Free Memphis Heat 1 Stakeout by Marteeka Karland and Shelby Morgen Page B

Now… now he was something more. Not a man. Not a wolf. He stood upright on two legs, his cock swollen and aching, reaching for Belle’s cunt. But he had fur. And a… a muzzle. And weird-ass ears, like a friggin bat.
    And Belle… Belle was raging at him, and his brain was so abuzz he could barely make out her words. “… when you were shot? And you never told me? You don’t think something like that’s -- oh -- just a little important? Something maybe your partner ought to know? Three months. Three fucking months… make that non -fucking months.”
    His vision seemed to tunnel, to focus entirely on Belle. The roar in his head became worse, finally drowning out her words. All he could think about was her. Belle. He needed her like he needed air to breathe, only worse. White-hot lightning sizzled through him, threatening to burn him alive from the inside out if he didn’t get a handle on whatever was happening to him.
    His cock seemed to have a life of its own, jumping and throbbing in time to his heartbeat. The scent of her arousal was a tangy, citrusy spice clinging to his skin… err… fur… so that he’d never be rid of it. Not that he wanted to. In fact, he wanted to bury his nose in that creamy cunt and breathe her into his lungs so he’d always be able to find her, no matter how far she ran from him.
    Madness. This was total madness. She would run. She had to. He was a monster, an abomination. Proof God had given up on the world. He couldn’t hold her forever. He couldn’t even hold her for now. But he knew he wasn’t man enough to give her up, no matter how much he needed to, not even for her own sake. Something inside him refused to even consider the thought. He’d needed her before he’d been bitten, but this… this attraction, this need to possess her, wasn’t natural.
    But what if …
    He didn’t want to even think the words, but now he had no choice. What if even this limited contact, the few stolen moments when he’d buried his cock balls-deep in her cunt, before he’d managed to pull away, what if … What if he’d turned her, if he’d ruined her life the way that bastard had ruined his before Jarod had shot him dead…
    Then he’d have a partner. A real partner.
    Selfish bastard !
    He should have eaten a bullet the moment he knew what he’d become. Werewolves couldn’t be allowed to roam the city, infecting others with their foul disease. Condition. Whatever the fuck it was. He’d known then what he needed to do. But he couldn’t do it. Not till he made sure there weren’t any more. Not until he was sure they wouldn’t come after his partner. He had to protect Belle. Even if that meant protecting her from himself.
    “Ouch!” The sting of Belle’s slap pulled him out of his internal argument.
    “So you can speak. Are you listening to me? Have you heard anything I’ve said? What the fuck were you thinking, trying to hide a thing like this from me!”
    His cock ached for her with a madness that threatened to break him. “No choice. Can’t -- no control. Might hurt you.” His voice was gruff, husky, nearly more growl than human. “Besides. You’d have locked me up.”
    She barked a short laugh that sounded more than a little desperate. “I still might.”
    They stood there, staring at one another, the stakeout all but forgotten. Finally, Belle moved. She planted her hands on his chest and shoved him back onto the ancient excuse for a bed. “You’re bigger than I remembered.” She licked her lips. “Everything still work the same?”
    She couldn’t… Not even Belle… But she was reaching for his wallet, for the condom he’d always kept there for emergencies. He swallowed hard. “No idea.”
    The thin latex stretched in protest, but it didn’t break. “Then I guess we’re going to find out.” She snapped her cuffs around his thick wrist, passing them around the bedpost, then held out her hand for the other arm. “Just the way we’ve always done things.