SavageLust (14 page)

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Authors: Desiree Holt

Lifting one of her legs, he draped it over his shoulder,
giving himself complete access. Rimming her opening with his tongue, he drank
her juices before sliding one finger into her. Immediately her internal muscles
clutched at him and her hips glided back and forth. He added another finger.
Then a third. Pulling her clit into his mouth again, he sucked hard as he
thrust his fingers in and out in a fast glide. Curling them to drag against her
slick flesh, loving the feel of her. Her hips rocked as she rode his hand and
little cries burst from her, making him even more aroused than he had been.

She came without warning, her body stiffening, her juices
pouring into his hand while the walls of her cunt clenched over and over. Her
nails dug into his shoulders, her hips thrust forward as she drove herself down
onto his fingers, her body shuddering.

At last the tension eased, her muscles softened and he slid
his hand free. Looking up into her eyes, he carefully licked her juice from
each finger. Her eyes were slumberous, heavy-lidded with satisfaction, yet the
heat of arousal still danced in them. Her irises had deepened from emerald to
forest green and her cheeks held a hot blush.

Regan drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank
you,” she whispered. Then she dropped down in front of him. “My turn.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Hold that thought.” He rose lithely to his feet, shucked
his shoes and the rest of his clothes, and rummaged in a nightstand drawer for
the condoms that he knew were stashed there. He didn’t know who was responsible
for the sexual wellbeing of the team and, up until now, he hadn’t cared. Right
at this moment, though, he was ready to send them thanks and blessings, because
he hadn’t needed or bought condoms in a long time.

When he turned, Regan had risen from the floor and was
standing beside him.

“You.” She pushed against his chest. “There.” She pointed.
“On the bed. Now.”

He might have laughed at her bossiness but he was so turned
on he could barely scrape a thought together. Instead he fell back on the bed,
his pulse racing as Regan climbed up and knelt between his thighs. He hoped she
didn’t plan to play a lot because he wasn’t sure how long his control would
hold out.

But the moment she reached between his thighs to cup his
balls and drew her tongue the length of his cock, he wanted to figure out how
to let her do that for a very long time.

Her fingers were gentle, her tongue like a swipe of velvet.
She licked slowly, root to tip and back again. Shivers raced over his skin at
her touch. She took the head into her mouth so she could circle her tongue over
the sensitive skin. Prod the slit at the tip. Suck the pre-cum deep into her
throat.

Regan took her time and when he looked at her through
slitted eyes, the pleasure on her face nearly undid him. So many years had
passed since a woman had pleasured him. Since he’d
wanted
a woman to
pleasure him. He was torn between hoping it continued forever and praying he
reached that pinnacle she was driving him toward so skillfully with her hands
and mouth.

One hand still continued to cup and fondle his sac while the
fingers of the other now curled gently around his shaft, sliding up and down
with the same tempo as her mouth. When her head dipped lower and her mouth
engulfed his entire cock, the head of it bumping the back of her throat, he had
to fist the covers hard to keep himself from exploding. The temptation was so
great he wanted to just sink into it. But the memory of her pussy, so tight
around him, overrode everything else.

Sliding his hands into her hair, he lifted her head, forcing
it up. Her deep-green eyes held a puzzled look.

“What…?”

“Inside you.” He was desperate now. “I want to come inside
you.”

He reached over to the nightstand for one of the condoms he’d
dropped there, his hands shaking as he tore open the foil.

“Let me.”

Regan’s smile was both sultry and self-satisfied as she took
the condom from his hand and rolled it over his throbbing dick so slowly, he
was afraid he’d come before she finished. But then he was ready—oh yeah, he was
more than ready—and he helped her position herself above him until the head of
his cock nudged her opening. With one swift movement, he pulled her down upon
him, groaning as he filled her completely.

Her tight, wet walls gripped him like a vise and her beautiful
breasts were right there in his face. He couldn’t resist taking a moment to
suck both nipples, dragging his teeth over the tight buds before setting up a
hard, heavy rhythm for their bodies.

He was so close to the edge. He tried to hold back for her,
thinking that with her recent orgasm she might need a little more time. But she
was right there with him—hot and ready, her body sending him signals. Passion
heated her cheeks and her eyes softened and glazed. He drove up deep inside her
one last time, thrusting hard, feeling her body tighten with the need to
climax.

And he let go.

When the explosion came he was afraid the top of his head
would blow off. He lost all sense of self, focused only on the spasms shaking
them both, the rapid beating of his heart, the sensation of falling through
space without a safety net as he came and came and came.

When the last spasm had subsided, Regan fell forward,
draping herself across his chest like a blanket. Her tousled hair was soft
against his skin, her flesh warm and satisfying. He thought maybe he could stay
this way forever.

And he realized that after all this time, he was finally
creeping out of his self-imposed prison and learning to feel again.

Chapter Eight

 

Brad DeWitt was sitting in his desk chair, turned sideways
and staring out the window, a strange look in his eyes, when Garth knocked on
the doorframe. The chief turned back to face him and the lines of strain and
tension on his face were all too obvious. He motioned Garth forward.

“Come in, come in. And close the door.”

Garth had sent everything he’d found on his computer to his
Evernote program on his tablet before leaving his office, so he’d have it all
handy. He wasn’t sure exactly how his boss would take what he had to say and he
wanted to be as prepared as possible. He lowered himself into one of the chairs
facing the desk and wondered exactly how to begin here. How to open the
subject.

He cleared his throat. “I’ve, uh, been doing a little
research on my own, Chief, and I found some things I’d like to run by you.
Although you might find some of it a little bizarre.”

“Bizarre?” Brad’s voice had an odd tone to it. “Funny you
should use that word. Before we get into whatever’s on your mind, I just had a
conversation with the governor’s friend, Craig Stafford. The guy I mentioned
earlier. And bizarre was the same word that came to my mind.”

Garth studied the older man. More than just strain was
etched on his face. What could be going on that was weirder than what he had to
tell him? Deciding to wait and see what his boss had to say about his
conversation with Stafford, he leaned back in the chair and did his best to be
patient.

Brad stared at a point somewhere beyond Garth’s head for a
long moment before he spoke again.

“Craig Stafford is not a man who seeks publicity,” he began,
the tone of his voice still not quite normal. “You seldom read about him in the
newspapers and almost never see him interviewed on television. Which is unusual
for a man who is one of the ten richest in the world.”

Garth merely nodded his head.

Brad gave him a curious stare. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“When you, uh, mentioned him earlier, I decided to see what
I could find out about him. That was one of the facts that popped up.”

“Of course. I should have figured. Your thirst for
information is one of the things that make you such a good Ranger. Anyway.” He
gazed out the window again. “There’s a term in literature and the performing
arts called ‘willing suspension of disbelief’. You know what that means,
Garth?”

“I do. It means you suspend your normal rational thought
process to accept facts or performances that might otherwise not be
believable.”

“Yes. That’s it. Well, that’s what I’m going to ask you to
do. For a few moments, anyway. If you tell me I’m crazy after that, well—we’ll
see.” He turned back to Garth. “You’re Texas born and bred. You must have heard
the legend of the Chupacabra. The so-called goatsucker. Right?”

A knot of anticipation curled in Garth’s stomach. Was that
what his boss had discussed with Stafford? And was Garth right after all? Was
the Chupacabra more than a legend and now killing people in its own horrific
way?

“I have,” he said at last. “A lot of people think it’s more
than just a myth.”

“Apparently Craig Stafford does. And he seems to have proof
to back it up.” He pushed a button on his intercom. “Stella? I wouldn’t
normally ask, but could you possibly get coffee for Garth and me? I think we’ll
need it.”

“Sure, boss,” her voice came back. “Be right there with it.”

“We’ll wait a minute on this,” Brad said.

Acceding to his boss’s wishes, Garth forced himself to wait
patiently until Stella had brought in two mugs and set them on the desk.

“Hold my calls, will you?” Brad asked her. “We’ll be a while
here.”

As soon as the door closed, Brad lifted his mug, took a
healthy swallow of the hot liquid and carefully set the mug back down on his
desk.

“Get out that willing suspension, Garth, because I have a
story to tell you that’s going to require it.”

Garth thought he was prepared for whatever the chief threw
at him, but even
he
was stunned to learn about Night Seekers, about the
money Craig Stafford had put into the effort to find and eliminate the vicious
icon of folklore. The tragedies that each of the team members had suffered. And
beyond that—the new working theory they had. It was a lot to absorb, more than
he’d been prepared for.

“So there it is,” Brad said. “What do you think?”

Garth sipped his coffee, giving himself a moment to digest
everything. Here he’d thought he’d have a hard time persuading the chief to
accept what he’d researched, and the man had thrown him an unexpected curve.

“Okay.” He leaned forward. “First of all, I think if we hook
up with this guy it will get the governor off your back in more ways than one.
He’s already driving you nuts about the effect on tourism because it happened
in such a public place.”

“And a tourist hotspot,” Brad pointed out.

“Right. Anything that affects tourism negatively puts a burr
up everyone’s ass.” He blew out a breath. “I had some stuff noodling around in
the back of my mind, so I was in my office looking up this Stafford guy, and
also doing a major Google search on El Chupacabra. I found a lot but not nearly
as much as you just laid on me. And you’re telling me he has
scientists
working on this? Doing autopsies on the bodies of the beasts his team has
killed?”

The chief nodded. “There’s a breeding farm somewhere, he and
his people are convinced of it. And I have to say, with so many attacks
happening in so many places over a relatively short period of time, I can’t
think of any other explanation. What did you find out?”

Garth took his tablet and pulled up his notes. “Basically
that there is definitely more than one of them. That it began by killing small
animals, nothing larger than a goat, and at some point progressed to killing
people.” He looked across the desk. “I wonder how many of the reports I found
are actually precursors to what Craig Stafford told you? I mean, he’s got eight
people who lost someone to the beast, and that’s in addition to what the
newspapers have reported or what’s been written in science and science fiction
journals. People are going to want to sweep this under the rug, you know that.”

“I do. Nobody wants to give legitimacy to something that
sounds so farfetched.”

“But if he’s right—and I’m not saying just yet that he
is—then we have neither the resources nor the manpower to deal with this.”

“He knows that,” Brad agreed. “He suggested we meet with
members of his team and see if we can develop a working relationship.” He
scraped his hand across his face. “I tell you, Garth, I can’t even believe I’m
saying these things. I like to think I’m a pragmatic person. I’ve learned to
deal with facts and hard evidence.
This
?” He waved his hand in the air.
“If it gets out I’m even
considering
something like this, I’ll be the
laughingstock of the state of Texas. Maybe even lose my job.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Chief.” Garth hitched his
chair a little closer, tapped his tablet and brought up a document. “Here.” He
turned it around so Brad could look at it. “Read this.”

“Ric Garza?” Brad cocked an eyebrow. “Why is that name
familiar?”

“I’m surprised Craig didn’t mention him. Up until two years
ago, he was a Texas Ranger. Attached to Company F in San Antonio. I only knew
him casually but he was considered an excellent Ranger.”

“What did you hear about his reason for leaving?”

“Just that his mother died and he had some problems dealing
with it.”

Brad studied the picture on the tablet screen. “Everyone
Craig chose for this team lost an immediate family member to what he calls the
devil beast. I’m going to make an educated guess that’s how Ric’s mother died.
And if his findings are right, that terminology is very appropriate.”

“Why didn’t Ric contact us?” Garth wondered. “No, strike
that. I’m sure he didn’t think we’d be any more receptive than any of the other
law enforcement agencies they’ve worked with. So what happens next?”

“Stafford asked if I would be willing to assign someone to
liaise with Night Seekers. Share information and take advantage of their
resources.” He studied the younger man. “I wasn’t sure who I’d be able to tap
for that, but if you’re already into this story…”

Garth scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I sure don’t think
anyone else here at headquarters would jump on it. They’d probably write the
whole thing off as insane.” He fiddled with his mug. “But I have a much more
open mind to stuff like this. I don’t think we can afford to ignore anything.
Ever.”

“Okay then.” The chief picked up a slip of paper and handed
it to him. “Here’s the number at their base of operations. A ranch just
northwest of San Antonio. Ask for Ric, since you knew him at least a little
from his Ranger days. Craig said he’d give him a heads up. Call him today. Set
something up.”

“I think it will work better if I go there,” Garth said.
“Let’s keep all of this under the radar until I know if what I suspect is
reality.”

“That’s fine. If you’ve got any open cases, give them to
Stella and I’ll clear them off your assignment sheet.”

Garth rose, drained his coffee and set the mug back down. He
picked up the slip of paper and his tablet. “You know
they
might want to
be able to tap into some of
our
resources too,” he warned.

Brad waved his hand. “Whatever. Just make it work before we
have another killing. Another disaster. And a media explosion.”

* * * * *

The beast had slept throughout the day, tired from assuming
a different shape and racing to get away from the huge, thundering herd that
frightened it. The chip in its brain had sent it toward the isolated big house,
but there were too many of the huge creatures around there. Why didn’t its
brain know that ahead of time?

The huge blazing ball in the sky had beat down mercilessly,
nearly baking the beast. It managed to chase and trap two small animals,
slaking its thirst on the blood and its hunger on the flesh before finding a
cool place to hide.

The small structure standing all alone in the middle of the
vast lands stretching out to the hills called to it. The signal in its brain
beeped at the sight of it. The massive creatures that threatened were far away,
prevented by some kind of fence from getting close. Now if only one of the
two-legged creatures would venture to this spot, the devil beast would be able
to satisfy its need. The craving was building again, burning its brain and its
gut. Soon it would have to find satisfaction.

Meanwhile, it found its way to the ancient trees surrounding
the cabin and into the thick vegetation. In the embrace of overgrown fronds and
leaves, it found a dark place to curl up in its own form and rest.

Tonight. Maybe tonight a target would appear and the devil
beast would be calm again for a while.

* * * * *

Regan was sure when she and Dante walked back into the main
area of the house, everyone would know exactly what they’d been doing, as if
they had signs emblazoned across their foreheads. She wasn’t used to living
with this many people and she certainly wasn’t used to having sex as often as
she and Dante did. Three times in less than two days? She wondered if she
glowed from the aftermath.

They filled mugs from the perpetually brewing coffeemaker
and headed into the war room.

“There you are.” Logan Tanner was just sitting down at the
conference table and waved them over. “We were just about to buzz you on the
house phone. Better come sit down. Ric’s got stuff for us.”

Dante and Regan exchanged a look. “In just the last hour?”
she asked.

“This is unexpected,” Ric called over his shoulder. “I want
to discuss it with everyone at the same time.”

It didn’t take long before the seats were filled. Dakota and
Clint had begged off but the two newest additions, Ben and Randi, slid into two
empty seats, obviously eager to begin making a contribution. Ric finished what
he was doing at his keyboard then rose and joined them at the table.

“We’ve had an unexpected turn of events,” he began.

“Worse than the other things that have happened?” Rebecca
wanted to know.

Ric shook his head. “No, actually, we may have opened a
door. At least partially.”

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Sophia urged. “What’s
happening?”

“You remember that I wanted to contact the Texas Rangers as
soon as the body was found on Wolf Mountain Trail. Especially when we knew we
had a missing person.”

“But they shut us out,” Sam Brody reminded him. “At least
other agencies have grudgingly allowed us a seat at the table if Craig exerts
enough pressure.”

“Then they want to kiss our collective asses,” Sophia added,
“when they realize we know what the hell we’re talking about and they aren’t
equipped to handle it.”

“Well, it seems the Rangers have finally reached that
point.” Ric reached behind him for his tablet and tapped the screen. “Brad
DeWitt, the head of the Rangers, wouldn’t even take Craig’s calls in the
beginning. Until our fearless leader reached out to the governor and exerted
some muscle.”

“So they’ll, what, give us lip service and send us on our
way?” Jonah gave a snort of disgust. “Fuck that. We can’t waste our time.”

Ric held up his hand. “Not finished here. When I was in
Company F in San Antonio, I worked with a guy named Garth Myers. Knew him casually
but he had an excellent reputation.”

“And he’s important why?” Sophia persisted.

“I find this a little odd myself. Coincidental, even. Seems
Myers is part Native American and believes in legends a lot more than the
general population does.”

“The Chupacabra,” Mark guessed.

“Got it in one,” Ric told him. “He saw Reed Fortune’s body
and all those old stories came back to him. He decided to do a little surfing
on the web and guess what he came up with?”

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