herself. Val moaned as her fingers brushed over her sensitive clit, and images of the handsome sheriff flashed before her.
Lord, she was horny again!
As frustrating as she found her current condition, she was a little relieved and surprised to find that her body felt fine. All the aches that had been plaguing her over the last few days had disappeared, and she felt great.
No, now she was assaulted by an ache of an altogether different kind.
*
Jake flicked through the channels on the TV, trying to find something to take his mind off a certain fiery woman. He settled on the news and dropped the remote on the coffee table.
He took over his house when he moved to the pack. It previously belonged to Felicity and Ford Carver’s parents. They retired to Florida, and Jake bought their house fully furnished. He wondered if Val would like his house? When he bought the house the Carvers had hinted at him finding a mate and raising a family there like they had… he hadn’t liked to disillusion the sweet couple, but neither of those things had ever been on his radar. He’d always thought that having a family was overrated. Perhaps until now.
He wondered if Val wanted kids. His wolf panted at the thought. He’d never really cared about children before. They mostly just irritated him, but the thought of having his own kids, with Val, was different.
The TV caught his attention as his ex-wife sauntered on screen. Agent Robyn Foreman of the SEA. Yeah, for some reason she had chosen to keep his name. He wondered about that, but never cared enough to ask.
He turned up the volume as she coldly, and professionally gave out details of a murder that had occurred in Ursa, Georgia. That was where she transferred after their divorce. She didn’t give out many details, the SEA tried to remain very tight-lipped where the public was concerned, but the victim was a shifter female, and they were asking for information.
Dang, it must have been bad if they were already trying to get the public involved. From experience, the tip line generally only invited nut jobs to make crazy reports about aliens. They only publically asked for tips if they were really stumped or if the murder was so horrific that they wanted it wrapped up because they feared another murder of the same ilk.
He flashed back to Morgan. The sick fucker had ritualistically killed eight people before Jake had shot him. Almost nine. It took a long time before Astrid could even step outside her front door without shaking after the hell Morgan put her through.
He should call Astrid tomorrow and see how she was getting on. They kept in touch as often as they could; he would tell her about life in the pack, and she would complain about her boss and boyfriend. Jake felt like her protective older brother and was always ready to rush to her to help her with her obnoxious boss or dumbass boyfriend. She always told him not to, of course, but Jake knew she just liked the fact that he cared enough to offer. Yes, he would call her tomorrow and see how she was getting on.
He watched rather than listened to what Robyn was saying. She looked serious, but he could tell she was enjoying herself. This was always the part of the job she loved. The glory. Jake could never consider giving a press conference and admitting to the world that a killer was roaming free to be glorious. But no, Robyn wanted the recognition. Jake had always wanted to be left alone to do his job. Not that it mattered anymore; he wouldn’t change what he had in Rose for the world. Although he could think of one thing that would make his life just a little more enjoyable, well, one woman, rather…
Chapter Seven
The next day, Val decided to go on a charm offensive. Following some more dirty – but highly enjoyable – dreams, it was clear that just ignoring the sheriff wasn’t going to work. She felt herself flush with pleasure at just the thought of him, and, lord help her, his gruff, no-nonsense attitude just seemed to
Lord, she was horny again!
As frustrating as she found her current condition, she was a little relieved and surprised to find that her body felt fine. All the aches that had been plaguing her over the last few days had disappeared, and she felt great.
No, now she was assaulted by an ache of an altogether different kind.
*
Jake flicked through the channels on the TV, trying to find something to take his mind off a certain fiery woman. He settled on the news and dropped the remote on the coffee table.
He took over his house when he moved to the pack. It previously belonged to Felicity and Ford Carver’s parents. They retired to Florida, and Jake bought their house fully furnished. He wondered if Val would like his house? When he bought the house the Carvers had hinted at him finding a mate and raising a family there like they had… he hadn’t liked to disillusion the sweet couple, but neither of those things had ever been on his radar. He’d always thought that having a family was overrated. Perhaps until now.
He wondered if Val wanted kids. His wolf panted at the thought. He’d never really cared about children before. They mostly just irritated him, but the thought of having his own kids, with Val, was different.
The TV caught his attention as his ex-wife sauntered on screen. Agent Robyn Foreman of the SEA. Yeah, for some reason she had chosen to keep his name. He wondered about that, but never cared enough to ask.
He turned up the volume as she coldly, and professionally gave out details of a murder that had occurred in Ursa, Georgia. That was where she transferred after their divorce. She didn’t give out many details, the SEA tried to remain very tight-lipped where the public was concerned, but the victim was a shifter female, and they were asking for information.
Dang, it must have been bad if they were already trying to get the public involved. From experience, the tip line generally only invited nut jobs to make crazy reports about aliens. They only publically asked for tips if they were really stumped or if the murder was so horrific that they wanted it wrapped up because they feared another murder of the same ilk.
He flashed back to Morgan. The sick fucker had ritualistically killed eight people before Jake had shot him. Almost nine. It took a long time before Astrid could even step outside her front door without shaking after the hell Morgan put her through.
He should call Astrid tomorrow and see how she was getting on. They kept in touch as often as they could; he would tell her about life in the pack, and she would complain about her boss and boyfriend. Jake felt like her protective older brother and was always ready to rush to her to help her with her obnoxious boss or dumbass boyfriend. She always told him not to, of course, but Jake knew she just liked the fact that he cared enough to offer. Yes, he would call her tomorrow and see how she was getting on.
He watched rather than listened to what Robyn was saying. She looked serious, but he could tell she was enjoying herself. This was always the part of the job she loved. The glory. Jake could never consider giving a press conference and admitting to the world that a killer was roaming free to be glorious. But no, Robyn wanted the recognition. Jake had always wanted to be left alone to do his job. Not that it mattered anymore; he wouldn’t change what he had in Rose for the world. Although he could think of one thing that would make his life just a little more enjoyable, well, one woman, rather…
Chapter Seven
The next day, Val decided to go on a charm offensive. Following some more dirty – but highly enjoyable – dreams, it was clear that just ignoring the sheriff wasn’t going to work. She felt herself flush with pleasure at just the thought of him, and, lord help her, his gruff, no-nonsense attitude just seemed to
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