by Renee George
Then I swam up as hard as I could to pull it open, but I was yanked back for my efforts and dropped my tool and the twine. I surfaced for air then went back down again. I positioned my stepped on the chain of the trap, found the twine, and tried again.
I couldn’t budge it. I wasn’t strong enough as a raccoon to hold the trap down and pull up on the string at the same time. All I was doing was killing Lieberman faster.
I surfaced again, shifted, and let out a frustrated scream. Dom shouted my name.
“Don’t come in! There are traps everywhere!” I warned.
Lieberman’s head slid under water.
No, no, no. Oh, God, he wasn’t going to make it, all because I wasn’t strong enough. No, I thought, I won’t give up. Not on Lieberman and not on myself. I lifted his chin, getting his face out of the water. “Come on, buddy. You have a pregnant wife at home that needs her husband.” I gave him a breath before inhaling deeply and diving under again. It was harder to concentrate without the extra layer of fur, but I managed to find the twine again. I pressed down on the chain on either side with my feet and pulled up on the string with all my might. It was slowly opening. I only hoped I could get Lieberman free before I ran out of breath, and he ran out of time.
Finally, the damn thing opened enough for me to yank Lieberman’s foot out of the trap. I let it go, and it snapped shut. I swam up. Lieberman was passed out, and he’d stopped breathing. “I’ve got him,” I shouted. I swam on my back, keeping the poor man above me and away from the other traps. I kept going like that until we were at the shore and Dom hauled us both out.
Breathlessly, I said, “He needs to be resuscitated.” Lights and sirens roared in the distance as Eldin and Taylor performed CPR on him. I prayed to anyone listening to save him. To not let him die. When Lieberman started coughing and throwing up water, all good signs, I started laughing, and then crying, as Dom rocked me in his arms.
As the police vehicles roared into the field near the pond, I looked up at my green-eyed rock, and said, “How in the world are we going to explain this to Dad?”
Dom kissed me. “I think he’ll forgive you this time.”
I shook my head. “You obviously don’t know my father.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lieberman was taken to Doctor Smith. He’d had several strips of skin missing from his torso and back, his right pinky toe had been cut off, and the bear trap had dug into his leg pretty deep, so he’d lost a lot of blood. Having it happen in cold water had actually saved his life by slowing down the flow. Although, if he hadn’t stepped into a trap at all, he’d have probably been back home. The call to his wife had shaken me. She’d cried hard racking sobs of relief, and I’ll admit, I teared up. That he was alive was hopeful, but he hadn’t woken up since his heart stopped. Doctor Smith worried he might have suffered some brain damage due to hypoxia.
We gave our statements to my dad, who told Eldin if he was “so fired up to work on his time off, then he could take first watch at the clinic to keep Lieberman safe.”
Poor Eldin. Taylor didn’t get off any easier, his brother Tyler laid into him hard for getting himself “involved in a dangerous game, and the fact that you are wearing a bulletproof vest should have told you just how stupid your actions were.” Taylor didn’t look one bit phased by his twin. Instead, after the heavier brother finished his rant, Taylor put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder said, “It’s okay, bro. I’m okay.” They hugged it out. It was all very sweet...Until dad turned his attention on me. Oy.
After several hours of getting my butt handed to me by my dad first, then later at home by my mom, I took a hot shower, put on my warmest flannel pajamas, and crawled into my childhood bed. I’d freaking saved a man tonight. I was not going to feel bad about it.
However, I did feel bad for Dom. His plan to get on my parents’ good side was failing miserably. Still, Lieberman was safe, and that as all that mattered right this minute.
Mom opened my bedroom door and sat next to me on the bed. She combed her fingers through my hair. “You know you scared your dad, right?”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry that I worry him, but he’s going to have to let that go. I’m not a child anymore. I’m a trained agent, a law enforcement officer just like he is, and people depend on me. My job puts me in the line of fire, and that’s something that Dad is going to have to learn to deal with.”
“You will always be our child, and no matter how rational you want to be about your choice to integrate and work for the FBI, it doesn’t change how we see you or how we love you. One of these days you’ll have your own kids, and you will know exactly what we mean.”
“You mean, I’ll be punished for putting you all through the ringer.”
“No, I mean you’ll be blessed to know a love that you would give up your life for. Your dad almost sacrificed his job for you the last time you were in town. He and I would do anything to protect you. That’s both the joy and the bane of parenthood.”
I nodded. “Is Dad still awake?”
Mom offered me a sad smile. “Wait until morning to talk to him. The world always looks a little brighter with the sunrise.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She kissed my forehead. “I love you, Puddin’.”
THE RATTLING WINDOW pane woke me up at two in the morning. Another rainstorm had kicked up during the night. I lie there awake, the covers tucked up under my chin, for what felt like hours but according to my digital clock had only been seven minutes.
I couldn’t stop thinking about dessert pastries and Dom. Both delicious ideas and I needed to satisfy at least one of my cravings. I opted for the sweet rolls since they were less complicated. Decision made, I eased out of bed and moved as quietly as my damaged ankle would allow from my bedroom to the hall and downstairs to the kitchen trying not to wake up the whole house. The pain pills had kicked in, and between them and my own bodies ability to heal quickly, I wasn’t hurting much.
The sweet rolls were under a floured cloth in a pan. I grabbed a glass from the cabinet above the sink and got some milk from the fridge.
“The doctor said you weren’t supposed to put any weight on that foot.”
I fumbled the glass of milk in my hand, spilling half of it on the floor. “Damn it, Dom. You scared the crap out of me.”
“I wasn’t being sneaky, unlike a certain raccoon I know.” He grabbed a paper towel off the roll and cleaned up the mess I’d made. “Your dad lit into you pretty hard. You okay?”
“He’s just worried about me.”
Dom took my roll and glass of milk from me and set it on the small table in the kitchen. “I can relate.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Why do they call you, Puddin’?”
“Oh, that.” I shook my head. “Apparently, when I was around two-years-old my folks found me out in the yard after a hard rain eating mud and happily squealing, pudding! It became my nickname.” I sat down across from him. “I’m just glad I wasn’t shouting, poop!”
Dom laughed. It was warm and rich. I noticed he wore a light blue T-shirt, one of those super soft almost translucent ones, and a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms. I fantasized as I chewed the sweet bread about untying the rabbit ears’ bow and watching his pants fall to the floor. Bow-chicka-bow-wow.
The space between Dominic’s brow creased. “What are you thinking about?”
“Uh, nothing, why?”
“You are humming.” He raised a brow. “Nicole Rae Taylor. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were undressing me with your eyes.”
I raised a brow back. “Then I guess you don’t know me at all because that’s exactly what I’m doing.” I shoved another bite in my mouth and stood up. “I’d better get to bed.”
Dom shook his head. “You’re a hard woman, Nicole.”
I limped around to his side of the table and sat on his knee. “And I can use a hard man.” I traced his bottom lip with my index finger. “Now, are you going to take me to bed or what?”
“Your pare
nts?” Dom said.
“Are not invited,” I replied.
“They will hear us.” There was a heated strain in his voice.
I shook my head. “No risk, no reward.”
“But...”
I put my finger over both his lips. “If you don’t want me, fine. I’ll see you in the morning.” I got up and started toward the stairs. I held my breath, not wanting to Dominic to see my disappointment. I knew he was right. Probably better not to risk pissing my dad off even more, but after the day we’d had...
I squeaked when Dom scooped me up into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Woman,” he said, his voice so gravelly and growly it sent shivers up and down my skin. “I want you.” He buried his face in my neck. “I want you so bad I can’t think straight.” The warmth of his lips on my collarbone sent shocks of pleasure through me. “I have wanted you every second of every day since you fell into my arms in that stupid parking lot.” He kissed up my neck. I moaned at the feel of his mouth on me.
I weaved my fingers through his thick, short waves of hair. “Oh, God. Me too.” He carried me down the hall to the guest bedroom and took me inside. He closed the door behind us with my back as he pushed me up against it with a thud. “Shhhh,” I said, throwing my head back as his tongue dipped into the clef at the base of my neck.
He carried me to the bed and set me down, careful of my ankle. He glanced at me up and down then licked his lips. “That flannel nightgown is fulfilling all of my Little House on the Prairie fantasies.”
“You want to be the Almonzo Wilder to my Laura Ingalls?”
“I want to the Dom to your Nic,” he said softly.
My stomach did a somersault, two backflips, and a handstand. My mouth was so dry I could barely speak, but I managed to say, “Take off your clothes.”
To say that watching Dom strip was transcendental would be giving transcendental way too much credit. It was beyond sublime. He slid his T-shirt over his head, and his wide chest was covered in a layer of soft, black hair that tapered at his diaphragm before trailing down his stomach and under the waist of his pajama bottoms. I sat up and reached out for the drawstring bow and gave it a slow tug.
Dom’s eyes darkened as he knelt in front of me. His hands slid under my flannel nightgown, shoving the thick material up my thighs. “This isn’t meaningless to me.” He dipped his head and kissed my exposed knee as he spread my legs and moved his body between them. He pressed his lips to mine as he moved against me, his thick length pressed against my core through two layers of material, his bottoms, and my panties.
I rubbed my groin against him as his hands roamed my back. He reached under me and freed the nightgown, sliding it over my head and off my arms. He splayed his hand on my chest, his pale green eyes watching me carefully. “You are so goddamn beautiful it makes me ache.”
My whole body clenched with pleasure. “I’ve never been with a therianthrope,” I blurted out.
Dom frowned. “Not even Farraday?”
“God, no. You heard him. Gay. I guess he knew enough to stop seeing me when we got to the point where sex was next.”
Dom’s thumbs brushed my nipples making them go instantly rigid. He pressed his hard length against me as he wrapped one arm around my back. “Once you go black bear you’ll never go back there.”
I laughed. “Don’t ever say that again.”
He nodded. “Promise.” He put his free hand on my chest and eased me back into an arch, his mouth clamping over my nipple. I lifted my legs, bending at the knees to give him more accesses. He reached down between us, his clever fingers slipping under the fabric of my underwear to tease my aching sex.
Jesus, this slow play was killing me. “I can’t...” I panted. “I can’t...”
Dom stopped what he was doing and stared at me as if I’d punched him in the gut. “If you’re not ready, we can wait. I’ll wait as long as you want. Just don’t say we can’t.”
I took a deep breath and tried to settle myself to finish the thought. “I. Can’t. Wait.” I reached over and hooked my thumbs on his waistband and tugged his pajama bottoms down until he sprung out at me like a loaded cannon. “I need you, Dom. I need you right now.”
I tried to squirm out of my underwear, but his body and legs, and arm, and everything was impeding my ability to get naked.
I let out a frustrated noise that turned to triumph when Dom reached down and ripped them clean off me. It hurt for a second, but not in any way that spoiled the moment. He lifted my legs and drove himself into me. I grunted and moaned as his girth split me wide open. I could feel every inch of him as he moved. God, he was so big, more than I’d bargained for, and it took a moment for the pain to convert to pleasure. I wrapped a leg behind his back, my hands finding purchase as I clawed at his shoulders.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, tears leaking from my eyes. “Please, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
He wrapped me tighter in his arms as his lower half continued its erotic assault. My body went hot and tingly as I felt the first bright burn of an orgasm building inside me.
“Nicole,” he murmured. “Yes, yes.” He groaned. “You feel so good. So good.”
The bright burning turned my body into a pressure cooker in need of a serious quick release. “Ah!” I cried out. My back bowed as I shuddered against Dom’s chest, unable to do anything other than ride the wave of ecstasy. His fingers tightened on my shoulders as his thrusting became shorter, quicker, more insistent, and then he groaned on one final hard thrust, as he climaxed right after me.
He held himself above me for a moment, wiping the tears from the sides of my face. “I promised it wouldn’t be quick.” A sweet smile played on his lips. “I lied.”
“Next time,” I said. “God, I love looking at your face.”
“I love looking at your face,” he said back. His gaze narrowed at me, suddenly serious. “Make no mistake, Nicole. I’m falling in love with you.”
“I...”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The loud, angry knock on the door had Dom rolling off the bed and me grabbing for my gown. My dad’s voice penetrated the room. “Farraday called. Your victim is awake and talking.”
Chapter Twenty
Ray Lieberman sat up in bed, his skin pale and his face gaunt with extreme dehydration and malnourishment. His wife, a small, pear-shaped woman with a basketball-sized baby pooch for a belly.
“My sister is watching our children,” she said, grasping Lieberman’s hand as if it were the only thing tethering her to the ground. “Thank you so much, Agent Taylor. You and Agent Tartan have given me back my life.” She began to cry. “My life.”
“Bunny,” Lieberman said softly. “Don’t cry. I’m okay. I’m safe now.”
She sniffed hard then nodded.
“Mister Lieberman, I need to ask you a few questions. I’m sorry it has to be so soon after you’ve been reunited with your wife, but every minute we wait gives your abductor the opportunity to cover his tracks,” Dominic said. “This guy has been ten steps ahead of us the whole time.”
“But not tonight,” Lieberman said. He gave us a faint smile. “Ask your questions.”
Dom looked at the man’s wife. “Mrs. Lieberman, would you wait in the hall until we’re done?”
“No,” she said with such emphatic determination. “I’m not letting this man out of my sight. Not for a solitary second.”
“It’s okay, ma’am.” I gave Dom a nod. “You can stay.”
“Can you describe the man who took you?”
Lieberman closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them back up, he gave a slight shake of his head. “He wore a hood. I never saw his face.”
Dom passed me a look of disappointment. “Anything identifiable? Height, weight, hair color, eye color, scars, tattoos, anything.”
“His eyes,” Lieberman said. “They were strange.”
“Strange how? Overly large. The color? S
hape?”
“The color. They were really light, almost colorless, but not the pink-white of an albino. I have a cousin whose albino, and this was different.”
Weird, almost colorless eyes? Dom and I both said, “Lark.”
I nodded. “It makes sense. He has access to the compound, and he has the hallmarks of a psychopath.”
“He struck me from above. I managed to see his shadow on my steps, so I’d ducked and turned.” He touched the bruised and cracked bridge of his nose. “Whatever he had hit my nose. I tried to fight, but he managed to get his hand around my mouth and nose. The rag he put over my face smelled like chemicals, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It had kind of sweet scent.”
“Ether, maybe,” I said.
Doctor Smith joined us in the room. He gave his patient a sympathetic look. “How are you feeling, Ray?”
“Better. The salve you put on the cuts has made them feel a lot less painful.”
Everyone in these parts knew the secret to the doc’s ointment. It was lycanthrope spit. Apparently, the saliva of a lycanthrope had industrial strength antibodies that not only numbed pain but also sped healing exponentially. There wasn’t a home in Peculiar that didn’t have a small tin of his wonder-drug.
The doc looked at Dom and me. “Can I talk to you both in the other room for a moment? I think Ray and his wife could both use the break.”
We followed the tall werewolf back to his office. He closed the door behind us. “I can tell you both, now that I’ve been able to examine one of the Little Piggy victims, that the person who tortured Ray Lieberman is the same person who killed Lloyd Evans. The cuts were made with the same kind of blade.”
“Are you sure?” Dom asked.