Abby loves the thrill of danger that comes from attending masked sex parties, but it’s not long before she finds herself feeling something more than lust for fellow partygoer, Jake Winters. When someone at one of the parties is murdered, and Abby learns that she and Jake were the last two people to be seen with the murder victim, she begins to wonder if Jake could possibly be the murderer.
Abby can't deny her feelings for Jake, and when he shows up at her apartment, Abby doesn't hesitate in letting the potential murderer in. When Jake tells Abby an almost-unbelievable story about werewolves, an old werewolf legend, and how it's all connected to the murder, Abby becomes wary. Can Abby trust Jake, or will her feelings for him only prove to endanger her?
Be Warned: multiple partners, sex toys, f/f interaction.
I was frazzled, beyond frazzled, I felt ready to explode, but one look from Jake seemed to calm me. His deep, coal black eyes seemed to penetrate me, and his perfectly square jaw and dimpled chin that couldn’t have been any better if Michelangelo himself had carved them, took my breath away. Every fiber inside of me seemed to buzz as he ran a hand through his medium length, ruggedly sexy, sandy hair.
“We need to talk,” he said again, doing what I had done just seconds before and glancing around the outside hallway. “Preferably inside. I can’t be seen here.”
Warning bells chimed in my head. He’s wanted for questioning in a murder. Do you really think you should let him in? They seemed to say, but I pushed all warning aside. I had to. I knew better. Besides, I wanted to be near him, I needed to. It was almost as if I was being compelled to let him in. Something inside of me trusted him, believed in him, and something inside of me knew that if he was in some sort of trouble, I’d do anything to help him.
“Well, then, come on in,” I urged and stood off to the side to let him pass.
“Thanks.” He closed the door behind him. “I came to find you as soon as I could.” He scanned the room as if giving it a quick once-over investigation. “You’re in trouble … we need to talk.” He looked toward Lucy. “Privately, if that’s okay.”
“You’re obviously mistaken.” I laughed forcefully, still shaken from the morning’s events. “I can’t possibly be in trouble.” Here I was thinking that I would help him if he was in trouble, and he was telling me that I was in trouble. I shook my head.
“Just take my word for it,” Jake demanded, grabbing my hand and threading my fingers through his. “Come on, we’ll talk in your bedroom.”
With the touch of his hand, intense desire filled me and left me aching for more. All worry from before had dissipated. Even the pain in my shoulder had eased. It was still throbbing, but it was nothing compared to the intense ache that had filled it just moments before. Jake was here now and he would explain the whole big, awful misunderstanding, because that’s just what it had to be. Him being a murderer just wasn’t possible.
“Yeah, sure.” I eyed Lucy, giving her the ‘I’m okay with this’ signal, as I told Jake, “We can go into my bedroom.” My hand still in Jake’s, I trailed behind him into my room.
I closed my bedroom door behind me, feeling a loss, an empty void as Jake released my hand. But when he pulled me into his arms and wrapped them tightly around me, that feeling of loss quickly dissipated. Any lingering tension and pain in my shoulder melted away as I eased my body against his, molding to him like he was meant only for me and me only for him. I knew that he couldn’t have murdered Daisy. He just didn’t have it in him.My gaze met his dangerously dark eyes as I glanced up at him. “What’s going on? I mean, the cops think that you murdered Daisy? Apparently you were even seen arguing with her.”
Ignoring my question, Jake lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. His lips burned against mine sending a shock of power vibrating through me. “God, Abby, I’ve been so worried about you,” he murmured pulling away from me.
“What’s going on, Jake?” I asked again. “You have to tell me.”
Confusion and sadness filled me as I saw a dark shadow cross Jake’s face.
“There is something that I must tell you,” Jake said softly. “Something that, however unbelievable it might sound, I need you to believe. You are in trouble. You have to trust me.”
Instantly, a knot formed in my stomach and my lungs tightened. Suddenly, all of my earlier concern, shoulder pain, and frustration came rushing back. I moved away from Jake, now eager to be away from his touch, and took a seat at the edge of my bed.
“You’ve got to stop saying that,” I replied, watching him as he began pacing. “Why would you think that I’m in trouble?” I asked. “One minute you’re the one that’s in trouble and I’m thinking about how exactly I can help you, and the next thing I know you’re telling me that I’m actually the one in trouble. You’re making no sense, Jake. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Jake moved to the end of the bed and sat beside me, but not touching me, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
“No.” Jake shook his head. He lifted his head to look at me, his eyes searching mine. “I’m not okay because you’re not okay. You are in trouble. I want to help you.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. “What kind of trouble could I possibly be in?” I challenged, staring Jake down.
“Okay, I’m just going to say what I have to say.” Jake ran a hand through his hair. “Do you remember when you got bitten by that animal about three months before leaving Mississippi?”
“Stray dog,” I responded. Instinctively, I began rubbing at my shoulder. The pain shooting through it was starting to escalate. “Sure, it hurt and I had to get a rabies injection, but that’s all there really is to say about it.” I shook my head. “Wait, did I tell you about that?”
“And it wasn’t long after you were bitten that you decided to move to New York was it?” Jake replied, ignoring my previous question.
I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t, but I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything, or why any of this is any of your business.” My frustration level was climbing.
“Look.” Jake sighed. “That wasn’t a dog that bit you that night and, even if you don’t realize it, that bite had a lot to do with you leaving Mississippi. You were looking for something when you came to New York, you just haven’t known what. Something inside of you changed that night, and you began to crave danger, or heightened excitement. Either way, it wasn’t a dog that attacked you.”