Page 7 of Feral Attraction
Getting off the train, they took the steps to Second Avenue.At street level, she pointed east.“Only a couple of minutes.”
She charged off, but he adjusted his backpack and caught up.She definitely wanted to be top dog and first in line for chow.Just what Con loved.A challenge.He was here to help solve a murder.Nothing said he couldn’t get laid, too.
When he grabbed her elbow to steer her around a rough patch in the sidewalk, she shook him off.
“Thanks,” she said, “but I’ve been walking for years.Don’t need any help.”
He laughed, loving a female with spirit, especially one who would be difficult to bag.No doubt about it, Detective Rey heightened his predator-prey instinct.This assignment might be better than expected.Or it would shove his wolf over the edge.
Con wanted to trap her, unpin her hair, strip off her manly pants, and sink his cock into her.He didn’t think that was what Commander Nace had meant when he said, “Play nice.”But the words were open to interpretation.
When he growled, Rey stumbled.He latched onto her arm again so that she didn’t fall on her ass when she looked at him, his canines showing.
“What’s the growl for?”she asked, jerking away from him.
“Just happens sometimes.Ignore it.”He didn’t share that it was because of his aggressive wolf.He was here to do a job.Instead of focusing on it, a sensible female cop was distracting him.
A part of him recoiled at the feral beast who was clawing beneath his skin.He’d have to leash his beast, or he’d be fucking Rey before the mission was over.Of that, Con was sure.
The closer his beast stepped to the edge, the more it rolled in prurient desires—killing, sex, torture.The more it acted on them.
Chapter Four
Reybreathed more easily in the comfort of her workspace.Her precinct.Her desk.Her chair.Even with the very masculine, very virile man sitting across from her.Not a man.A wolf beneath all that bronze skin and shaggy blond hair streaked with sunlight.
Lazing into his chair, he folded his arms over his chest.He was huge.His shirt barely contained him, his bulky biceps stretching the sleeves of his tee.With a boyish grin, he swiped a chunk of hair away from his amber eyes.His heavy-lidded stare was deceptive.Beneath it, she saw a predator lurking.Something in his haunting gaze spelled danger and was meant to disarm her.
But she was around testosterone all the time.Usually it didn’t bother her.This man might be different.She’d need to be cautious.
No one steamrolled her.After all, she’d invited him to help.Not to run the case, but to assist her in solving it.
“Well?”he asked.
She shook her head to clear it.“Yes.”Rey opened the file.
“The victim is George Sandoval, a youth support coordinator at the New York State Office of Children and Family Services.OCFS.”
