Book 6 in the Supernatural Bonds series.
Homicide detective Conner Stern doesn't know what Khemirra Reis is running from, only that he's damn determined to find out. Right after he lays her bare beneath him and works the beautiful obsession out of his system.
Sexual satisfaction first, revealing her secrets second--that's the plan--except Khemirra is battling a fascination of her own. Her rational mind says stay far, far away from the gorgeous cop who doesn't want anything to do with the supernatural. But after Conner catches up to her and shows her with heated kisses and carnal demands just how perfect they can be together, the wolf part of her nature is convinced he's the right mate.
Conner wants her trust. She needs his help. But Khemirra doesn't know which of her secrets Conner will hate more--that she killed a man, or that she's a werewolf. Unless love overrides all else, they'll lose any chance of a future together.
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Conner's Wolf by Jory Strong
"Are these the guys you've been running from?" Conner asked.
The fierce protectiveness in his voice was like the lap of a hot, hot tongue between Khemirra's thighs and she savored the sensation, squeezing her legs together in awareness of just how swollen she'd become at his mere presence.
"I don't know who they are."
She ate him up with her eyes because making a carnal meal of him at this particular moment wouldn't be a good move. She would have laughed at how much she was channeling the wolf, except she'd been thinking about Conner off and on all night, and now here he was, his scent obliterating the stink of beer and unwashed bodies wafting off the men lying on the asphalt between them.
"They're opportunistic rapists, I'd say." She glanced at the truck, its engine throbbing and the doors open for what was probably supposed to be a quick grab followed by a hasty exit onto the freeway. "Texas plates."
"If you don't have a cell phone, come over here and get mine. Call 9-1-1."
Her amusement died. Calling the police would generate a report with her name on it, maybe even get trapped in an information filter and passed on, confirming time and whereabouts. Not something she was anxious to do. But freeing these guys and having another woman take her place for their idea of fun and games wasn't an option either, which left her with only one obvious alternative.
She skirted around Beefy and Scrawny, going to Conner's side. Keeping her voice low she said, "What about if you call it in? Say you were an eyewitness to an attack but while you were maintaining control of these assholes the woman fled the scene. It'd be my word against theirs anyway, with your testimony being the one to lock them up."
She didn't need the change in his scent to tell her how much he didn't like the suggestion. He fairly bristled at hearing it. But he was also cop enough to understand her reasons without her having to argue them.
"Fuck! I'll keep you out of this if I can, on one condition. You stick around and we talk."
Talk wasn't the four-letter word she was primarily interested in, but his showing up wasn't an accident, and agreeing to stay didn't necessarily mean revealing the worst of her secrets. Though, from his point of view, she wasn't sure which he'd hate hearing more--that she'd killed a man, or that she was a werewolf.
"Good. There are some plasticuffs in the console between the seats. Grab a couple of them."
He ordered the men onto their stomachs as she retrieved the cuffs. "You know how to use a gun?"
"Range practice every week as part of my schooling. Hunting deer, rabbits and ducks for the family dinner table as quality bonding time."
"Then keeping these two covered while I cuff them shouldn't be a problem for you."
She nearly purred at the approval coming off him, and that was a testament to his effect on her. A wolf was not a cat. "Nope, not a problem. This close, placing my shots isn't much of a challenge."
"Don't get trigger-happy."
Conner exchanged the gun in his hand for the plasticuffs in hers before making quick work of securing the men and pulling ID off them. Christ, he knew he was thinking with his dick, but right now its voice outshouted the one of reason.
He took the 9mm back, a flash of sexual heat shooting through him with the casual touch of her skin to his in the transfer. He couldn't believe he'd given her his gun, could barely accept how much effort he was about to expend to keep her name out of this, but until he knew who she was running from and what kind of influence they had, he didn't see a choice he liked better.
Instead of dialing 9-1-1, he called his CSI buddy. "You at work?"
"Yeah, so is my supervisor."
"This is official business."
"You abandon the search? Or catch up with her?"
"Caught up with her just as she was putting a couple would-be rapists down."
"I'm beginning to see why you're hot for her."
"You don't know the half of it. I need you to run the names for me. They're driving a Ford-250 with Texas plates and I'm thinking chances are good there are some outstanding warrants on these two."
He read off the information, hearing it being typed in. The wait for a hit took even less time.
"Good call. Jumped bail on charges of aggravated assault in the commission of a felony. The good State of Texas definitely wants them back."
"That's music to my ears. Thanks."
He called 9-1-1, identifying himself and the situation before directing the local police to their location.
"If you want to stay uninvolved, you should get in the car."
"I appreciate this, Conner."
She walked away. And goddamn, he couldn't take his eyes off her. It felt like there was a leash attached to his dick and she was holding the other end of it, pulling it tighter and tighter with each swing of her hips.
Talk. He'd be lucky if he managed more than two words with her. Let's fuck.