Drake the Defender

by Rhiannon Neeley

  Grace whimpered.

  “Tell me,” he said, increasing the pressure as he circled her clit.

  Grace couldn’t take it. Her muscles twitched. He was driving her insane. “Fuck me, Drake,” she said, her voice rasping in her throat.

  He gave her clit a squeeze between his fingers, almost sending her over the top. “I didn’t hear you say ‘please’.”

  Enough! Grace gripped the table, her knuckles white. She licked her lips. “Drake … please. Fuck me.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said.

  In one smooth stroke, he buried his cock deep inside her, so far that she felt it bump against her cervix. Grace let out a shuddering moan as he pulled back, then speared her again, filling her with his pulsing heat.

  Grace knew she wouldn’t last long. Her heart chugged like an engine. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears as he again gripped her hips with both hands.

  “Damn, you are so wet, so tight,” he said, his voice strained. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold back.” He began a rhythm, his strokes faster, forceful.

  Grace was on fire, her blood boiling. She could feel her cream slickening her thighs, his hot shaft ramming into her. “Ohhh,” she said breathing hard, her release ramping up higher and higher.

  She heard Drake groan behind her. “Yes,” she said, urging him on. “More.”

  Drake held her, his fingernails digging into her skin as he pistoned his cock into her pussy so powerfully, that her feet came completely off the floor.

  “Oh God!” Grace screamed as the dam burst. Wave after wave of pure passionate release rolled through her, making her tongue and her toes tingle.

  Drake roared, slamming into her, as he came along with her.

  Grace felt sweet release wash through her as Drake collapsed on top of her. She forced her fingers to let go of the edge of the table, struggling to catch her breath. “That was…” she said, gasping.

  “Amazing,” Drake finished for her, his own voice raspy.

  “Y-yeah.” Grace closed her eyes, resting her cheek on the table. “Could you…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Could you get up? I can’t breathe.”

  Immediately his weight disappeared.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking a deep breath.

  Drake moved away, pulling out of her. Grace felt suddenly empty without him inside. She heard him pulling on his pants. With a sigh, Grace pushed herself up and stood. Her knees were weak but damn she felt … satisfied.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Drake asked, handing her shirt to her.

  She shook her head, taking it from him. “No. That was—geez—I can’t even express how damn good that felt.” She slid her arms into her shirt and started buttoning it, foregoing the restrictions of her bra.

  Drake grinned. “I aim to please, Sheriff.”

  Grace’s fingers froze on the buttons.

  “What’s wrong?” Drake asked.

  She looked up into his eyes. “What have I done?”

  Drake frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Grace snatched her panties from the floor and stepped into them. “I just let a prisoner have his way with me. My Lord, what was I thinking?” She threw her hair back over her shoulder and grabbed her pants. The legs were inside out. She gritted her teeth and started tugging at them.

  “Well, you don’t need to worry about me,” Drake said, taking the pants from her. He flipped the legs right side out. “I’ll never tell.” He handed them back to her.

  Grace slipped one leg in.

  “I will,” Harry said.

  Grace choked back a scream and turned.

  Harry stood in the doorway, his face red with rage. “I’ll most definitely tell.”

  Chapter Five

  Barack’s patience was wearing thin. His injury didn’t help his disposition much either.

  Barack had shifted into wolf form and fled from the place where the fool human had shot him in the arm and now he lay just at the edge of the property where the woman Grace lived. His front leg hurt, the bullet still lodged inside. He licked it trying to sooth the pain, not understanding why there was pain at all. He hadn’t felt pain since he had been turned by a vampire, other than the slight pain when he switched forms, until now.

  He laid his head on his paws and gazed at the house where she lived. Funny, he thought, I wonder if the small taste of her sweet blood has changed me in some way.

  It was possible. Barack had heard that sometimes, if there was a strong enough attachment to the person, human blood could reawaken a vampire’s sense of humanity. He had a glimpse of it when he had met Lydia, the woman that Eric had stolen from him, up in Maine. If this was a glimmer of what he could feel with Grace, there was no way he would give her up to anyone. But, Barack knew, he had become weak. Not physically necessarily, but mentally he felt beaten. Losing Lydia—and his Clutch of vampires—in the battle in Maine had made him realize that even though he was a vampire, he wasn’t invincible.

  The lights were on in the house where she lived, casting a warm yellow glow into the night. It looked safe there. Cozy. Barack wished at times that he could experience what a place like that would feel like. Maybe with Grace, he could enjoy some semblance of it.

  A car pulled into the driveway of the house and parked.

  Barack raised his head, not on alert, just interested. He’d been here before, after killing the cow and running from the man. He had watched the house, but had not thought it wise to get too close. Now that he had tasted Grace, he wouldn’t hesitate. But first he had to heal. He eyed the car pulling in, knowing that it wasn’t Grace returning home. It wasn’t the little red car that she favored. The one that had just pulled in was low and loud, dark blue. The car door opened and the young male got out. He stood by the car and looked around for a moment. Barack wasn’t sure what this man was to Grace, but he did know that the man lived in the house with her and the other older man. He had heard Grace call the older man ‘Daddy’ and knew it was her father but this one—Grace and this one she called Rogue, raised their voices to each other constantly. They could be siblings. But they also could be lovers.

  Barack watched the young man walk toward the back door of the house. The one called Rogue was muscular with wide shoulders and the walk of a man confident in his strength. Rogue’s hair was pale blond, shoulder length and Barack noted that he always wore it loose, tucked behind his ears to hold the long bangs back from his face. Rogue opened the back door and called out.

  “Dillon!”

  The door slammed shut behind him as he stepped inside.

  Barack lowered his head to his paws again. He would deal with the ones called Rogue and Dillon when the time came.

  Barack’s first objective was Grace and making her his. She had wavered in her resistance to him when he had marked her earlier. If he’d had more time before the other man’s intrusion, she would have been Barack’s this night.

  The next time Barack had her in his arms, there would be no hesitation, no savoring the moment.

  He would turn her instantly.

  Then she would be his.

  Forever.

  * * * *

  Grace scrambled to finish dressing. Her face was on fire. Her emotions ran the gamut: embarrassment, fear, anger. She wondered just how much Harry had seen before he spoke, letting them know he was there.

  Letting her know he had seen enough.

  “I’ll see you in your office,” Harry said, then stormed out of the room before she turned around.

  Grace’s hands shook as she tucked in her shirt. Tears of frustration burned behind her eyes.

  Drake reached for her. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you trouble.”

  Grace let out a sarcastic laugh. “You have no idea.” She shook her hair out.

  “Listen,” Drake said, catching her chin, “I’ll vouch for you. It was my fault, not yours. I’ll defend your honor.”

  He looked so serious, his forehead creased with concern. G
race’s heart melted. He really did want to help her, but he had no idea what he was up against. “You’re sweet,” she said, taking his hand and lowering it from her face, “but I’m afraid ‘my honor’ has just been totally destroyed.”

  “It can’t be that bad. Consensual sex between two adults is not against the law.”

  “It is when one of them is an elected official who used County property to satisfy her fantasies with the suspect she arrested.” Grace’s heart was sinking lower by the second. Her job, her reputation, was in the trash heap if she didn’t figure out some way to explain herself to Harry. She released Drake’s hand and started for the door of the cell. “I’ve got some major damage control to take care of,” she said, going through the door and closing it behind her. “As soon as I can get the paperwork in order, I’ll release you.”

  Drake came up to the bars. “Does this mean you’re not going to use the handcuffs on me?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

  Grace felt a tingling down low in her belly. She leaned forward, grasping the bars. “Well, that depends,” she said. “There’s always the possibility that I might have to arrest you for speeding or something. Then again, I sort of wonder myself what it feels like to be … shackled.”

  Drake placed his hands over hers, his face an inch away. “My, my Sheriff. I may just have to see what I can do to satisfy your curiosity.”

  Grace breathed in the male scent of him, lust for this man filling her. If she didn’t leave now, she might be tempted to open the door to the cell and go back inside. “I have to go,” she said, working her hands out from under his.

  “Don’t be long.” He smiled, fangs gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

  Grace turned away and started for the door.

  On the way to her office and her confrontation with Harry, she remembered the man who had attacked her up above Salt Lick. She gingerly touched her neck, feeling the raised welts where his fangs had grazed her, the tiny pinpricks where he had bit her. When she did release Drake, she had an awful lot of questions about his dental work. And why he had it.

  Grace entered her office, prepared for battle.

  Harry was perched on the edge of her desk, arms crossed, a scowl on his face. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  Grace took a deep breath and moved behind her desk. She sat down in her chair and reached for a set of release papers. “I’m releasing the suspect.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  Grace slammed the papers down on the desk. “Alright—spit it out.”

  Harry stood. Bright spots of red rose high on his cheeks. “You and that—freak…”

  “He’s not a freak.”

  “He’s got fangs for goodness sake!” Harry’s hands flew in the air. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Grace leaned back in her chair. She may as well let him get it all said.

  Harry paced in front of her desk. “We’ve got multiple murders, a suspect in custody, some weirdo running around up on the mountain and to beat it all—you’re coming up for election soon. What would your Daddy think, Grace? What would Rogue?”

  “You know what Harry? I’m fully aware of the murders. I’m very aware that my position isn’t a solid one right now. But I don’t give a hoot about what my Daddy and Rogue think about who I choose to spend my time with.”

  Harry slammed both hands down on the desk, making her jump.

  “Spend time with?” Harry said sourly. “You were letting a prisoner screw you while I was checking on Arnie for a pulse. What the fuck is wrong with you Grace?”

  Grace’s heart almost stopped at his words. “Arnie?”

  “Arnie’s dead.” Harry straightened up.

  Grace caught her breath. “What? How?”

  A knock at the open door interrupted them. Grace swung her attention to the man who stood at the door. “Did I really hear what you just said, Officer?” the man asked.

  Grace rose from her desk. “Can I help you?”

  The man entered the office and offered his hand. “I’m Colin Moore.”

  Grace shook his hand. Colin was just a few inches taller than her. Dressed in a dark suit, his chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail, his most striking feature was his eyes. They were dark green, almost a pine color. “What can I do for you, Mr. Moore?” Grace asked.

  “Well, you can tell me why you have my client, Mr. Drake Raven, locked up for starters,” he said. His voice was mellow but his attitude was all business.

  “I’m just getting the paperwork together for his release. If you’ll just give me a few minutes, he’ll be ready to go.”

  “You arrested him for murder, is that right?”

  “Yes. I’m afraid we’ve had some trouble over the last few days and Drake—Mr. Raven—was a prime suspect. But after reviewing the facts, there is no evidence to hold him, though we’d like Mr. Raven to remain available should we need to talk to him.”

  Moore cleared his throat. “I have to ask, since I walked in on your conversation … did you have sex with my client while he was in custody?”

  Grace had had enough of this whole day. “You know what? That’s a private matter between Mr. Raven and I. If you want to ask him if I abused my authority, you’re welcome to.” She sat back down at her desk. “Now you’ll have to excuse me—I have three murders to solve.”

  “Four,” Harry said.

  Damn, she’d forgotten about Arnie. “Harry, take Mr. Moore back to see Mr. Raven…”

  “I’m not done talking to you,” Harry interrupted.

  “You are for now!” Grace felt her blood pressure soar. “Do as I ask and then wait at Dot’s desk for the extra deputies I sent for.”

  “Come on,” Harry said to Moore. He shot Grace a look. “This isn’t over Grace. Not by a long shot.” Then he disappeared through the door, Moore following close behind.

  Grace dropped into her chair then buried her face in her hands. Why had her life turned upside down? Why, within the course of one day, had she endangered everything that she had strived for?

  Because Drake Raven was everything she had ever dreamed of and for once, she had allowed herself to indulge. But it wasn’t just the mind-blowing sex that drew her to the mysterious Drake Raven. She felt a tenderness in him that was even more seductive than how he took control of her. Tenderness in a man was something Grace had never experienced. Not with her father, her brother or Rogue.

  Not with anyone.

  She rubbed her face and shook herself. Stop worrying about your own problems and get the job done, she told herself.

  She had a killer loose in these mountains.

  * * * *

  Drake watched Colin Moore stride into the room behind the deputy who had caught him and Grace in an uncompromising position.

  “Well, Drake, it seems that you are to be set free,” Colin said.

  Drake ignored him for a moment and stared down the deputy. If looks could kill, Drake would be six feet under. Drake shot a probing thought into the man’s mind, searching for the reason behind the Deputy’s anger. He wasn’t surprised to find that the deputy was considering running for Sheriff himself. What did surprise him was the fact that Grace as competition wasn’t the reason for the man’s anger. The reason that the deputy wanted to pull his gun right now and put a bullet through Drake’s head was because he was in love with Grace.

  Now Drake understood. But what the Deputy didn’t know was that Drake himself was also in love with the feisty wench and there was no way that anyone was going to keep him from her.

  “Colin,” Drake said pulling out of the Deputy’s hatred-filled mind. “Speed this up. I need out of here.”

  Twenty minutes later, Drake stood in Grace’s office. “We need to talk,” he said.

  Grace looked up. “Yes. But I have work to do now.” She frowned. “I need to ask you—why do you have fangs?” She raised a hand to her neck, resting it just below her ear. On her jugular vein.

  Drake sensed so
mething wrong. He moved around her desk, pulling her hair back. “Let me see,” he said.

  Grace lowered her hand. There on her neck were two scrapes that trailed down her neck and two distinct puncture marks. “Who did this?”

  “There was a man. A strange looking man. He had the oddest yellow eyes.” She looked up at Drake. “He had fangs, too. Like yours.”

  “Not like mine,” Drake said, pulling her up from her chair. “We have to go.”

  “Wait a minute…” She tried to pull from his grasp.

  “Do you want to catch your killer?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then come on,” Drake said, pulling her out of the office.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To find your killer.”

  Outside, the night was full on, darkness hovering over like a cloud. The storm had only served to add moisture to the already humid air, making it feel as if it were raining when no drops fell. Drake headed straight for his car.

  Colin was just getting in his own car, preparing to leave.

  “Colin, wait!” Drake stopped by Colin’s car. “Contact the Unkindness. Tell John we missed one.”

  “You’re kidding,” Colin said.

  “No. I’m not.” Drake looked at Grace. “We’ll take my car.”

  Colin pulled out his cell phone and dialed as he got in his own car and drove away. Drake opened the car door for Grace. “Get in.”

  She slid into the seat but braced her hand on the door so he couldn’t close it. “You’d better be doing some explaining here really quick.”

  Drake smiled. He loved the slight southern softness to her voice that was there, even when she was trying to be tough. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  She nodded, then let him close the door.

  Drake hurried to the driver’s side.

  He had a good idea where the “murderer” may be.

  Somewhere near the old coal mine.

  * * * *

  Grace braced herself as Drake spun the tires in reverse and pulled his car out of the lot.

  “So start talking,” she said, turning slightly in her seat. His face was illuminated by the dash lights. Even with the serious expression on his face, Drake still caused her to fight against the urge to climb into his lap and straddle him. Her libido had gone haywire since he had shown up, making her want to act on every craving she had ever dreamed of. She swallowed, trying to get her mind back on the business at hand.