Page 18 of Memphis Heat

Chapter Two

“Fuck. I’ve gotta get requalified.”

“What?” Her lips were moving, but all Callahan could hear was the sound of her voice back in Snorrasan’s office. What’s the matter, white boy? You got a problem with black pussy? Baby, I’m just a bitch. A bitch in heat, and you’re looking a lot like lunch these days .

Amanda’s scent clung to him, invaded every pore of his skin. Callahan was tempted to shift, to let his wolf roll in the dirt, scrubbing away at the enticing, erotic pheromones that assaulted his senses, but he knew it was no use. This itch was more than skin deep.

Just keep your private business private until this is cleared up. Try to use a little discretion !

Discretion. That didn’t translate at all. Not when what he wanted more than anything was to rip her clothes off and bury his cock so deep in her tight, hot cunt, he’d never get free. And he knew she’d be tight, and hot, and ready for him. Hell, she was ready for him now. He could smell her.

“Callahan!”

He jumped like she’d slapped him. “What?”

“You coming or not?”

Any minute now . “Ah, sure. Where are we going?”

“Wrong answer, white boy! Pay some fucking attention before I shoot you!”

“Shooting range, right.” Like being alone with her in the confines of the gallery was going to make this so much easier…

“Relax, baby,” she drawled in that thick Southern accent.

“It’s late in the afternoon. Most everyone’s headed home for the day.

We’ll have the place all to ourselves.” She drew out her words, grinning at him like the freaking Cheshire cat, her nails scoring down his chest, scraping him through his T-shirt.

“No one will be here to see how badly you suck at this.” She grabbed his shoulders, turning him in the right direction before slapping him on the ass, her chuckle settling deep in his groin like a hot mouth wrapped around his cock.

Jamie’s eyes crossed at the image of her bent over the gun stand, naked, his cock so fucking hard he was sure he wouldn’t piss straight for a week.

Even the insult did nothing to cool his need.

He was the best marksman on the force, and she damned well knew it.

This was nothing more than a ploy to get him alone.

Pretty damn transparent. How the hell was he supposed to resist that?

With a quiet calm, he forced one foot in front of the other, knowing he was marching to his doom. Rules, Callahan! Follow the fucking rules! Yeah. Right.

“You know, Callahan, I’ve been reading up on pack law. If you don’t shut that damn brain off and claim me before the next FOP gathering, I’m going to have to choose a mate.”

Hell, he’d forgotten about that. Pack law trumped department regulations every time. “Yeah? Got any idea who you’ll choose?”

She shut the heavy-gauge steel door behind them and threw the bolt. “Yeah. I know exactly who I want. And this time you’re not getting away.”

The clanking of the great heavy door sounded like his doom. God, he wanted to forget everything he’d ever held dear on the force and just take her. Show her he was man enough for her.

Her fingers made their way down the buttons of her uniform shirt.

“Unless, of course, you’d rather watch the whole pack take turns with me while I try them all on for size.

” Her voice trailed off as she completely removed her shirt, revealing a lovely view of generous breasts in a black lace bra.

Her nails drew circles around the peaks of her nipples where they pushed against the fabric.

“What do you think, white boy? You wanna watch some other guy fuck me?” She grinned.

“I bet you would. Maybe while his partner buries his dick in my ass. Or maybe three men at the same time… unless there’s some other bitch handy to lick my cunt.

Would that turn you on, Callahan? I bet you’d love to watch while I sucked his cock, too, wouldn’t you? ”

Before she got out another word, Jamie grabbed her shoulders and yanked her to him. “Like fucking hell.” He shifted his claws enough to skim over the lace, leaving a jagged tear where her nipple popped through -- right into his waiting mouth.

He licked first, needing the taste of her to soak his tongue.

Then he bit to punish her for teasing him.

She’d been begging for this, forcing his hand until he simply couldn’t take the torment any longer.

The damned woman only arched against his mouth, offering him more, threading her hands through his short-cropped hair to keep him where she wanted him.

Jamie heard a growl somewhere. His ears rang so much with the pounding blood he couldn’t really tell where it came from at first. Then he realized it was himself.

And he’d done more than shift his claws.

He’d partially shifted into his wolf form in the lustful need surrounding him, taking him over.

Had he waited too long to claim her? Was he going insane?

Because it sure felt like it. There would definitely be no sweet and gentle lovemaking.

He just had to be careful not to hurt her… she’d been hurt enough…

“Yeah, white boy. That’s it, suck me deep,” she urged, grinding her hips against his swollen cock. Hell, she even bit his earlobe, and none too gently at that, her sharp canines all but puncturing the skin.

That was his reminder. She might look sweet and fragile, but she was a werewolf, and every bit the Alpha bitch.

No way she was going to let him play it safe.

Those long, sharp nails that had fascinated him ripped through his T-shirt, and her growl of determination was his only warning before she latched onto his nipple, biting so hard he nearly came right then.

Jamie howled, raising his face to the ceiling and letting loose a long, wailing cry of need and desire.

He was too far gone to say the words, but no other man would ever touch her.

He’d brand her with his cock, his seed, mark her with his scent and his teeth, so no other wolf would dare… he’d kill any bastard who tried.

Mine ! he sang, his voice echoing off the sound-deadening walls. Mine !

The rest of his clothing disappeared as he shifted, full battle form now, half man, half beast, wolf on two legs, more powerful and deadly than any other creature on Earth.

Alpha wolf, claiming his mate. Mine ! He gripped her shoulders with powerful paws, his sharp nails digging into her flesh as he spun her around to face the bench, his cock reaching for her cunt, mindless need overwhelming every other instinct. Mine !

With the precision of instinct honed over millennia, the tip of his cock found her cunt, and he thrust inside, shuddering with need and want and fury at the inescapable trap she’d woven around him. He hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t wanted this at all, not for her, but there was no escape.

“That’s it, baby,” she snarled, her teeth clenched as if she were giving him a dire warning. “Give me that fat dick of yours. Fuck me hard! Don’t stop. Ever!” She threw her head back against his chest and howled, her song an echo of his own.

Mine !

The sounds they made were violent, as was the sex.

He’d been fighting his need for her, their need for each other, for far too long.

Now sexual frustration combined with the driving demand of their species to claim his mate.

Tonight there would be no softly spoken words of love, no gentle caresses.

The sick and twisted part was, Jamie wasn’t certain he didn’t like this better.

This was Amanda, riding him back, her song telling him she enjoyed it too.

Especially since she shifted to her battle form as well.

She dug her claws into the bench as she used it to brace her backward thrusts, sending a shower of splinters across the shattered wooden surface.

She had never been passive about anything as long as he’d known her.

Of course she’d be just as aggressive in this.

His chest swelled along with his cock. This was his woman.

His mate. No other man would dare try to challenge his right to her now.

He bit down on her shoulder, sinking his teeth into the thick hide underneath her shaggy coat.

Even shifting wouldn’t remove his mark. Mine !

The word shimmered in his head, demanding, insistent.

Shimmered until it was a full-on shriek that demanded to be taken seriously.

And he definitely took the word seriously.

This was his bitch. His female. Damn everything to hell and back, he would not give her up!

Every thrust, every hot slap of flesh on flesh, branded their scent on one another.

Every ragged breath drew more of her into his lungs, until they were one, moving together in the timeless rhythm of fulfillment, of claiming, of total possession, until her hot pussy rippled around him, commanding his body to join her as she came, howling out her victory.

And finally he understood that as much as he owned her, she’d taken possession of him as well.

And in that final surrender to the inevitable, he gave her what she demanded, spilling his cum deep within her like liquid fire washing through them.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

He kept pounding into her until the knot rose so hard he could no longer move, tied to her, tied together for as long as their lifetimes would allow.

And even though she wasn’t born a werewolf, he knew the blood that had changed her was strong.

She’d be almost as long lived as a born wolf. And she’d be his.

He would claim her. Next moon, he’d take her in front of the full pack, and make her his by pack law. No one would ever separate them again. Especially not some Russian curs who’d dared to invade his territory.

* * *

Butch Carson ran a hand through his cop-short hair in barely contained frustration.

“All our leads have gone cold. I feel like they’re leading us around by the balls.

While we’re busy staring at fishes scuffed in the dirt, they’re laughing their asses off at us.

They’re always a step ahead. Without Jarod and Belle, we’re back to square one, chasing dust devils across the prairie.

I don’t even know where to look now. They’re just gone. ”

Agent Miller quit pretending to shuffle through his notes and leaned back in his chair, his sigh tired and defeated.

“We know they’re here. Thanks to Jarod and Belle, we know they’re importing Cold War surplus military arms and munitions.

But it’s like this all over the country.

Every major inland port. They’ve spread out to all the international air cargo hubs.

We think they’re bringing in smaller shipments, one or two unit loads.

Breaking it down into acceptable risk. Customs may intercept one or two units now and then, but they’re not going to find them all.

We’re not making a big enough dent in their supply to be much more than an annoyance.

We’re no closer to taking them down than we were a year ago.

We still don’t know why, and that’s what’s getting to me. ”

Snorrasan maintained his usual cool, gratingly collected calm.

“You’re missing the obvious. The only reason for a major central location would be if they were stockpiling weapons.

Forget the fact we’re dealing with werewolves.

Quit thinking like Homeland Security. International terrorist groups aren’t the only ones who’d buy surplus weapons.

Use what we know about the Russian mob. They evolved out of black market traders when it was impossible to buy anything with the ruble.

Maybe they’re bringing in small shipments to locations all across the country because that’s where their buyers are.

That’s what the Russian mob does. They sell.

Anything and everything, to anyone who’s buying.

Drugs, prostitutes, conscripted laborers, weapons…

anything anyone wants. The werewolf bite only adds a new twist to an old game.

Hell, for all we know, they’ve always been werewolves. ”

Miller poked at his notes so hard his pencil snapped, the point flying across the big conference table.

“Christ.” He pulled out a sheet full of addresses, then punched up an address on his laptop.

A large map of the US flooded the main monitor.

Another fast tap and red dots with dates flashed across the screen.

“Activity we’ve attributed to the Russian wolf pack.

” He tapped again and green dots appeared surrounding the red ones.

“Major US gun shows where we’re tracking sales of assault weapons.

” Another tap and he zoomed in on Western Tennessee.

“Christ almighty,” Butch echoed. “What the fuck is that?”

“Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of sales of unregistered weapons,” Miller confirmed. “There’s a gun show within a hundred miles of here almost every week of the year.”

Amanda Black turned to Callahan, held out her hand, and smiled. “Honey, take me shoppin’?” she asked in her thickest Southern drawl.

Callahan snorted. “Darlin’, any time. But how do we know which ones to hit?”

Miller smiled, and the look wasn’t comforting on him.

He hit another link on his laptop and popped up an UFO/alien invader-spotting website.

“My informants say they’ve seen more suspicious trucks around Hendersonville this week.

Listen to this description of the aliens -- seven foot tall, furry, and inhumanly strong…

sounds like a were in battle form to me. ”

Regan snorted. “Lord… honestly? Alien invaders? Where do you get this stuff?”

Miller’s teeth flashed in a hint of a true grin this time. “Didn’t you see Men in Black ?”