Loyal Wolf (17 page)

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Authors: Linda O. Johnston

BOOK: Loyal Wolf
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In less than a heartbeat he had joined her, taken her into his arms.

And lowered his hot, teasing lips to hers.

Chapter 17

B
ad idea. But Jock wasn't about to stop. Not now. Not unless Kathlene pushed him away.

At least for the moment he would revel in the feel of her curvaceous, hot body against his, the taste of sweetness and heat in her mouth.

She apparently had reservations, too, since without backing up she said, “You should go.” But her words didn't match her actions. Not at all. Her lips didn't stop exploring his, nor did her tongue, and her hands roved along his back and down into his jeans, pulling him closer where he grew and ached for her.

“Later,” he said. “But now... Let's go upstairs.” He had been up there while checking to make sure there was no one hiding in her house. Had glanced into her bedroom and sloughed off—sort of—his memories of being in it before with Kathlene.

That had been a few moments ago. And now...

“Okay,” she whispered against him. She moved away and took his hand, leading him toward the stairway before he could scoop her up in his arms and carry her.

That was fine. It seemed more by mutual consent this way rather than some demanding guy dragging her to her room.

And he knew too well that Kathlene preferred to stay in control. Maybe that was one of the things that he liked about her. No matter how frustrating...

She was almost running now, and he smiled as he kept up with her so she wouldn't have to drag him, either, to where he actually wanted to go.

Her stairway was wide, the steps bare and polished wood with a white railing. In only a minute they were upstairs, then a short distance down the hall and into her room.

She flicked on the overhead light, but only for a moment as if to gain perspective of where her bed was: still right in the middle. And then, lights out, they were on top of the fluffy floral-print cover. He didn't wait before pulling Kathlene's shirt over her head, then reaching down to remove her slacks.

Meantime, they nearly formed a knot as she, too, stripped him. Which was fine, but only the tiniest bit unfair since she had seen him nude that night—twice. It was his turn.

When he was finally finished getting her clothes off, he could see her thanks to the dim glow radiating from the hallway. She was beautiful, every bit as lovely as he remembered. He smiled before reaching toward her breasts, beginning to caress them softly, reveling in the feel of how the initial small contact caused her nipples to bud and grow. He had to taste them, and so he did, even as he continued to touch her, to stroke her, to ease his hands downward along her warm, smooth skin until he touched her buttocks, then moved so he could touch her hot, moist core and begin stroking her there.

He loved the sound of her gasp, then followed it with one of his own as she gently grabbed his erection and began pumping it, driving him mad with need of her.

But his mind wasn't completely gone. He stopped long enough to feel around for his pants and reach into a pocket. He pulled out a condom and handed it to her. These days, he planned ahead, just in case....

“Would you care to do the honors?” he said in a tight, raspy voice he barely recognized.

“Yes,” she rasped back, and he all but moaned as she pulled the taut rubber over him.

* * *

Kathlene refused to listen to the chiding voice in her head that still repeated how sorry she would be later. She wouldn't be sorry. No, this man wasn't the right person to form a long-lasting relationship with. One way or another he'd be out of her life soon.

But for now she might as well enjoy his sexy presence.

She cried out as he moved over her, touched her again down there where she was burning with desire, and then plunged his shaft into her. He began to drive into her, in and out, making her feel as if the wholeness of her being was centered on him and what he was doing and how he was making her feel—hot and excited and needy and wanting even more...

Until she screamed out when her orgasm surrounded her, and she heard Jock, too, groan as he apparently also reached his climax.

For a long moment he perched on his arms above her, connecting with her only down below where her thoughts and feelings were entirely centered.

And then he lowered himself gently on top of her, his breathing hard and irregular as hers.

“Wow,” he said softly.

“Yes, wow,” she agreed.

* * *

He hadn't intended to stay the night, but after his earlier shift to ensure Kathlene's safety, followed by his check of her house and, most exhausting and rewarding, their lovemaking, he had fallen asleep beside her on her bed.

She must have moved or made a small sound, since suddenly he was awake. He became aware immediately of where he was. Who he was with.

Why he was there.

He didn't move, not at first. It struck him that being here with Kathlene in her bed, both of them sated with lovemaking, felt right.

Right? Yeah, sure. He remained all too aware that the woman was a peace officer who threw herself into danger without a moment's thought. He still wanted to protect her, whether she wanted it or not—
not
being her usual scenario.

At the moment, they had to maintain a relationship while Ralf and he fulfilled the mission for Alpha Force. But he and his aide would be heading back to Ft. Lukman as soon as they dealt with the presumed anarchists, which he hoped would be soon.

The truth that he enjoyed being here with Kathlene, loved it, in fact, didn't make any difference.

Okay. He realized that, on top of his enjoyment of their incredible physical encounters, he was somehow being swayed by her apparent ability to accept who and what he was...and he actually wasn't sure what she thought about it.

Maybe he'd ask her. Tomorrow.

For now... “Are you awake?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said. “I guess you are, too.”

He heard the smile in her voice—and that was enough.

He reached for her, smiled himself as he felt her warm, naked flesh, and began making love to her once more.

* * *

The next time Kathlene awoke in the middle of the night, she was the one to check on Jock. She woke him, too, but he didn't seem to mind.

Neither did she.

A little later, still lying there, out of breath and definitely happy, she realized she could get used to this kind of impulsive, immediate lovemaking.

She also realized she had better enjoy it while she could.

Tomorrow, who knew what would happen? After all, Jock and his buddy Ralf might be about to become anarchists. If they went deeper undercover in that capacity, they might even have to stay at the old ranch.

Where Kathlene would be absolutely unwelcome, even if she wanted to go there.

Which she didn't, except as an observer.

“You okay?” Jock asked, his voice hoarse. He was lying on his back beside her. She, too, remained on her back. But, heck, she might as well milk this one night for all she could get out of it.

She was too tired, too spent, to make love again—at this moment. But a snuggle wouldn't hurt.

“I'm fine,” she responded, still a bit out of breath. She turned anyway to lie on her side, her arm over his irregularly rising and falling, and utterly warm, chest. He maneuvered his arm around her and she rested her cheek on his shoulder.

She must have fallen asleep, since she jumped sometime later when her cell phone pealed its musical ringtone. She'd left it on the nightstand and immediately turned on her back and reached for it.

The caller ID said that it was Myra Enager.

Kathlene turned and got out of bed. She felt Jock reach for her but needed to take this call.

“Hi, Myra,” she said, then glanced again at the phone screen. It was barely six o'clock in the morning. Myra and she were friends, but this was the first time she'd ever called this early. “Everything okay?”

“I don't know,” Myra said. “I need to talk to you and wanted to see you in person. I'm in my car, just down the block from your place. Could you let me in by the back door? I'll try to avoid being seen.”

“What—?”

“I'll tell you in a minute,” Myra interrupted. “Okay?”

“Of course.”

Kathlene pushed the button to turn off her phone, then glanced back toward the bed.

Jock was sitting up, his back resting on pillows against the headboard. He'd pulled the sheet over him so she wasn't able to see much of his body. She felt a sigh of regret, but it was better that way. “What's going on?” he asked. “Who was that?”

“Myra Enager,” Kathlene responded. “She's here, or will be in a minute. She needs to talk to me.” Her mind somersaulted over whether she should kick Jock out, let him stay somewhere that Myra couldn't see him or let him in on whatever this meeting was about. He'd come to town in an undercover role, so would it be okay for Myra to know he was here now?

Myra had been told that Jock was a longtime friend who was here visiting Kathlene. Maybe she wouldn't be surprised that an old buddy from way back—especially one who looked like Jock—had stayed the night.

But part of the role Jock had undertaken here was to attempt to infiltrate the anarchists. Myra and the
sportsmen
were antagonistic. Maybe he should—

He took the decision away from her. “It'd probably be better if she didn't know I was hanging out here. With my new best friends acting out the way they did against the county commissioners, I'd probably have to snap at her to stay in character and that might mean she won't confide whatever's on her mind to you.” He stared into her eyes from across the room. “Is that okay with you?”

“Definitely.” Kathlene had moved toward her closet where she pulled out a plaid button-down shirt and dark jeans. “But she's coming to the back door, so something must be wrong. I'll let you out the front.”

“No, why don't you make coffee for the two of you and join her in the kitchen? Your living room is fairly close, and I can sneak back in there after you're settled in to hear what she says. Okay?”

Kathlene had a feeling that if she objected he would spout a bunch of reasons why his way was the only way.

But she actually thought he was right. And so she said, “Okay.”

* * *

After they both hurriedly dressed, Jock hid out in the bathroom near the closed door when Kathlene let Myra Enager into the house via her back entrance. Kathlene had already started some coffee brewing, and although it smelled inviting to him he held off sneaking some out, not wanting Myra to suspect there was someone else around.

“What's going on?” he heard Kathlene say. He used his enhanced senses just a little, since she'd raised her voice a bit as if to help him to hear.

Sweet of her, but he didn't need that kind of assistance—which she probably knew. Maybe she was just nervous.

“Something awful.” The other woman's tone was high and shaky.

“Well, here,” Kathlene said soothingly. “Come on into the kitchen. Sit down right here at the table, and I'll get you a cup of coffee. Then you tell me everything.”

There was a little shuffling of feet and chairs and whatever Kathlene put on the table. Jock again inhaled the scent of good, strong coffee, plus some milk that Kathlene must have made available to the other woman.

He cracked the white wooden door open just a little. He didn't need help to hear, but it gave him a bit more freedom to sense what was happening and to determine what, if anything, he should do next.

What he heard Myra tell Kathlene didn't stun him. It didn't even surprise him. In fact, he was even a little pleased to hear it.

What was going on just might bring his mission here to a close very soon.

* * *

Kathlene considered giving her obviously terrified friend a reassuring hug.

But all she did was remain on one of the shallow calico pillows tied to a chair by her oval wooden table and lean forward, her hands around her white coffee mug.

Myra's age-textured hand remained on the handle of her mug, shaking a little. The older woman did not look as seasoned and professional and together as Kathlene was used to seeing the county commission's chairwoman. Instead, her salon-darkened hair was in disarray and the wrinkles on her face appeared deeper, as if she hadn't used whatever age-defying lotions and makeup she usually daubed on before leaving home.

Or maybe it was whatever was on her mind that made her appear ten years older.

“All right,” Myra finally said, looking directly at Kathlene's face with stressed-looking brown eyes. “Here's what's happened. Yesterday, late in the afternoon, a couple of my colleagues on the commission asked for me to call a special session today. A special
public
session, where we'll go over the same issues we've been discussing, but they'll make a couple of additional motions for us to act on.”

“Does that happen often?” Kathlene aimed a sympathetic glance toward her friend. She knew Myra loved being part of the government. Until recently, Kathlene had been interested in what Myra did but hadn't been involved professionally.

Yet she had a feeling that Myra had come here this morning not just because she needed a friend, but she also needed someone in law enforcement to hear what she had to say.

Would anything they discussed help to further Jock's investigation?

It might, so she kept her voice raised a bit to make sure he could hear—not that she doubted he could.

“Not really,” Myra answered. “There have been some other local issues where the commission's factions were at loggerheads, but voting always seemed to resolve them.” Myra shook her head, and her lips narrowed even further. “Not this time.”

“When is your meeting, then?” Kathlene asked. This was her day off. She could possibly attend but she couldn't go there in any official capacity. Just as well. The sheriff had already made it clear that all gun control and wildlife-preservation issues around there were a whole lot less important than hunting abilities. He was hardly likely to send anyone off duty there, on overtime, to look official and stave off any physical altercations potentially resulting from the commission's consideration of preservation issues, even if they followed the state's latest guidelines.

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