Fiery Moon Page 3

  “Sit,” I snarled as my hands undid my gun belt and set it on his coffee table, knocking over a brown beer bottle.

  His eyes were on me, hungry, as he leaned back and watched me unbutton my khaki pants. His smile grew as the fastener popped and the zipper rasped. I shoved my pants and panties down with one go, exposing my shaved nethers, my spicy musk filling my nose.

  “Mmm, you are hot today, baby.”

  “Shut up,” I growled. “And get that fly open. I need to feel that cock in me.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” His smile only grew. He didn't mind me taking charge at all. He unzipped his jeans and produced his thick, hard cock.

  I bent down, tearing at the knots of my boots, kicking them off followed by my pants and panties. He admired my sleek, muscular legs up to my pussy, licking his lips as I moved to him. I didn't bother with my blouse or bra as I straddled him.

  I had to fuck him. Fuck that cock. Show Shane I wasn't his bitch. He had his chance with me. This was what he got for leaving me.

  My hands seized his shoulders, and I impaled myself on his thick shaft. I blew out my breath as his girth filled me to the hilt. My pussy clenched on him as I leaned back, shuddering. So thick. So good. My hips moved, fucking Ajax, sliding up and down on his cock.

  “Damn, Veronica,” he groaned, his hands seizing my hips, fingers rough from hard work. “Damn, you are hot today. What has gotten into you?”

  “Shut up and take it,” I hissed, pumping harder, sliding my pussy up and down his cock. “Oh, yes, take it.”

  I fucked him hard, fast. Anger propelled my hips as much as lust. I pictured Shane watching, his cock wilting as he realized I didn't need him. That I had moved past him. I wouldn't be tied to an asshole who didn't even so much as text me once in three years.

  Asshole.

  Cocksucker.

  My pussy slammed up and down Ajax's cock. So hard it hurt. I embraced the ache, my clit throbbing each time I crushed it against his groin. His cock filled me. So big and thick. My fingers clenched on his shoulders, digging into the material of his jean vest as the pleasure built and built.

  “Damn, Veronica,” he growled, his hands sliding up, pushing my blouse over my hips so he could stroke my stomach with his strong hands. “Shit, yes. Fuck me. I don't care what's gotten into you. Work that cunt on my cock.”

  “Yes!” This would show Shane. Asshole.

  I hate-fucked Ajax, pouring all my anger at Shane into pumping my hips. The pleasure swelled in me. A vicious, delicious thrill. It built in my core as I slammed harder and faster. I groaned, hips bucking, my body trembling.

  The orgasm swelled hard and fast in me. My fingers clenched even harder as I howled my delight. I kept picturing the look of emasculated hurt on Shane's caramel face. The humiliation knowing his mate had fucked another man.

  “Such a better cock,” I moaned, my eyes squeezed shut.

  “Then whose?” Ajax asked.

  “Shut up,” I hissed. “Just take it. Take my pussy. Come in me. Do it! Make me explode and come in me. That'll show him. Yes!”

  I slammed down on Ajax's cock and came. Hard.

  Pleasure burst out of my depths. It was fast, powerful. It bowled through me and left me shuddering on Ajax. His hands seized my ass, sliding my spasming pussy up and down his cock as I thrashed, the pleasure shooting through my mind. He groaned and gasped as he unloaded over and over into me.

  “Shane!” I hissed as Ajax erupted into me.

  “Fuck,” he grunted, slamming me down his cock. He groaned and twitched, his hips bucking. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Hot seed filled me. My eyes rolled back in my head. It had been a long time since I let a guy fuck me without a condom. But I didn't care right now. I had the pill. I would be fine. And it was so wonderful to feel hot seed in me. I groaned and exhaled my pleasure before slumping forward.

  “Damn, Veronica, what the fuck was that?”

  “Are you complaining?” I asked, leaning back, sucking in breaths.

  “Not really,” he said, a grin sliding about his face. “You're not pissed at me. I guess I'm glad you chose me to get back at this Shane guy.”

  I frowned. “How do you know him?”

  “Shit, you cried his name out as you were cumming. Damn, what did this guy do to you, Veronica? You are angry. And there's only one reason that makes a woman this angry. I didn't think you were the fall-in-love kind of woman.”

  I snarled at him. “You don't know much about me, Ajax.”

  He shrugged. “Guess not.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Damn, I need a beer. Want one?”

  I shook my head and climbed off of his softening cock. I groaned, his seed spilling out of me. Normally, I would race to the bathroom and clean up, but I wanted Shane to really smell Ajax's come on me. So I grabbed my panties and pulled them on, trapping the mess.

  Ajax arched an eyebrow. “Fuck me, you are really pissed at this guy.”

  “I'm going to rip his heart out and eat it before him,” I snarled, shoving my legs into my pants.

  “Remind me never to piss you off. Fucking werewolves.” He shook his head. “This town is crazy.”

  I shrugged and bent down to pull on my boots. I had to drive out to Missoula now and pick up Shane. I shouldn't though. Why should I come running when he called? I should let him rot at the airport.

  But then he wouldn't get to smell me. And that sent a hot surge of pleasure through me. Oh, I hoped his face fell when he smelled Ajax's come and my hot pussy.

  Chapter Three

  I regretted the decision to wear dirty panties and not to clean up after my romp with Ajax not too long into the drive to Missoula. It became uncomfortable as I squirmed. Wet. Sticky. I wish I had a clean pair of panties to change into as well. An hour into the drive, I pulled into a rest stop to rinse myself up the best I could and wash them in the sink, but they were still damp.

  And that sapped at my anger. I needed to keep my anger honed. I couldn't relent. I had to keep it burning hot. If I relented, even for a moment, then he would own me. I would fall into his power. I was a werewolf. He was my mate. The imprint was powerful, instinctual.

  I hated it so much. Humans didn't have to put up with this BS.

  If I was a normal woman, I would have just moved on. I would have been hurt, but it had been a fling. Hell, I might remember our passionate fucks with fondness, thinking about them on cold, lonely nights, using Shane as the measure against future lovers.

  Well, I still did that. Shane was amazing. He was...

  No. Stop that. Don't think about him. But the drive grew more and more boring as the road wound out of the foothills and onto the plain. My thoughts drifted, despite my best efforts, to the first time we fucked...

  ~ ~ ~

  Three years ago...

  “I doubt he's actually here,” Shane said as he drove his bronze Camaro down the bumpy, unpaved rode. We were up in the mountains over Moonrise. “But you never know. Some guys can't resist pussy.”

  I glanced at the file on my lap. There was a picture of Becky Murphy, a werecoyote shifter who was a sometimes prostitute for the Donovan gang as well as the former girlfriend of Michael when he lived in Moonrise a few years back. She had a sallow face and lank-black hair.

  “Not a girl I'd risk my freedom over,” I muttered. “You're a guy. What's the appeal?”

  “Sometimes a pretty blonde is hard to find, and you settle for what'll get you off,” Shane grinned, his eyes running over my body.

  I hated my uniform. It did little to show off how hot I was.

  “Besides, Michael's not the pickiest of men.”

  “None of the coyotes are.” A sneer curled my lips. “Inbred filth.”

  The Donovans were a tightly knit group of coyote shifters. Werecoyotes were lesser wolves, always hunting around our scraps. And the ones in Moonrise were the foulest I had ever met. They ran most of the crime, from petty thefts to gambling to prostitution. They preyed on the miners and their fat paychecks.

&nb
sp; “And Michael's one of the worst. Never wears clean clothes. Always looks like he just rolled out of bed. Becky must seem like quite the prize when he's in town. But I really doubt he's here. He can't be that stupid.”

  “You never know.” I glanced at the road. “Her driveway's coming up. Just around the bend.”

  “You've been to her house before?”

  “Trailer. And it was for domestic violence. My first week on the job. Becky and this miner she was shacking up with were hitting each other. Poor miner had his face clawed to hell and his arm broken. She just had a bruise on her cheek. We arrested them both. She made bail. I think her trial's next week.”

  “Charming.”

  “Country life is full of it,” I grinned.

  He shifted gears, the engine growling as he made the turn and drove us up the steep hill to Becky's trailer. It sat on the top of a rise overlooking a road that wound its way back around the peak and intersected the highway in a few miles.

  “She's a biter, so watch out,” I told him.

  “I like it when a woman bites.”

  I flashed him my teeth. “You like a little pain, huh?”

  “Always spices things up. You know when she's biting and clawing that you've made her reach passion she rarely gets to feel.” He glanced at me. “You ever clawed your lover's back?”

  “Not recently.”

  “Then they are doing it wrong.” He shook his head. “What a shame.”

  Damn. I wanted to leap at him right now. Fuck the dead-end lead with Becky. Michael wouldn't be here. We could just fuck. Right now. I was on fire. I had been burning since we left the police station, thirty minutes of simmering on the stovetop while we drove out here. There was room in the car. His seat could lean back a bit farther. I didn't care if the steering wheel poked my ass.

  I just wanted to claw his back and bite him. I wanted him to give me that passion.

  His smile grew as he breathed in deeply. His senses were keen. He smelled the tangy musk of my juices. There was no hiding how turned on I was. And he loved it. I could see it in his eyes. They spoke volumes. I made this wolf-bitch hot and horny. She wants me bad. I just have to sit here and wait for her to pounce.

  Damn him, I wanted to pounce so badly.

  The road reached the crest. Becky's trailer appeared, her yard strewn with rusted cars and other piles of junk. The aluminum siding of her trailer was once painted green, but it had peeled in spots and reddish stains streaked the side from the metal roof. It was falling apart and should be condemned.

  A curtain moved. Becky's face appeared for an instant, looking sallow as she peered through the window. Then the curtains yanked shut as Shane hit the brakes and stopped the car.

  Shane let out a growl as he wrenched open the driver's door. “He's here.”

  “What?” I gasped, blinking out of my sexual daze. “How do you—”

  A gun fired. A lot.

  I had heard guns fired before. They made a loud crack that always hurt my sensitive ears. But this was different. The gunshots came so close together. So rapid. I had fired my sidearm many times. Every squeeze of the trigger followed by the gunshot. There was always a tiny pause between cracks no matter how fast a person pulled the trigger.

  Not this time. An automatic weapon shot at us.

  The gunshots spilled one on the other, their explosions merging together. A rat-tat-tat of continuous fire. Muzzle flash leapt through the window Becky had peered out of, the glass shattered and curtains torn to shreds. The bullets slammed into the Camaro. Metal pinged off the car's hood. The windshield frosted with spiderweb cracks.

  I dived out of the car, my heart beating, and hid behind the passenger door. I drew my gun. A tire deflated, the air hissing out, a wheeze almost drowned out by the gunfire. The radiator burst and a cloud of sickly-sweet-smelling steam rose from the hood.

  “Fucker,” snarled Shane as he ducked behind his car door, his handgun out. It wasn't a 9mm like mine, but a Colt 1911 firing .45. He peered around the door and squeezed off a pair of rounds.

  I was terrified to move. Michael had a fucking machine gun. And he was shooting at me. I felt naked, and I wore a bulletproof vest. Which was more than Shane had. But the tiger didn't flinch as he unloaded his gun at the trailer's window, his gun barking, his shots steady, aimed, trying to hit the bastard.

  I had to help. I was a cop. A wolf. I couldn't cower while a fucking coyote shot at me. I was better than the mangy cur. I wasn't a scavenging piece of shit. I took a deep breath, leaned out around the car door, and fired at the window from which the flames spat.

  “Reloading,” Shane shouted, his voice so calm as I squeezed off several rounds.

  The glass window of my door shattered. Pebbly safety glass rained down on me. I gasped and ducked behind the door again. I winced as a bullet punched through it an inch from my forehead. The door was just sheet metal or aluminum, not much protection between me and a bullet.

  “Retreat to behind the car,” Shane called. “I'll cover you.”

  I nodded my head, my heart hammering. Having the entire car's body between us and Michael made a whole lot of sense. He flashed me a smile, his brown eyes dark and wild. Hints of black stripes burned on his skin.

  “Go!”

  He leaned out and fired. I turned and scuttled low down the length of the Camaro and ducked behind the trunk. The machine gun fired off another burst, bullets pounding the car. It rocked as the rounds struck it.

  “I'm here, I'll cover you,” I shouted as I leaned over the trunk and fired through the car's shot out front and rear windows. My bullets struck the tattered curtain. The gunfire stopped.

  Did I get him?

  Shane rushed back and dropped behind me, slapping another magazine into his .45. “My last one.”

  “I have two more,” I answered as I ducked down, my gun empty. I pressed the button, ejecting the mag, and slapped in the next.

  Gunfire raked the car. Shane laughed. I gave him a wild look. “How can you laugh? We might die.”

  “Because I've spent months looking for this asshole, and when I find him, he has me outmatched with a machine gun. How is that not funny? The world has a sense of humor.”

  “Not a great one.”

  “You have to find the joy in everything,” he said. “You have to embrace life. Live it. No hesitations. No fear.” He rose and fired his gun, the shell casing spinning through the air.

  No fear.

  I stood up and fired with him. Our bullets knocked out more glass and struck the window frame. Michael had stopped firing. Our guns went dry. I ejected my magazine and slapped in the last one. I stared at the window, waiting.

  “Did we get him?”

  “Can't tell. Wind's blowing the wrong way to get a good scent.”

  “Do you have a shotgun in the trunk?”

  He shook his head. “I wasn't expecting to run into this much trouble. He's never been a violent guy. Just a piece of low-life shit. He used to have muscle for this kind of thing. But they got whacked back in Miami.”

  “Okay. Then stay behind me.” I swallowed. “He doesn't have to know you're—”

  A car engine started. A moment later, a beat-up, black Ford truck burst from behind the trailer, Michael in the driver seat, Becky beside him. The truck swerved, kicking up a cloud of dust as he raced down the road.

  “Damn it,” Shane snarled and rushed forward. He reached the driver door and froze. “Fuck!”

  “What?”

  “The engine's dead. The car's not running. I can smell burning oil.”

  “You lost coolant and it overheated?”

  He nodded, steam still rising from the engine. He slammed his driver door. Broken glass fell out of it. “Fuck!”

  I pulled out my radio. “Shots fired,” I called then rattled off Becky's address. “Suspects fleeing in a black Ford pickup truck. Suspect one is Michael Donovan. Suspect two is Becky Murphy. Suspects are driving north on East Roundabout heading for the highway. Unable to pursue. Su
spects armed with automatic weapons. Very dangerous.”

  “You okay?” Forrest growled on the radio.

  “We're fine. Our vehicle is out of commission. We're unable to pursue.”

  “Backups on the way. Twenty minutes.”

  I slipped my radio into my belt then stared at Shane. He was so handsome. He had been so cool, so brave during the fight. Adrenaline beat through me. My body was ready to explode. I let out a growl as he turned to face me.

  I leaped at him.

  Chapter Four

  Shane grunted in surprise a moment before my lips met his in a hot kiss. I moaned into it, my hands roaming his body beneath his shirt. His muscles were so hard. I breathed in his musk as I groaned against him. His cock swelled, hard, pressing on my groin. My hips undulated as our tongues fenced.

  My head spun. Live life, he said. And I so wanted to live right now. We almost died and we didn't. His hands seized my ass through my pants. He pulled me tighter. I shuddered, my clit aching in my panties as I ground against his bulge. Every rotation of my hips increased the throbbing bliss.

  He made me wet. He made me hot. So he had to do something about it.

  My fingers found his buttons. I worked them down and threw open his shirt. My hands stroked his muscular sides and up to his chest. My fingernails curled, scratching him. He moaned into the kiss, his hands squeezing harder.

  He broke the kiss. “You couldn't resist.”

  “Don't be surprised,” I moaned, my hands sliding down his torso. “You've smelled how wet you made me.”

  “Intoxicating.” He breathed in again, his hands guiding my hips, grinding me on his cock.

  I leaned down and licked at his chest, tasting his skin. I groaned and found his small nipple. I nipped it with my teeth. He growled. His hands moved on my waist. They undid my gun belt. It dropped to the ground, my radio squawking as my pack responded to my call for backup.

  I didn't care.

  Shane's fingers unsnapped my pants and shoved his hand into them. I groaned as he caressed the waistband of my panties. His fingers dipped in, brushing my curls. I sucked hard on his nipple, bringing a moan as he pressed his hand down into my panties.