LustUndone

by Holt, Desiree

  When he pulled his fingers out she cried out, demanding he fill her again but Clint had other ideas. He turned her around, placing her hands flat against the tile wall, and went to work on her back. Down the sweep of muscle, dancing along her spine, rubbing the rounded globes of her ass. She heard the hiss of the squeeze bottle then those talented fingers were sliding into the crevice of her buttocks, up and down, massaging, rubbing.

  Instantly she remembered the feel of his cock in her ass and a surge of lust shot through her so strong she actually shook from its intensity.

  “You like that, non?”

  “Yesss,” she hissed, barely able to get a word out.

  “You loved my cock in your ass last night.” He bit her shoulder lightly then kissed the spot. “And I will do it again. Because it makes you mine. Remember that.”

  As he murmured the words against her skin he pressed one finger into her hot, dark tunnel, sliding it in and out. Sophia’s pussy clenched, spasms rippling through it. She felt completely empty when he withdrew the fingers, soaped his hands again and smoothed the lather up and down her legs.

  When he reached the lips of her cunt he stroked through the slit then found the nub of her clit.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  The next moment he felt a finger sliding into her ass again while with his other hand he continued to rub and pinch her clit. Everything inside her body was roiling with need, the coil of orgasm unsnapping deep inside her and spinning through her until it exploded with the force of a rocket.

  Clint drove her through it, fucking her ass with his finger and rasping her clit over and over until the last tremor subsided and she sank weakly to her knees. Brushing her wet hair aside, he kissed her nape and stroked his hands over her body then pulled her back against him so she was resting on his thighs.

  “You’re so beautiful when you come,” he murmured.

  “You’re going to kill me,” she said in an uneven voice.

  “Non! That would definitely defeat the purpose.”

  Sophia rose shakily to her feet. “My turn,” she told him and reached for the shower gel with hands that still trembled slightly.

  She looked up at him and he was grinning lecherously at her.

  “I can’t wait to feel your hands all over me.”

  She lathered and soaped him the same way he’d done her, taking her time, scraping her fingernails over his nipples and smiling as he sucked in a breath. His body was well toned, his muscles solid and sculpted, his abs as hard as concrete and his stomach firm and flat. She could feel the firm definition of those muscles, the flex of them beneath his skin as her hands roamed over him. She teased him with her hands up and down his legs before finally reaching for his cock and squeezing it gently.

  Hands slick with lather, she caressed him from root to tip, slowly up and down before cupping his balls and squeezing them gently. When she pushed at his shoulder to signal him to turn around he lifted an eyebrow at her.

  “You like to play hard, chere.”

  “What’s good for me is good for you,” she said, nudging him again.

  She made him stay in the position he’d arranged her in, hands flat against the wall, legs spread as she worked lather into his broad back, his strong arms and legs and finally reaching his very fine ass. Working her finger into him the way he’d pressed his into her, she pushed until it was all the way in. Clint sucked in a deep breath and his whole body tightened.

  And when she reached around to take his cock in her other hand a low groan rumbled from his throat. She worked his shaft and his ass, setting up a tempo, in and out, in and out.

  “You keep that up, chere, and I’m gonna come right now.”

  “Do it. I want you to.”

  “But I want to be inside you,” he pointed out.

  She laughed softly. “No problem, big man. Remember, I know just how many times you can come.”

  She loved the sounds of his guttural moans as she worked him, slowly at first then faster and faster.

  “Oh, hell,” he ground out. “Here it comes.”

  His entire body tensed and in seconds his cock was pulsing in her hand, thick semen pouring over her fingers in hot spurts. Sophia squeezed his shaft rhythmically until the last drop had pumped from it before sliding her finger from his ass. Then, very deliberately, nudging him to turn so he could watch, she licked the cum from her fingers.

  “Jesus, Sophia,” he breathed, still trying to catch his breath. “Give a guy a break. Watching you do that makes me want to fuck you right now but my poor dick needs time to recover.”

  She laughed softly. “Not all that much time.”

  They soaped each other completely one more time then rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. Clint dried himself quickly before blotting the water drops from Sophia, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed.

  “Let’s see how much time we really need, okay?”

  “Don’t forget Logan’s expecting to run with you tonight,” she reminded him.

  “Logan can wait his turn,” he growled, leaning over her to take a nipple into his mouth.

  * * * * *

  “I don’t think either of us got much rest last night,” Logan joked, slightly bleary-eyed as he drank the hot coffee Sophia handed him.

  She’d decided to brew coffee in the little kitchenette area instead of waiting to get to a restaurant, knowing they could both use the jolt of caffeine.

  “Did you guys find anything while you were out?” She blew on her coffee then took a slow sip.

  He shook his head. “No. We split up and each took a different section. You know how fast we can run as wolves so we covered a lot of territory. We each mentally marked some possible sites but we hardly even saw a deer. Or anything else.”

  “Damn.” She nibbled her lower lip. “I just have a really bad feeling that we’re too far behind the curve here.”

  Logan opened his mouth to answer but before he could get any words out Sophia’s cell phone rang. She looked at the readout and flipped it open.

  “Morning, Bec. We’re about to finish our coffee and get out of here.”

  “You better not stop for breakfast this morning,” her sister said.

  Sophia’s stomach knotted. “Why? What’s happened?” But even as she asked the question she was sure she knew the answer.

  “Another body. Husband found her just after first light.” Her voice was strained and sharp. “Get here as fast as you can.” She rattled off the address. “Can you find it?”

  “I think I remember the location but we’ll just plug it into the GPS.”

  “Get your ass moving. Bobby’s already headed over there with the team and the crime scene techs.”

  “On our way.” She clicked off and looked at Logan. “Another dead body. Early this morning. Let’s move.”

  “Damn it.” He tossed back the rest of his coffee and pitched the cup into the trash. “Just damn it.”

  When they pulled into the driveway they could see activity everywhere. Yellow crime scene tape was strung all around the detached garage, the crime scene techs were photographing everything and placing orange markers on certain spots and Bobby Lacroix was talking to a tall, disheveled-looking man.

  Rebecca trudged up to them, lines of strain marking her face. “It’s awful. Just awful.”

  “Who is it?” Sophia asked.

  “Her name is Elaine Warren. She’s a pharmacy tech at the hospital. Her husband works security for Xeniplex, the big manufacturing complex outside Houlton. He came home from a night shift and when he pulled into the driveway he saw something on the snow in front of the garage. He really freaked when he discovered it was his wife. Dead.” Pain shadowed her eyes for a brief moment. “Body ripped open, blood drained.”

  “Shit.” Logan clenched his jaw. “Just shit.”

  “He looks like he’s taking it pretty hard,” Sophia commented.

  Rebecca nodded. “He’s still in shock. They’ve been married ten years.”


  “Any kids?” Logan wanted to know.

  Rebecca shook her head. “Just the two of them. Now it’s just him.” She held up her hand when Logan started forward. “Before you talk to Bobby I want you both to take a close look at the body,” she said. “A very close look. And tell me what you see.”

  Sophia frowned. “Why?” She studied her sister’s face. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there? What is it?”

  “Just…pay careful attention. Then come talk to me before you say much to Bobby.”

  Bobby and Scott Mooney were still talking to the tall man when Sophia and Rebecca reached them.

  “This is Harland Warren,” Bobby said. “It’s his wife Elaine who’s been killed.”

  “I’m very sorry for your loss,” Logan said.

  The man just nodded, his face expressionless.

  “Okay if we take a look?” Sophia asked Bobby.

  “Of course.” He walked her to the side, away from the grieving widower. “But Sophia, I think it’s clear now we’ve clearly got a nut running around loose. I’ll need to contact the sheriff and get support from him on this. We need all the manpower we can get to canvass and dig around.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Logan and Sophia moved carefully over to the body, stepping around the marked areas. The minute she saw Elaine Warren’s lifeless form she knew what Rebecca was talking about. When she looked up at Logan she saw the same thing in his expression. He took her elbow and steered her to the side of the garage, away from the activity.

  “It’s not the Chupacabra,” she said the minute they were out of eavesdropping range.

  “No,” Logan agreed. “It’s not.”

  “For one thing the woman’s got a huge bump on the side of her head. It looks like she was knocked out before she was killed.”

  “Or else the hit killed her.”

  “And look at the cut right down her body from neck to crotch. Too clean. It looks like it was made with a knife or something equally sharp. The devil beast uses its claws and the incision is much more ragged.”

  Logan rubbed his jaw. “Two puncture wounds in the neck that look like they were made with some kind of instrument. And most importantly, not all the blood has been drained.”

  “If this was a deliberate kill,” Sophia commented, “whoever drained the blood wasn’t able to get it all. I pointed it out to Bobby and he shrugged it off. Said maybe the killer saw Harland’s car coming down the highway and had to leave in a hurry.”

  Logan snorted. “Yeah, right. Leave in what? There’s no evidence of another vehicle here.”

  Rebecca had walked up to join them. “I tried to tell that to the team but it’s almost as if they don’t want to hear me.” Her voice was edged with frustration.

  “They’re good detectives,” Sophia protested. “Why are they being so stubborn about this?”

  “Because they think our theory is nuts,” Logan told her, “and they’re determined to prove us wrong. I’ll admit it’s pretty farfetched but you’d think they’d pay attention to all the proof we’ve got.”

  “It’s almost as if they’re afraid to admit we’re right,” Sophia said. “They’ve been very polite about listening to us and looking at everything but you can tell they just wish we’d go away.”

  “I’m sure Bobby’s convinced he’s got a homicidal maniac running around but I think this was more personal,” Logan told her. “I don’t believe it has any connection to Darrell Franklin.”

  “If you tell him that,” Bec pointed out, “he’ll just get his back up. He thinks he’s back on familiar ground and he can start looking for a crazed homicidal maniac.”

  “He needs to look into who would want to kill this woman,” Sophia said. “That’s his starting point.”

  Logan blew out a breath of frustration and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe if I mention to him that I don’t think this is the work of a creature he doesn’t even believe in we can go from there.”

  Bobby listened as Logan explained his theory although he didn’t seem particularly open to it. “What are the chances we have two killings exactly alike, as horrendous as this, in a county like this?” he asked. “There has to be a connection.”

  “But they aren’t exactly alike,” Sophia protested. “For one thing, Elaine Warren’s got a bump on her head the size of an orange. Darrell Franklin didn’t have one. Nor have any of the other Chupacabra victims.”

  Bobby rubbed his gloved hand over his face, tension in every line of his body. “Forgetting about your crazy theory, what are you suggesting? Any other alternatives?”

  Sophia shrugged. “Isn’t the spouse the first person you look at in every killing?”

  “You mean Harland?” He glanced over at the man, now standing with Scott and another detective. “No, I can’t see that. Besides, what connection does he have to Darrell Franklin?”

  “My point exactly,” she told him. “There’s no connection between those two killings.”

  “Because Franklin wasn’t killed by a human predator,” Rebecca added, “and Elaine Warren was. Bobby, don’t be so stubborn. At least consider the possibility.”

  “You’re driving me nuts, you know that.” He rubbed his face again, the lines of tension cutting deep groves into his cold-roughened skin. “I’ve got to get back to my sergeant with all of this, and he’s going to have to confer with the public relations office in Augusta.”

  Logan frowned. “Why Augusta?”

  “Because it’s the state capital and that’s where his office is located. All statements—and I mean all—come from his office. But he’ll want Greg to sign off on everything first. Shit, shit, shit. What a fucking mess.”

  “Will you at least look into her life, okay?” Sophia asked. “What can you lose?”

  “All right, all right.” He stared at Sophia. “I know you don’t agree that this is probably some illegal who snuck over the border, but holy shit, Sophia. I can’t see anyone around here doing something this bizarre.”

  She started to say something but he cut her off with a sharp movement of his hand.

  “We’re also borrowing deputies from the sheriff to help with this. I’ll give them assignments to question people. Including friends and neighbors of the Warrens,” he added before she could say something. “Make sure we aren’t tripping over each other.”

  When he walked away Logan turned to Sophia. “I’m surprised the sheriff isn’t handling this anyway.”

  “In Maine the state police have jurisdiction over all murder cases. The county sheriff and his staff assist but that’s it.”

  “I’d say we can do a little nosing around ourselves,” he said, “but agreeing that this isn’t the work of the Chupacabra, it’s still out there and we have to find it.” He looked at Sophia. “Clint’s going out with me again tonight. He’s got some ideas of other places to look.”

  “I can make some phone calls,” Rebecca told him. “There are people I know who I can ask about the Warrens. People who might know if there was trouble in their marriage.” She looked from Logan to Sophia and back again. “People who might tell me personally things they wouldn’t tell any of the guys or the sheriff’s deputies.”

  “Then do it,” Sophia told her. “I’ll make some, also, to people I remember. We can tell Bobby we’re going to do everything we can to help him out.”

  She nodded. “We should still take the snowmobiles out again, too. Not waste one minute.”

  “Agreed.”

  Logan pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Meanwhile I’m going to take some pictures and send them back to the ranch. Dante Martello, one of our team,” he told Rebecca, “is very good with photographic comparisons. He can tell us for sure if this is the devil beast or not.”

  “Good idea. And I’ll go let Bobby know what we’re up to. He’ll just tell me we’re wasting our time with the snowmobiles, but as long as he sees we’re also working with his theory I don’t think he’ll object. Certainly not as far as you two are
concerned.”

  “I don’t want him to pull you away from us,” Logan told her.

  She grinned at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll work my charm on him.”

  * * * * *

  Logan was beginning to think the beast had vaporized or disappeared in some other way. On the way to get the snowmobiles he and Sophia had stopped at the motel so they could check in at Desolation Ranch via webcam. Logan had already sent the pictures directly from his cell and he hoped Dante had looked at them already. And maybe had some other information for them.

  “The time period between kills is running out,” he told Ric, “and we’re getting damn frustrated.”

  “I understand,” Ric said. “Believe me.”

  “Did Dante get a chance to compare the photos I shot with the ones we sent of Darrell Franklin? And also those you have of the kills in South Texas?”

  “He did. And he agrees with you. Take a look. I’m putting them up on the screen. And here’s Dante to give you his opinion.”

  Logan and Sophia watched while Ric’s face disappeared from the computer to be replaced by the images on the large screen in the ranch’s comm room. Five photos were up there side by side, all the bodies of Chupacabra victims.

  “You’re looking at four different bodies.” Now it was Dante Martello’s voice coming over the microphone. “You can see the difference immediately in the cut down the length. Those from the confirmed Chupacabra kills have slightly ragged edges while the one on this latest body is clean, almost like an incision. I’d say it was done with some kind of very sharp instrument.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Logan agreed.

  “Also,” Dante went on, “the puncture wounds at the neck look as if they were made by a tool of some kind rather than fangs or sharp teeth.”

  “There was an attempt to drain the blood,” Sophia told him, “but it was a half-assed job. And the detective team just thinks it’s because the killer was frightened away.”