Stumbling out onto the rocky shoreline I look around for the cat. Or the woman, whichever appears first I guess, but come up empty. There is nothing to break the eerie stillness that hovers over the lake. The water is still and dark, like smoked glass, and in the late-night chill, tiny curls of fog sweep across the mirror smooth surface of the lake. Taking several deep breaths, I attempt to regain a hold on my wits. Yes, I have been obsessing over this case for a year, but that doesn’t explain my ridiculous behavior from the moment that woman stepped out of that damn pole barn.
The soft scraping sound of rocks being displaced behind me draws my attention and I turn, finding the woman standing between me and the tree line. Naked. Stunned stupid, I only manage to stand there frozen for a long moment as my mind attempts to catch up and process what the fuck is going on.
The woman is standing, hands braced on her slim hips, as she stares down at me, unaffected by her current state of undress. She’s tall and lean, not thin, but strong. All lithe, firm muscle and gentle feminine curves. It takes every ounce of strength in me to keep my eyes in the “non-creeper zone”, determined to maintain at least some level of gentlemen status by not flat out ogling her.
“Looked your fill yet?” The woman’s rich voice echoes through the stillness, calling me out.
“I… uh… I mean…” I stammer, my brain still occupied on not staring at her tits.
“Wow, an eloquent one aren’t ‘cha?” she asks, annoyance clear in her tone.
“I…” Why the fuck isn’t my brain working?! It’s like I’ve lost the ability to verbally communicate and the only conscious thought I’m capable of is a nearly overwhelming desire to see how perfect those teardrop shape breasts feel in my hands, and if her perky little nipples taste as good as they look.
Fuck. So much for not being a creeper. Goddamnit, I’m not some horn ball teenager, I have never had a problem controlling myself around women. So why the fuck is this one making me act like a thirteen-year-old pimple-faced loser who’s never seen a naked lady before. The sight of her naked body glowing in the moonlight, and the sound of her voice washing over me has my dick painfully hard inside my jeans, and my fingers itching to drag her against me.
The woman continues to stare at me as I fight to form any intelligible sound or, fuck, even a wave. When I still can’t manage anything more than staring with my jaw on the ground after a long minute, she rolls her eyes with a dramatic groan and stalks away into the trees, disappearing once again like shadows in the snow.
Oh sure, now I can move. Of course. Seeing her disappear into the trees again makes my heart clench painfully in my chest and my legs propel me forward of their own volition. I’m desperate to follow her. A voice in the back of my mind tries to reason that I’m only following her because she is the first lead I’ve had on my thief in the year I have been tracking these cases, but I know that’s a crock of shit. This woman draws me to her like no one I have ever encountered before. I can’t explain it, but it’s like my next breath depends on following her, my heart will only beat if I find her. It’s so much more, this all-consuming need to not just find her but to just be close to her. My fingers itch to untie the thick blonde braid and sink into the silky fall of her hair, my arms tingle at the thought of wrapping her up in them. And other… parts… ache to be close to her as well. Fuck me, what the ever-loving shit is happening to me?
259
Ava
I wish I spoke more languages. My mother always encouraged us to learn something other than English, but it never took. I never saw the point while I was growing up. Now, however, I absolutely see the benefit. There are not enough curse words in the English language to express the level of fucked-up-etude that is this situation. I need at least four more languages worth of swear words to even scratch the surface of how I feel right now.
Fated. Mates.
Fuck wank bugger shitting ass head and hole.
There is no way, no way in fuck that this can be happening to me right now. Absolutely not. I refuse. The Sheriff? Really?! He’s human for Christ’s sake! He may be in jeans that sit low on his narrow hips and cling to his ass in just the right way, and a Henley that looks damn near painted on to the point I could make out his deliciously defined pecs and I’m pretty sure I could see a six pack hiding under there too… wait, where was I going with this? Doesn’t matter. The point is, no.
But Ava, you ask, how do you know he’s your fated? The second I got a whiff of his scent, my body knew and seeing him standing there by the lake only confirmed it. It’s just… a sixth sense or something, instinct. I just know. And I don’t want it.
My damn cat is howling at me as I turn away from him and try to disappear into the trees again, needing to get away. She claws at my control and I have to fight to keep from turning around and shifting. I know if I did that the bitch
