He’d expected serviceable cotton undies from a woman in a place like this, but no. His heart beat faster when his gaze dropped to the tiny scrap of pink that barely covered her public curls.

  She had well-rounded thighs and shapely calves, visible as she lifted each leg to free them from the denim fabric.

  Take off the thong! Take off the thong!

  In his head Jonah heard his human voice screaming it.

  Instead she picked up the neatly folded pile of clothes and disappeared to the right of the window.

  Damn!

  His sex drive had been dormant since he’d discovered Jenna’s horribly mutilated body late at night when he’d returned from a stakeout. Pulling into the driveway of their house just outside of town, his headlights had picked up what looked at first like a pile of discarded clothing lying beneath a tree. Slamming the truck door, he’d approached it cautiously, wondering if someone had approached their rural house. Wondering if his lover was safe inside the house which was gloomily dark at that hour of the morning.

  But as soon as he’d come within inches, he hadn’t needed a flashlight to tell him what he was looking at. The noise he made was worse than the most mournful howl of any wolf. He’d managed to call his boss but that was all. When the team arrived he’d been sitting on the ground holding Jenna’s bloodless body in his arms, trying to cover the deep tooth marks in her neck with one of his hands.

  Since that time there hadn’t been anything that made his cock flex and his balls ache, his nose twitch as he sought the musk of a female. He’d accepted the fact that sex might never be a part of his life again, despite the hunger and lust that were so rampant in each shapeshifter. He would never mate, just be the last of his line.

  But now, like a thunderbolt from the sky, the sight of this nearly naked woman had stirred his loins in a way he’d been sure he’d never feel again.

  He tamped down his disappointment that she had disappeared from his view and stayed gone for several minutes. Then, suddenly, she was back, completely nude, a towel wrapped around her head, another one in her hands that she was using to dry her body. Jonah crept closer, moving silently on his belly as if he were stalking dangerous prey.

  He had just reached the window and rose to a standing position when she lifted a leg to the chair in front of her and moved the towel over her calf and ankle. Jonah was afraid he would swallow his tongue as the lamplight caught the drops of water on the reddish brown curls covering her cunt. He wished he was closer so he could see more of her exposed slit. Could run his tongue over it and lap at her juices.

  When she lowered the leg to the floor he wanted to howl with disappointment.

  She moved away from the window again and when she reappeared she was wearing a long nightshirt and vigorously drying her hair. Okay! At least she was covered up again. But then she sat down and began brushing the long strands of her hair in a sexy, sinuous movement, made all the more so because it was completely artless. Unselfconscious. Jonah almost felt like a voyeur watching her.

  Almost but not quite.

  At last she turned out the light, plunging the cabin into darkness. The light from the half-moon reflected off the glass of the window, making it impossible to see inside. Jonah waited for a long minute before moving. Then he crept very quietly around the cabin, using the wild brush to conceal himself. He still sensed the presence of evil in the area, but it could have been a residual scent, the devil animal long gone.

  He counted off an hour in his head before starting the slow, stealthy trek up the rocky outcropping. His senses of smell and sound were finely tuned to catch any anomaly, anything out of place. Anything trying to creep up on him. When he reached the top he lay low on his belly, watching the house for a long minute or two before loping down the other side.

  He raced back to where he’d left his SUV, using every bit of cover along the way, ignoring the frightened leaping of the whitetail deer as he invaded their area. Shielded by trees, he shifted back to human form, fetched the hidden key from beneath his truck and hastily donned his clothes.

  The scent of the Chupacabra was still strong in the air but the animal seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Just as it had done after every other kill. But Jonah was determined it wouldn’t happen this time. Tomorrow he’d find out more about the woman and return in human form to scout the area.

  As he climbed into his truck again, a sense of evil skittered over his spine. He was out there.
The devil. The spawn of evil. And Jonah would find him and capture him. Then destroy him.

  * * * * *

  Dakota Furcal methodically checked her shotgun again as she waited for the coffee to brew. She was positive she’d heard something outside last night but neither man nor beast had made an appearance. The daughter of a Kickapoo woman and a Mexican tracker, she had learned at an early age how to be extremely aware of her surroundings. Living alone out here in the outer reaches of Maverick County didn’t bother her. She rather liked the solitude and it kept her from the questioning glances of the people in Eagle Pass.

  She had already made up her mind that she would live the rest of her life in this same solitude, and was content with it. The men she’d met were only interested in her as a mixed-breed anomaly, curious as to her sexual abilities. Women shied away from her thinking her strange. And she really didn’t belong in either the white or Native American world. People both in town and on the rez had made that perfectly clear to her. The wild animals were more her friends than any human.

  She didn’t mind, though. She had her projects that kept her busy. And now, with the purchase of a secondhand guitar, she had her music. It was enough for her.

  But the isolation also brought its own dangers. In such a remote location she was prey to every kind of marauder, both human and animal, but she had created her own safety net. Her father had taught her to shoot both a shotgun and handgun, making her practice until she could almost hit a target blindfolded. Dakota kept the loaded shotgun with her at all times and made sure to check the area around her cabin frequently.

  She had built a persona for herself that assured her no unwelcome human visitors would come sniffing around. Her Kickapoo mother had taught her how to make potions from the various plants and trees that grew wild around here. And like her mother, she sold them at fairs and market days, carrying on the mantle of “medicine woman”. A strange person. One who could cast spells. Her imagined magic enough to keep people away from her.

  In the past few days, however, the fabric of her hard-won serenity had rippled, disturbed by something unseen. Two days ago she’d sensed the presence of evil, a vileness so terrible it had turned her blood to ice water. The sensation had burst upon her when the viciously slaughtered bodies of the two hunters and the deer had been found. In town to do her weekly shopping, she’d heard the talk. Coyotes, everyone said. A hunting party needed to go after them.

  Oh, she knew the legends perpetuated about the unseen beast. Dakota firmly believed that’s all they were. Legends. But it didn’t hurt to take a few precautions. She made sure the shotgun was in good working order and that she had enough bullets. Then, mixing a blend of plants her mother had taught her, she’d spread the mixture around the cabin in three rows a foot apart, and chanted the appropriate prayer. Eventually the feeling of evil faded but it didn’t disappear completely.

  She would need to be very, very careful.

  All day she’d been edgy, wary, constantly checking for approaching animals or people but the desolate landscape remained undisturbed. The occasional javelina made an appearance and a family of foxes scurried through the brush but that was about it. She’d kept the shotgun with her while she’d worked outside with her herbs and vegetables. Now she leaned it against the bed as she pulled off her clothes.

  All the tension produced too much nervous energy which in turn jacked up her unsatisfied sexual urges. The bad thing about living like a hermit and disdaining most human contact was it left the satisfaction of her needs up to herself.

  When she had stripped down to just a leopard-print thong, Dakota pressed the button on her portable CD player and soft instrumental music filled the room. Just because she was alone didn’t mean she couldn’t have atmosphere. She turned out the overhead light and switched on the bedside lamp to low. Reaching into a cupboard for a goblet she pulled a half-empty bottle of wine from the fridge and half filled it. Finally she carried it over to her bed, pulled back the covers and sat on the edge. As she sipped the wine she let her eyes roam around the one large room.

  Her Kickapoo grandfather had kept it as a hunting shack, leaving it to her along with several surrounding acres when he died. Its condition had been so bad at first she’d thought about just having it knocked down. But she really wanted to be able to live out here where she might find some peace and quiet. Her home life left a great deal to be desired and she’d never been able to make friends in the small community of Eagle Pass. Even the people who bought from her at market days and craft fairs spent as little time with her as possible.

  But she’d worked hard at restoring it, even got a couple of her cousins from the rez to grudgingly do the heavy lifting. Now it was a place of peace and comfort for her. Or at least it had been until the past couple of days.

  When her wine was nearly gone, she reached into the little nightstand beside her bed and pulled out her favorite toys, a silver bullet and a lifelike dildo along with a tube of scented gel. When she’d ordered them she’d chosen the thickest dildo she thought she could take, based on her limited sexual experience. Almost everything she knew came from the erotic romances she downloaded through her satellite connection.

  The little bit of wine had given her just enough of a buzz to relax her and heighten her awareness of a routine she followed many nights. Shimmying out of her thong, she lay back on the bed, squeezing a dollop of gel onto a palm and spreading it carefully over the dildo.

  Bending her knees and planting her feet on the bed, she let the hand still coated with gel drift over her stomach down to her cunt. Idly she brushed her fingers over her clit, then spread the remaining gel on her inner lips. Not that she needed it. She was already so wet that her flesh was slick and slippery.

  She closed her eyes and slowly inserted the dildo, pressing until it was fully seated inside her, the head bumping against her womb. At once tiny nerves woke up and sparked like miniature rockets. God, she loved that thing in her cunt. Too bad she couldn’t have the real thing, but then she’d have to put up with whoever it was attached to. That had proven to be a disaster one time too many.

  Now she just enjoyed the feel of it stretching her tissues, letting her body adjust to it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the button on the silver bullet and rubbed it back and forth over her clit. She gritted her teeth as the familiar sensations washed over her. The pulse inside her cunt set up a steady beat, resonating throughout her body.

  With her free hand she cupped one breast and pinched the nipple until fiery streaks shot from the engorged bud straight to her womb. The hot need she’d kept on a leash all week burst into flame inside her. Dakota wanted to make it last, to stretch it out as long as possible but her body was just too ready.

  Acknowledging that tonight wouldn’t be slow and easy, she moved her hand from her breast to the base of the dildo and pushed the button to turn it on. Now twin sets of vibrations rocketed through her, the dildo and silver bullet working in tandem. She moved the little bullet back and forth over her clit almost desperately as her climax roared up through her.

  As the music swelled so did her body. When it reached the crescendo she exploded, clenching the muscles of her cunt down on the dildo. She squeezed her thighs together and rocked her hips again and again. When the last spasm finally ceased she managed to pull the dildo from her pussy, turn off both it and the bullet and drop them on the bed. She stretched out her legs, her entire body weak, her heart racing.

  The music kicked into something slow again. Soothing. She sighed and tried to relax. The tensions of the day had finally abated but somehow she felt more unsatisfied, more sexually frustrated than she had before the orgasm.

  And the faint sense of unease still clung to her, like a gray fog hovering in the air.

  Getting up to pour herself another glass of wine, she lifted the shotgun from where it was leaning and placed it beside her as she crawled beneath the covers. She was just imagining things. That’s all.

  What else could it be?

 
; Chapter Two

  Jonah sat in the coffee shop in Eagle Pass sipping the dark brew in his mug and watching the people around him. The little restaurant was crowded with people of all ages and shapes. His first morning in Eagle Pass he discovered it was a place where people gathered to exchange gossip and share news. Now he hung out whenever possible, letting the babble of dialogue wash over him, his enhanced hearing allowing him to eavesdrop. The conversation for the past three days had been focused on the bodies of the hunters and the deer and he listened quietly and carefully. And he’d listened to the old legends being hashed and rehashed, sometimes with fear, sometimes with the bravado of the locals who thought they could bring it down. But no one had a lead to follow. Nothing to hang a hat on.

  Every so often he’d single out someone whose words hinted they might be amenable to an interview. His carefully constructed cover allowed him to poke and prod without standing out like a sore thumb. This was a close community and strangers were like onions in a sunflower patch. So he had with him credentials identifying him as a reporter for National Crime Magazine, which just happened to be owned by Stafford Enterprises. His story was that he’d been writing stories about the Chupacabra for some time and wanted information about the latest killings.

  The past two days he’d been watching to see if the woman from the cabin came in here. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. All he had to do was close his eyes and remember her and his cock hardened and his balls ached.

  Great. He was supposed to be hunting a killer, not thinking about sex.

  Of course, that was part of the problem with being a shifter. Lust always simmered just below the surface. His human genes helped him to control it so he wasn’t indulging in orgies of mindless fucking, but that woman had roused something in him besides pure lust. Something he didn’t have time for right now.

  Trouble was, he knew he’d have to go back there because it was the last place he’d picked up the scent. And at the moment, he had no other leads. He’d tried interviewing the sheriff and the coroner but for the most part had been given the cold shoulder. Somehow he needed to talk to someone who had actually seen the fresh kill and get a look at the crime scene photos.