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  Feral Lovers

  Lee Mae & A. Hunter

  Copyright ©2017 Lee Mae

  Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this ebook are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  1

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  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

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  38

  1

  “You know, I really don’t do this.” Serena tore herself away from their kiss, breathless, heart pounding, every nerve in her body alive and on fire as his skillful hands moved across her body.

  “Don’t do what?” He growled, nuzzling her neck, hands sliding up to gently caress her breasts.

  “Have one night stands with strangers.” She gasped as he palmed her sensitive nipples, arching herself against his hands.

  “Who says this is a one night stand?” He lifted his head and his eyes met hers, heavy-lidded, his full lips curved into a seductive smile. Serena drew a breath and pulled him down to her into a heated kiss.

  They’d met at Andy’s, the only bar in town. Serena certainly hadn’t been looking to hook up with him, or with any guy for that matter. It was Friday, the start of a glorious weekend off from work, and all she’d wanted was a quiet beer, one of Andy’s to-die-for burgers, and maybe to have a conversation with someone that didn’t revolve around her job.

  He came in after she did and sat down next to her. She nodded at his polite greeting and then he’d turned away, watching the football game on the television mounted above the bar. She’d never seen him before, and in this little town, she sure as hell would have noticed someone as ruggedly handsome as him.

  In the subdued light, she studied his profile: straight nose, high forehead, nice mouth. Even when he was relaxed, it was curved into a slight smile. His hair was messed up from the winter wind outside, darker brown near the back, the lighter strands in the front probably leftover summer highlights. She could imagine him, tanned and shirtless, mountain biking or perhaps hiking. She sighed, pushed aside that silly daydream, turned her attention back to her burger, and ate in a blissful haze for several minutes.

  “That looks amazing.”

  She turned, with a mouthful of food, to find him watching her. He pointed to the half-eaten burger she held in her hands.

  Serena nodded and he waited while she finished chewing. “It is. Andy’s a pretty good cook when it comes to burgers. Ask for one with everything, including the sauce. The sauce is the key; without that, it’s just a good burger. With it, it’s heaven on a bun.”

  The guy flashed her a killer smile that she knew she’d never forget and she found herself smiling back. She couldn’t help herself. She noticed his eyes. She’d seen many blue eyes over the years, but these drew her in. They were such a clear blue they looked bottomless, like the summer sky reflected on still water. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled. She liked that – liked it a lot, actually.

  “I’m Serena Daniels.” She held out her hand. He took it, holding it firmly for a moment rather than shaking it quickly. A minor tremor raced through her and she drew in a deep breath, feeling her pulse quicken.

  “Brody Sullivan.” He released her hand, his smile deepening.

  She exhaled a nervous laugh. “It’s really nice to meet you, Brody.”

  And so, they talked. Serena relaxed, laughing more than she had in a long time. Slowly the conversation subtly shifted to flirting—serious flirting—and then to Serena asking him to come home with her. Maybe her original intent was just to continue talking, to get to know him better, but it really didn’t matter; they both knew where this night was headed.

  Once inside her house, things escalated pretty quickly, Brody taking control and Serena letting him. The energy between them was charged with breathtaking passion, and she felt herself get lost, immersed in the desperate need to belong to him if only for the night, to let him take her wherever he desired.

  They’d started out on the sofa in her living room, hands exploring, touching, clothes coming off slowly at first, then with wild and reckless abandon. She’d found herself distracted by the downstairs windows, which did not have curtains to block the view from curious neighbors. And distracted was the last thing Serena wanted to be, not while wrapped in the muscled arms of such a gorgeous, fiery man.

  Finally, she’d just grabbed his hand, both of them laughing as she pulled him up from the couch and up the stairs to her bedroom.

  The only light came from the moon and the faint glow from the lone streetlight at the corner, casting everything in shades of blue and gray. They stood beside her bed, bodies pressed together, locked in a deep kiss. She suddenly felt anxious, a mix of curious desire and frenzied desperation fusing together, an overpowering grip on her heart that she didn’t quite understand. He lowered his mouth to her shoulder, his soft lips tracing the curve, dipping into the sensitive spot on her neck.

  “I don’t do one night stands either.” Brody’s voice was now muffled against her heated skin, his fingers woven through her hair. He suddenly straightened, his blue gaze searching her face in the soft, cool light. He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear, his eyes never moving from her.

  “I’m not married, if that’s your worry. But…it’s…a bit complicated. I’ll tell you the story…later…after…” His words were lost against her lips and she gave herself up to him, letting him do with her as he pleased, his soft kiss replaced by the desperate need to possess. His story could wait.

  2

  Serena had no idea what time it was other than it was very late. She quietly climbed out of bed, avoiding the floorboard in the hall that squeaked. Brody was asleep in her bed, and she watched him for a minute in the moonlight, wondering what the hell she’d just done, what she had gotten herself into.

  What she’d just done was bring home a stranger, taken him to bed with barely a second thought, something she’d never done before. She thought she should be panicked, trying to get him out of her house as quickly as possible. Maybe feel ashamed of herself, or at the very least embarrassed, wanting to put it behind her.

  But somehow this – Brody Sullivan – was different. It seemed right on all levels. No panic at all, just the sated feeling after a night of great sex. More than just great sex, it was unforgettable sex; a connection with a guy that went wel
l beyond just the physical. It was such an overwhelmingly foreign feeling, but a good one, and she fervently hoped he felt it as well.

  In the bathroom, she ran the tap and looked at her face in the mirror while she waited for the water to get cold. Somehow, she thought she should look different, although she wasn’t sure how. Sex with a guy wasn’t supposed to make your eyes change color or your straight hair curly. Her eyes were still brown, her hair still long and straight, albeit a tangled mess. Other than the goofy grin she was wearing, she looked just the same.

  She filled her glass, taking a long drink of the icy water. The glass clinked against the porcelain as she set it down. The tile floor was cold and she shivered, anticipating crawling beneath the covers, Brody warm in her bed. She hurried back down the hall to her room.

  She paused before she passed her bedroom window. The moon was still high, casting a silver light over the landscape, reflecting off the snow. It was bright enough for her to see out across the lake. As she turned, movement caught her eye. She stepped closer to the glass, looking out over the lake.

  On the ice, walking parallel to the shore, was a lone wolf. Serena had never seen one in the wild and she was amazed at just how incredibly large it was. As she watched, eyes unable to move away, the wolf followed the shore for a distance before turning, breaking into a lope, heading north across the center of the lake. It was clearly outlined against the bright white snow. Within seconds though, it was gone, its long legs carrying it out of sight. Goose bumps covered her arms and she shivered, hugging herself, before turning back to her warm bed and the gorgeous man who slept there.

  3

  Detective Serena Daniels stepped out onto the ice of Lake Monona, gloved hands jammed into the pockets of her thermo-fleece jacket, knit hat pulled low. The thin layer of snow over the ice crunched beneath her boots and the sound sent a shiver through her. There was a body on the lake and from the description of the scene, it probably wasn’t going to be an ice fisherman who’d had a heart attack and died of hypothermia. It was a brutal way to kick off a Monday morning.

  Serena knew this was her case, that she’d be lead, and she took a deep breath, the cold air filling her lungs. Being a detective was still new, the responsibility of being in charge causing a twinge in the pit of her stomach. But this was what she wanted, and she knew she had whatever it took to be a good detective.

  She straightened her stance and picked up the pace as she walked toward the small group of police officers clustered around a shadowed form that lay still on the snow. Even from here, she could see the vivid scarlet of frozen blood splashed in an irregular shape around the body. She tugged the collar of her jacket higher and trudged on.

  “What’ve we got?” She glanced around the group and nodded a greeting. The two uniformed officers nodded back before one looked down and away. The other one stared at her, either in defiance or confusion; Serena couldn’t really tell. His face looked frostbitten so he might have just lost the ability to look anything but confused or scornful. She was used to both looks since she had made detective.

  Her partner of six months, Detective Mike Sparks, flipped open his notepad with a great deal of difficulty. He was wearing thick bulky mittens and the little white pad looked ridiculously small in his large hands.

  “Animal Control got a call from a runner in Law Park right around dawn. Guy thought he saw a dead deer on the lake. AC sent out a unit to investigate.” Sparks paused, eyeing Serena over the edge of the note pad.

  “The guy from Animal Control vomited…there.” Sparks pointed dramatically to the snow with a barely concealed look of disgust. Serena glanced down at the mess, grimaced, and waved her hand.

  “Go on. What else?”

  “The AC guy called it in and these guys were first on the scene.” Sparks nodded toward the two uniforms. “They secured it.” Yellow tape fluttered in the chill wind, the yellow bright against the snow.

  “Has CSU been here? And the medical examiner? When’s he arriving?”

  “Crime Scene Unit was here. You just missed them. They documented everything, took photos. ME was here too. He said…ah …” Sparks flipped awkwardly through his pad. “…um…preliminary cause of death was massive blood loss from injuries sustained, ah…pretty much everywhere. But he probably bled out from the neck wound.”

  As if on cue, all three men turned to look down at the body. Serena looked down as well, her brows drawing together.

  The body was naked, a male, lying on his back in the thin crust of snow. One arm was raised, frozen in place, as if summoning someone unseen. The throat was gone, torn away, the ragged edges of the wound frozen in place. The chest and abdomen were also torn open, organs and viscera clearly visible. She didn’t blame the Animal Control guy for losing his morning coffee and doughnut.

  Serena squatted down, looking more closely. She could see arcs of arterial spray radiating out from the body, then diminishing before being lost in the frozen pool of blood beneath the man. He’d been alive when he was attacked.

  “Anything else? Footprints? Weapon?” Serena rose, eyes traveling across the frozen surface of the lake. The wind picked up and it stung her cheeks, making her eyes water. Small drifts of snow were forming against the body, beginning to fill in the tracks she saw in the snow.

  “No weapon. Lots of different tracks. Birds…crows. They’d already started in on the body; that’s what caught the attention of the guy running. Lots of boot tracks, mostly old though, from ice fishermen probably. Nothing that looks fresh.” Mike hesitated, glancing at his notes. “Oh. And a dog.”

  “Dog? Where?”

  Mike gestured and Serena walked to where he was pointing. He followed, huddled in his parka, his broad back to the wind.

  “Just one set, coming from the south and then heading back the same way.”

  Serena scanned the horizon, turning in a circle. They were within twenty yards of the north shore of the lake, the wedding cake tiers of the Terrace to the northeast stained pink in the morning sun. Cars were backed up along John Nolan Drive, in part due to morning traffic, but also because of a heavy contingent of rubberneckers trying to get a glimpse of what the Madison Metro Police Department could possibly be doing on Lake Monona so early on a frigid Monday morning.

  She turned to the south. From here, the distant shoreline looked like a mass of leafless gray trees, but she knew it sheltered some upscale homes, all perched on narrow lots, all with lakefront access.

  “How far is it down to Monona from here?” She shaded her eyes against the morning sun, squinting into the distance.

  “Straight line? Little more than a mile, I’d guess. A bit more down to Squaw Bay. Beyond that’s Mud Lake, Waubesa, and then Shadow Falls. Can’t tell you how far that is without a map.”

  “And no other tracks from here to Law Park?”

  Mike shook his head. “Nah. The ice fishermen all come from down by the bridge from the south, then walk up. Not many come through the park.”

  Serena walked a few paces south, her eyes on the trail of paw prints in the snow. The tracks seemed huge, but they were being slowly being distorted by the wind, the depressions filling in with snow. She remembered the wolf she’d seen on the lake, ghostly in the moonlight, its powerfully large frame wreathed in shadow.

  She walked back to Mike. “CSU get pictures of these?”

  “Yeah. And the crow tracks.” Mike followed her movements as she circled back to the body, his breath visible in the morning chill.

  “Okay. We got the name of the guy who called it in? And the Animal Control guy?”

  “Yeah. Both.”

  “Okay, good.” Serena turned to the two officers. “You two wait for the morgue van. And keep them at bay.”

  She pointed toward the shore. Two large news vans were parked in the narrow strip of land between the lake and the street, crews milling about, cameras ready. The officers looked at each other and some silent communication passed between them. The one with the frozen face began the long wa
lk toward the vans, eliciting a flurry of activity from the news crews. The second uniform took a stance that spoke as much of resolutely doing his job as it did the resigned knowledge that he was going to be stuck here in the cold for the foreseeable future.

  “Serena, you want to head in? I’m about as frozen as our victim here.”

  Mike stamped his feet, encased in huge insulated boots. She motioned him to follow her and started back to where she’d parked her car close to his truck. She heard him heave an audible sigh of relief.

  “Mike, how long have you been in Wisconsin?”

  “This will be my third winter.”

  “And that thin Kentucky blood of yours still hasn’t gotten used to this?” She grinned at Mike, watching him walk gingerly across the snow-covered ice as if it was going to give way beneath him at any moment.

  “No, ma’am. I’m miserable from October through April and then happy for about a month in the summer.” His voice was muffled by the hood of his parka.

  They walked in silence back to their vehicles. Serena glanced at the news crews, now fully engaged with the officer who’d walked over to meet them.

  “Mike, send someone out later to follow that dog track south, see where it goes, okay? I’ll meet you back at the precinct.”

  She heard a reply that sounded like an affirmative and climbed into her car, letting it run for a few minutes, waiting for the heat to kick in. Even though she’d grown up in Wisconsin, her feet still got cold no matter what type of high tech socks or boots she wore. But it would be a cold day in either hell or Wisconsin before she’d admit that to Mike.

  4

  Mike drove away and she watched the taillights of his truck blend with the traffic. She could do worse than Mike Sparks for a partner, much worse. He’d accepted her as an equal from the start and despite the peculiarities of his Kentucky speech and his abiding hatred of the bitter Wisconsin winters, she thought he was a really good guy.