Memphis Heat 1 Stakeout (3 page)

“Again, how would that be in your jurisdiction?”

“Funny thing about werewolves, Officer. There’s not a whole lot of written regulations on them. Most government entities like to pretend they don’t exist. We show up, they’re more than happy to let us take cases like this off their hands.” He looked back to his paperwork. “As I was saying, you and your partner are being transferred to my team.”

Didn’t it just figure the FBI would have a unit to deal with werewolves? Miller held out paperwork, which she refused to take. “Team? What team? What have you done to my partner?”

“Done to him?” Agent Miller sat back in his chair as he waved a dismissive hand. “Ms. Duprey, there’s nothing your partner can teach us about werewolves. In fact, from the looks of things, we may be able to teach him a thing or two. We need to focus on who’s the enemy, here. The Russian pack that’s moving into Memphis is nothing your department wants to deal with on its own. The fewer people who know werewolves exist, let alone that they’re taking over some of the biggest US crime gangs, the better. The last thing we need is widespread panic. However, since you already know about werewolves, your chief seemed to think it best to transfer you along with your partner. If you’d rather speak to your captain…”

A shadow filled the doorway, blocking out the midday Memphis sun. “She’ll accept the transfer.”

“Jarod!” It was all Belle could do not to throw herself into his arms. Damn him and his
professional
, anyway. Her relief was almost immediately followed by a surge of anger. The bastard had her worried sick, and he was perfectly fine! “Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you were dead!”

“Werewolves are nothing if not resilient.” Miller waved Jarod to the empty seat beside Belle.

By now Belle knew to expect almost anything from Jarod -- anything but him following the rules. But instead of the tirade she’d expected, Jarod sat down beside her, accepting his folder as if… as if this was just another assignment. As if this was normal. As if anything would ever be normal again.

Jarod. Calm. Self-assured. Looking like he knew what the hell was going on. It was more than she could take. “What the fuck is happening here!” she shouted at him. At them both. “I wake up, not in the hospital, where any sane woman expects to be after a friggin lunatic pack of Russian werewolves blows up her and her partner along with some warehouse full of -- whatever the fuck was so damn important, anyway? I wake up and find out I’m in the infirmary at the FBI Regional Headquarters -- which, by the way, does not friggin exist! I’ve barely got my Jell-O down when some skinny-ass nurse orders --
orders
-- me down here. My clothes are gone. Everything I’m wearing’s got FBI all over it in eight-inch-high letters. And now I find out everyone but me knows everything! I’m sick of being the last to know what the hell’s going on!”

“Looks like the two of you need to talk.” Miller stood, gathering the files in front of him as he did. “I imagine you have quite a bit to discuss.”

“Not here,” Jarod growled, tugging Belle to her feet. She stumbled after him down the hallway, his longer strides urgent and almost forcing her to jog to keep up. “This isn’t a peep show, and I know you have that room wired for video and sound.”

Belle’s face flamed. Did the big oaf have to go and mark his territory so blatantly? The whole damned FBI would know he was fucking her before the day was out. If they didn’t already. Was that the only reason she was here? They wanted the werewolf, and he’d told them they were a package deal?

No, that wasn’t right. Jarod would have been more likely to agree to whatever the feds wanted if they’d promised to keep her out of it. Always trying to protect her. Inwardly, she groaned. What if they had the same rule as the department about sleeping with your partner? Would they split them up?

“Not on your life.”

If Jarod could read minds now, she was going to kill him. That was more than she was willing to handle.

“I’ve always known what you were thinking, and I’m telling you they will
not
split us up. They can’t.” He paused. “I won’t let them.”

“God, I need a drink.” Belle’s head ached with the enormity of all she’d learned in the last few hours. Bizarre. It was just all too bizarre. “What the hell do they want with us, anyway?”

“Werewolf Task Force? What do you think they want?”

“That explains why they want
you
. I’m not a werewolf.”

“I know. They want me to go in undercover. I guess you’re supposed to be my handler or something. Or you can pose as my lover.” They rounded the corner and Jarod shoved her into a closet, locking the door behind them. “They think we can sell it.” He didn’t give her time to protest, but swept her into his arms and found her mouth with his.

The bitter taste of fear and desperation was strong. Belle was surprised she could distinguish his emotions in a simple kiss, but then, this was Jarod. Almost from the first day she’d met him, she’d had a special connection with him. This was the same thing, only… more. More of everything. The intense love and lust she had for him seemed magnified even more than usual. Perhaps the thought she’d almost lost him had a lot to do with it. She didn’t know. Truthfully, she didn’t care. He was here. Alive and needing her.

She reached between them, sliding her hand deftly into the waistband of his jeans to find his swollen cock and squeeze. It had been a while, but they had enough of a history for her to know exactly the way he liked it. She squeezed firmly, wrapping her hand around him like a sheath. When he grunted and thrust into her palm, she knew she had the pressure just right.

He pushed her hand away, but only long enough to strip out of his clothes. Not bothering with finesse, she did the same, shedding the standard issue FBI sweats. He had the good grace not to laugh at the FBI issue sports bra. He was more focused on the sight of her tits spilling out of their tight restraint.

“Mine!” The growl shouldn’t have surprised her. It reminded her exactly what he’d become and she really should have been scared, but it just made her wet. A thrill raced through her, leaving her weak-kneed with anticipation. He cupped her breast and squeezed gently, pushing the soft weight high as his thumb feathered over her nipple. Tension wound around her tighter and tighter with every movement of his hand, his hips, his mouth.

Sweeping aside a stack of neatly ordered cleaning supplies from a nearby shelf, Jarod urged her to sit, spreading her legs and holding her thighs open as he dropped to his knees, swiping his tongue over her wet, swollen cunt. There was no way Belle could contain her scream of pleasure. If the whole damned complex heard them, what did she care? Jarod wouldn’t let anyone separate them. She knew that without a doubt now.

Desperately, Belle clutched his head, grinding her cunt against his mouth. She needed this. Needed to take what he gave and just…
feel
. His tongue speared into her, licking and flicking everything he could reach. He pulled back to lavish attention on her clit before plunging in again. By the time he stood and guided his cock to her entrance, she was nearly mindless with the need to come.

“Fuck me!” she ordered. “I want to feel that cock buried balls-deep in my pussy.”

“How can I resist when you ask so pretty?” With what might really be superhuman strength, he slammed into her, her back hitting the wall with every thrust of his hips. Already, she could see him growing beyond the bounds of his human body. She felt him shifting this time, saw the change as it swept over him. Frightening. But beautiful.
So beautiful
. Because whoever -- whatever -- he was, he was still Jarod.

Her partner. Her lover. He needed her. Now more than ever. And he was still trying to protect her. They’d always had each other’s backs. Nothing would change that. She wouldn’t let it. Wherever the hell he was going, he wasn’t going alone.

“Harder!” she growled as he pumped into her, his thick girth stretching her with every thrust. “Harder! Make me, Jarod. Make me come.”

“My mate,” he roared.

His throaty growl sent heated desire and lust coursing through her. There was no use denying his claim. Hell, she wanted to roar the same exact thing about him. They just belonged together.

“Yes!” she screamed as she came, her essence flooding over his cock. “Claim me! Make me yours forever!” Only now. Only when he was too far-gone to think did she hiss her command in his ear. “Bite me!”

* * *

Deep inside, what was left of his reason screamed at Jarod to stop. But, damn it, he
wanted
to turn her -- wanted to make her his true mate. It was stupid and selfish, but when she whispered for him to do exactly what his heart had been needing for months, there was no way he could stop himself.

As he continued to mindlessly sate himself within her tight, wet cunt, Jarod bit down on her shoulder. The coppery taste of her blood hit him hard. Immediately, an intense euphoria overwhelmed him. Her taste was salty, yet sweet, enticing him to hold the essence in his mouth just to let the flavor linger. His mouth watered and he knew that, with every lap of his tongue over her damaged skin, his saliva trickled into the wound. Whatever he’d become, no matter how much he loathed that side of him, she would become the same thing.

The small part of him that protested against the wrongness of what he was doing rapidly diminished as an overwhelming sense of satisfaction swamped him. Jarod was claiming his mate. Everything in him insisted this was what he was supposed to do, that if he wanted to keep her, this was the price. Much as he needed to protect her, he needed her with him as well. There had to be a way to balance the two. And Jarod knew he would find it.

Unable to do anything else, Jarod lost himself in her heat and her passion. Belle clung to him, urging him on, welcoming his touch. His possession. She nipped at his neck, gently tugging at the skin only to lap at it, soothing the ache. Any pain he felt enhanced the eroticism of the moment. He hoped Belle felt the same way because he had no doubt she had a nasty wound. If he’d hurt her…

“That’s it, baby.” Belle dispelled any notion he had that she felt anything but pleasure with that simple statement. “Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

As if she’d flipped a switch, Jarod’s mind eased and his body wound tighter and tighter on its way to bliss. Over and over he buried himself in her heat. The feel of her hot, wet cunt pulsing around him was unbelievable. So good. So goddamn good. She was so goddamned tight! The change to his wolf form seemed to heighten the sexual experience. Maybe it was because his body mass was bigger while she was still small, or maybe it was just that his senses were so much more acute. Either way, this heaven was killing him. He’d always prided himself on making sure Belle’s pleasure came first, but there was no way he was going to be able to hold off any longer.

With a fierce howl, Jarod exploded deep inside Belle. Jet after jet of his seed flooded her cunt. His cock swelled as he held himself as close to her as he could get, buried to the hilt.

“Mine!” His roar hurt his own ears. The thought that he should be mortified at his bold -- and rather loud -- declaration of the marking of his territory nagged at him, but all he could manage was intense satisfaction.

Until he realized his cock was still swelling.

Belle still humped him, rubbing her clit along the rough hair around his cock. Her breathing was rapid and desperate for several seconds before she, too, let loose a scream that threatened to bring down the rafters. Jarod groaned as her body tried to choke the life out of his dick with each spasm of her orgasm. He suspected there might be a problem when he didn’t shift back to his human form, but thought it might just be the heightened sexual pleasure.

Before he tried an experimental withdrawal, he let Belle’s breathing return to normal. She went limp against him, and Jarod just held her. God, he loved her! He’d never been willing to admit it before, trying to keep it about sex. But he’d known from the moment he’d first been introduced to her he was a goner. He wished he could have waited until they’d gotten back to his quarters within the Bureau building. He could have just lain there with her and held her. Now, he had to get them both dressed and face the smirking faces that would look at him like he was a freak.

Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, Jarod moved away from Belle. Or tried to. He knew before the widening of her eyes and her sudden indrawn breath of discomfort he was in trouble.

“Oh, my God.” Belle always had a gift for expressing the obvious. Jarod had always been certain she did it to vex him. Now, he honestly couldn’t think of any other way to say it either.

“Belle, I am so sorry.”

“Are you… knotted?”

Silence.

Belle ducked her head, resting her forehead against his chest but still clinging to him instead of trying to free herself. She didn’t seem distressed.

Then he felt her body start to tremble. If she was crying… “Look at me, Belle,” he commanded, trying to pry her head up. When she refused, Jarod became really alarmed. “Belle? Oh, God, please look at me.”

The second she lifted her face to his, all those protective, tender thoughts flew out the damned window. His mood darkened, and he wanted nothing more than to turn the little vixen over his knee and give her a good spanking. “I don’t see anything so goddamned funny about it.”

Immediately, Belle’s face straightened into a semblance of contrite respect, carefully devoid of all humor. Of course, the effect was ruined when she burst out laughing a second later. She took the sting out of her laughter by wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him to her. Grudgingly, Jarod relaxed, too grateful she wasn’t repulsed or frightened to be really mad. But then, that was his Belle. There wasn’t much that scared her when she decided she wanted something.

And she’d wanted this, he reminded himself. Wanted him. Maybe, just maybe, she loved him, too. Enough to follow him into whatever hell he’d gotten them into this time.