man who stood in front of her. She rose on her toes and kissed his suntanned cheek, drawing in his scent again just to be sure. Definitely no springtime, definitely no hint of death, and definitely safe to play with.
But safe wasn't what her hormones wanted, apparently.
Drink in hand, she made her way back to the restroom.
This time it was occupied, so she had to wait several minutes before it was secure enough to get in contact with Jack.
'It's not Harrison,' she said, when she could.
'You sure?'
'Yes. Death is not a smell you can easily hide, and our murderer was entrenched in it.' So entrenched, she suspected it was the evil in his soul she was sensing more than his actual scent.
'Which leaves us with Stockard and Gantry. If either of them aren't the killer, we're in the shit.'
'Was this the only bar all five women attended?'
'Afraid so. And the only men all five saw are our three current suspects.'
'Grey said he's only been here for a week.'
'Grey lied.'
'But why lie over something as simple as that?'
'Darlin, if I knew that, I could probably tell you whether he was our murderer or not.'
She frowned. Somehow, she suspected the reasons for Grey's lies were a whole lot more complicated than either Jack or she suspected. 'Have you been able to confirm whether they saw any of these men outside the bar's limits?'
'Afraid not. He's picking loners, and even though three of the five lived in apartment complexes, none of the neighbors heard or saw anything.'
Nothing unusual in that. The head-down-see-nothing attitude seemed to have pervaded society ages ago. 'And security cameras?'
'You've read the reports. Most of the complexes were old and didn't have cameras installed in the foyers.'
Which was a required feature in all new apartment buildings. Even some of the older buildings were installing them for security purposes—hers had, and she knew many of her neighbors felt safer for it.
'Has Gantry come into the pub yet?'
'No.'
'Then what do you want me to do?' Even as she asked the question, part of her was willing him to give the right answer.
'You up to spending more time with Grey?'
She was up, down, and sideways for it. Hell, she was practically combusting at the thought. 'You do know I'm a shifter, right?'
She could almost hear the gears in his mind turning, wondering where the hell she was leading with a comment like that. Eventually, he said, voice a little wary, 'Yeah. So?'
'So, I haven't had sex in six months.'
He burst out laughing. 'Damn it, woman, that's an ache I would willingly have eased.'
'Intercourse between departmental employees is not currently approved.'
'Darlin', for you I'd break the rules.'
She grinned. 'I thought you loved your job.'
'I do. But you're not the only one who's suffering a drought.'
'Well, if you stopped listening in on everyone else having sex and started following up some of the offers you get, you wouldn't be suffering a drought.'
'But that would mean making an effort. I'm not sure I'm ready for that.'
'Then continue to suffer the drought,' she said dryly, 'because this shifter isn't offering relief.'
'Well, damn.'
She smiled. 'Where's Grey?'
He paused. 'Coming out of room three-o-five and heading toward the stairs.'
'Looking for me.'
'Most likely.' Jack hesitated. 'You really don't have to take this any further.'
'But if I don't, we may never get any leads on this killer.'
'Yeah, but still—' 'Jack, I'm safe in the club, and I'm more than capable of protecting myself outside it. I want this killer stopped as much as the rest of you.'
'But bedding suspects goes way beyond the call of duty.'
'Not for a shifter,' she said dryly. Hell, a shifter in a rutting haze would shag anything with two legs and a dick.
Not that she was anywhere near as desperate as that, but given the way her hormones had latched onto Grey, she'd been a lot closer to the mark than she'd thought.
'Shifters have a whole different set of morals when it comes to sex,' she continued. Humans might have finally caught on to the 'promiscuity is good' attitude, but shifters had been there forever. 'That's part of the reason I was picked, wasn't it?'
'Well, that and the fact you resemble the other victims.'
'So quit worrying about me, and just start worrying about where you're going to fire those frustrated little sperms of yours when you're listening to me having the best sex of my life.'
She cut off the sound of his choked laughter and left the restroom. Grey was making a beeline across the dance floor, heading straight towards her.
How had he known she was in the restroom?
He was still a good ten feet away when the force of him hit her, sucking away her breath and leaving her gasping. Her gaze rose to his. The gray depths smoldered with both desire and annoyance, and his passionate mouth was little more than a thin line. Trouble, with a capital T, headed her way.
And she couldn't wait for it to explode all over her. Or in her, as the case may be.
He stopped so close that all she could smell was heat and lust and man. Her breast brushed against the soft wool of his sweater, sending little tingles of electricity shooting across her body. God, she was puddling with desire for the man, and he hadn't done anything except glare down at her.
What the hell was going on between them? They were complete and utter strangers who'd shared a brief but amazing encounter. Yes, some sort of connection was logical, but this went beyond the usual sexual vibe of shifters. And it was far stronger than anything she'd felt in her life so far.
'I told you I'd come get you if you didn't follow me.'
His voice was a low rumble that echoed across the recesses of her mind. It was as if she were somehow feeling his words in her head as well as actually hearing them. She raised an eyebrow, forcing herself to remain still and calm when all she wanted to do was throw herself into this man's arm and beg him to take her.
'And I told you I'd think about it.'
'I have a room booked.'
'And I have a room full of prospects to explore.'
He considered her for a moment, then his gaze slid down her body, taking in every inch, exploring in a way she wished his hands would explore. By the time he'd finished little beads of sweat dotted her body and her breath was little more than pants of desire.
The man was definitely dynamite.
'Tell you what,' he said, the smile touching his lips both dangerous and confident. 'Give me an hour. If, in that time, I don't manage to give you the best orgasm of your life, you walk free.'
Walking right now might be a problem, let alone after she'd spent an hour in his presence. 'And if you do manage such a feat, what happens?'
His slow grin became full-blown and damn near blew all her circuitry. 'Then you're mine for the entire night.'
She took a deep breath, trying to get some air into lungs that felt as if they were burning. 'And how are we going to judge whether you've been successful or not?'
