Freakn' Cougar (9 page)

On paper, if anyone bothered to look, the prison administrative logs had Stu working volunteer hours cataloguing the prison library from the archaic card system to a computer checkout one. In reality, he sifted the files she’d painstakingly copied over into an online cloud. The mind-numbing work, which she did at night when she left the job, helped keep some of her racier fantasies at bay—until she closed her eyes.

Then the claws came out, whatever clothes she wore in her dream state got shredded, and Patricia woke squirming, sweaty, in need of fresh sheets and a shower.

Men weren’t the only ones who could experience the joys—and frustrations—of wet dreams.

As usual, Stu knew she’d arrived, but unlike Ricky, he didn’t try and force her to admit things she wasn’t ready for. A part of her wondered if he wished he could retract his shy declaration since he’d not referred to it or repeated it, even though she’d come around to see him a few times. He kept their interactions professional, his few fumbles into social niceties awkward, for him at least. She, on the other hand, found his inability to meet her eyes when they were alone adorable. Ugh.

“Still nothing?” she queried, leaning over him under the guise of checking out the screen. In reality, she couldn’t help but inhale his scent. Mmm. Her cat practically purred in delight, and she almost forgot herself. She moved away before she nuzzled him.

“Nada.” Stu leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “I can’t find anybody on the employee lists who was at all the prisons. None of the names match, and according to facial comparisons, none of them are even related. I’m beginning to think, whoever the killer is, they’re not working for the prison system, or at least not on the public dime.”

“But who does that leave?”

He shrugged. “Private contractors. Visitors. Delivery men. Shapeshifting mice.”

A snort left her. “Mice? Now you’re really pushing it.” She leaned her hip against the table he worked at, and his eyes finally met hers. The flare of awareness no longer shocked her, but it didn’t diminish either. Nor could she help the spurt of heat between her legs when his lips curled into a smile.

“Okay, so maybe not mice. But someone is managing to slip under the radar in all these places. Someone who is succeeding in gaining access to cells, even late at night, without setting off alarms.”

“Each of the prisons handles security a little differently. Some, like this one, still use keys, but others have gone to electronic keypads. Have we traced the codes used during those windows to see who accessed those areas?” she mused aloud.

“First thing I checked. In the cases where logs were kept, it was off-duty guard codes used. In one prison, the one where the killer got to five, he used five different codes.”

She zeroed in on one word. “You said he. How sure are we that the suspect is a man?”

Stu frowned. “It seems logical. Most serial killers are male.”

“Most, but not all.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one, but you’re also talking about someone capable of killing full-grown men. Not just men, but shifters. No offense, but not many women could take one on and win.”

“But the victims were drugged.”

“I hardly see them standing still to get injected.”

“You found proof of a needle?”

Stu whirled around and tapped, pulling up an autopsy report. “Back of the neck, a tiny pinprick.”

She perused the file. “Is that the only victim showing that mark?”

“Yes, but then again, no one was looking for signs of foul play initially.”

“Which makes my theory of a woman even more possible. Think of it.” Patricia pushed away from the desk and paced. “A female, maybe one who’s befriended the guards outside the prison, gets the codes. She slips in and jabs them with a needle. Then, when they’re incapacitated, kills them.”

A moue creased his face. “That’s weak. I mean first off, having the codes for inside the prison doesn’t get her past the gate. What’s her excuse for visiting late at night? Secondly, if she’s just dating a guard, then how does she know who the shifters are? I mean, even another shifter couldn’t tell unless they got close enough to smell them.”

Patricia sat back on the edge of the table. “Way to shoot my theory down.”

“If it’s any consolation, I like how you’re thinking outside the box. It never even occurred to me to look for a female attacker. That opens up a whole new can of worms.”

“It does? How?”

“Thus far, I’ve concentrated on males on staff.”

“Misogynist,” she coughed.

He laughed. “Guilty. I’ll admit the idea of a woman serial killer is a hard one for me to grasp. But your reminder of the date rape drug, and my finding of the puncture wound, they throw it into a whole new light. And it opens up a huge pool of suspects. Secretaries, kitchen staff, nurses, dental hygienists.”

“Nuns.”

“Nuns?” He snorted. “Those little old ladies?”

“Think again. Many an abused or emotionally shattered woman has turned to god regardless of their age.”

Stu frowned. “I’m really going to have to expand my search parameters.”

“Expand them later. I need to get you back to your cell before lights out.”

“But, if you just give me a—”

She placed her hands atop his to stop him from typing. Problem was, while he froze his motions, something else chugged to life. Awareness. Passion. Need. Call it what you would, it burst into existence. Their eyes met, their gazes locked. She couldn’t have said who moved first. Her. Him.

It didn’t matter. One moment they were sitting, the next, they’d moved as if possessed of one mind out of sight of the camera. In their little corner of privacy, they clung to each other, lips meshed in a panting kiss that set her nerve endings on fire.

Where Ricky was hard all over—lips, body, even his fingers—Stu was softer, not weak soft, but more sensual, hesitant. She was the aggressor, the one in control. Her fingers tangled in his strands and locked him in place for her to plunder his mouth. She was the one pressing her body against his, revelling in the pulsing of his cock against her lower belly, making a soft moan of encouragement when his hands came to hesitantly rest on her hips.

“Touch me,” she encouraged despite her previous vows to remain aloof. What had fighting her body done for her? Nothing but make her crabby and miserable.

For two days, she’d fought the urge to touch and caress. For two days, she’d argued against taking things any further, of showing any encouragement. Like a dam being pressed by a raging river, she burst. She no longer possessed the will to control herself. She let the current of her passion sweep her away.

The tip of her tongue eased past his lips and engaged in a teasing slide across his. The fingers just below her waist dug in, and he ground himself against her, growing bolder. She nipped his bottom lip with her teeth, and he gasped. Without realizing she moved, she pressed him against the wall of the library, unheeding of the fact someone could come across them. She really didn’t give a damn at the moment. She wanted more of Stu. And she took what she wanted.

Tearing at the Velcro enclosure at the front of his jumpsuit with rough fingers, it opened enough for her to slide a hand down the front. His cock sprang eagerly into her hand, thick and hot. She pumped it, and she swallowed his groan with her mouth as she smeared the pre-cum on the tip of his cock.

“For a shy guy, you’re packing some impressive heat,” she murmured against his lips.

“Maybe that’s my problem. Not enough blood left in my brain when a gorgeous woman gets her hand on me,” he quipped.

“If this is how it gets for a hand, then what if I embrace it with something else?”

“Here? Now?” His voice rose an octave, and a shudder went through his body.

“Yes now,” she purred. Nipping at his jaw, she followed the line of his throat, kissing her way down his chest, revealed by the open vee of his jumpsuit.

“But—but, what if someone walks in.” He gasped as she sucked at the tender flesh around his naval.

“Good point.” Standing abruptly, she grabbed a chair and, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera, wedged it under the knob of the only door into the room. Secured, and guaranteed some privacy, she turned to him with a hungry, slightly predatory, smile.

Her young wolf couldn’t help his nervous swallow or hide the excitement in his dilated pupils. He didn’t move as she stalked back to him, hips swaying in a hypnotic fashion that drew his gaze. She raked her nails down his furred chest, emitting a husky chuckle when he sucked in a ragged breath. Down further, she scraped the tips of her fingers. His flesh pimpled in reaction, his senses ultra-aware of her every motion.

His jumpsuit parted farther as she slid both hands into his outfit, fist over fist, clasping the hard shaft waiting for her. He let out a groaned, “Yes, oh yes.”

Still coherent? She’d have to change that. Releasing her grip on him, she grabbed at his jumpsuit and pushed it down over his arms so that it draped at his waist. Dropping to her knees, she brought herself eye level with his groin, and she couldn’t help an impatient lick of her lips as she tugged the fabric hiding his dick.

The jumpsuit pooled around his ankles, revealing him in all his naked glory. Shy and geeky did not mean small and puny. Stu might prefer to spend his time in front of a computer screen, but his body didn’t show it. While somewhat stocky and less fit than Ricky, he nevertheless had a nice build to him, a solid body from his thick thighs and wide chest to his jutting long and fat cock.

“What do we have here?” she teased, gripping him with one hand and stroking his length. “Someone seems a little happy to see me.”

“I’d hardly say little,” he managed to utter in a low mumble.

Her laughter blew warm air on his shaft, and it jumped, responding to even that slight stimulation. “No, not so little. I wonder if it will fit. What do you say we try and see?” He didn’t reply to her teasing, unless his garbled “unnnh” counted.

The smooth skin of his cock made gliding her hand along it much too easy. The heat, though, oh my the heat rising from it just about scorched her palm. A quick peek up found him gazing down upon her with wonder and lust. His eyes practically smoldered. The intensity roused something in her and made her own body heat in response. Their eyes locked and she couldn’t help a half smirk as she stuck out her tongue and ran it around his swollen head, the pre-cum on the tip a salty flavor for her taste buds. Down the ridge of his cock she swiped her tongue, letting out a pleased growl when he swallowed hard while the cords on his neck stood out in sharp relief. Oh, how he fought to stay in control. Did he not realize he wouldn’t win this battle? Much like a kitty with a yummy bowl of cream, she lapped at him, enjoying every inch of his cock before she took him fully into her mouth, engulfing him in warmth and wetness.

Back his head went, unheeding the wall behind it, which he hit with a solid thump. It didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest because his cock remained plump between her lips. Pleased at his reaction, she worked him, lips sliding back and forth, her hand gripping the base and squeezing in rhythm. Until now, his hands had remained clenched at his side, but as if finally feeling comfortable enough, or with a need stronger than his hesitation, his fingers tangled themselves in her hair. She moaned her approval, and the grip tightened, and when he helped her bob his dick in and out of her wet orifice, she couldn’t help but purr, a sensuous rumble, which he surely felt.

“Ohmyfuckinggod,” he moaned. His pleasure rendered him practically incoherent. But would he lose control? She inhaled hard, sucking his dick, pulling at it, working it, delighted at his sobbing of her name. At least he knew who to thank.

It would have been so easy to let him come in her mouth, to finish him off, but Patricia discovered she possessed a selfish side. A hungry side that wasn’t content to let him have all the fun.

For once, a man was the one to mewl in disappointment when she pulled away from his cock, but he soon caught on the fun wasn’t done.

It didn’t take much for her pants to end up around her ankles, but they both lacked the patience to remove her boots so she could step out of them. The fact her thighs could only spread a short distance added an element of daring to the act. With her hands braced on the wall, she thrust her buttocks back and tossed a coy glance over her shoulder, smiling at Stu’s glazed look and then creaming herself as she saw him gripping his cock and keeping it primed.

“Planning to use that thing?” she teased.

“Are you sure?”

Ah, how sweet. How gentlemanly. How annoying. She didn’t want words. She wanted action.

In a low growl, she demanded, “Fuck me and quickly, would you? We haven’t got all night.” Despite her impatience, throwing caution to the wind didn’t mean she didn’t remain partially aware that their situation wasn’t exactly private. What if someone noticed they hadn’t checked in? What if she’d miscalculated about the camera? What if it panned wider than expected? Oh god, someone could be watching them at this very moment. “Stu!” It wasn’t begging, not entirely, more of a command to stop staring and screw her.

Aroused beyond belief, she came a little when his hard cock finally probed her wet slit, a spasm of muscle that had her scraping her nails against the wall. He eased into her with an aching slowness that almost made her scream. Bit by bit, he stretched her, filled her, drove her insane.

Her pussy clenched tight, and he gasped. “Oh fuck.”

Oh fuck was right. She couldn’t help but shudder around his dick, squeeze him tight with her channel, which resulted in him swelling. His increased size pushed at her, and his fingers dug into the bare flesh of her hips. Back she pushed against him, wiggling and silently demanding he give her more. His grip tightened. He thrust in farther, seating himself to the hilt, and now it was her turn to release a breath.

All hesitation left him as he pulled back and slammed back in.

“That’s it.” She panted, trying to regain control of the situation. “Give it to me hard.”

He practically lifted her right off her feet so hard did he thrust. She grunted, and he paused.