STORY EXCERPT

Deputy Morgan Savani spotted a car parked on the side of the road and wondered if the motorist needed any help. Already today he’d checked on six elderly residents, taking three to a cooling center set up for those who didn’t have a way to escape the heatwave.

This was not a day to be outside.

The vet clinic had filled a large, plastic pool outside their building with water for any strays that wanted to cool down or needed a drink. The local businesses were handing out free bottled water, and the fire department had put out two fires caused by overheated window units.

Morgan pulled in behind the white sedan, noticing that the car was running, which meant the temperature inside might not be dangerously high if the AC was working.

After radioing dispatch that he was making the stop, Morgan got out of his cruiser and walked toward the driver’s side door, sweat already covering him. There wasn’t even a stray breeze to cool him off.

The weather report he’d watched before heading into work this morning said the heatwave should break by tomorrow, but they’d said that yesterday, so he wasn’t holding his breath.

With temperatures like this, Falls General was elbow-deep in people suffering from heat stroke. His coworker, Deputy Cannon Lowery, had to break a window on an SUV to rescue a toddler when the dad had gotten out and the locks had mistakenly engaged. From what Cannon had told him, the dad had been in a full-blown panic, trying desperately to break the glass himself but had been unsuccessful.

As Morgan walked closer, he noticed a long crack along the rear window and saw clothes and other things in the back seat.

When he reached the driver’s door and looked inside, no one was sitting there. Who would leave their car running on the side of the road? He checked the door and found it unlocked. As soon as he opened it, intense heat rushed out.

This couldn’t be good. Morgan reached inside and looked through the papers on the passenger seat, sweat already soaking him. Unfortunately the papers didn’t have anyone’s name on them. Morgan pulled back, taking a deep breath as he wiped his face with his arm, and then went around to the passenger side to check the glove box, hoping to find a registration. The only things in there were the owner’s manual, tons of napkins, and…was that a bloody rag?

Morgan pulled a latex glove from the pocket of his uniform shirt and picked the rag up. He didn’t have to put the cloth close to his nose to know it was blood. His shifter senses picked up on the scent right away.

Although the rag didn’t mean a crime had been committed, the entire scene didn’t feel right. Morgan pulled his cell phone out and called Sheriff Harper. “I got an abandoned car off of Hinkley Road, right before the old Clark farm. The car is running with no one inside, and I found a bloody rag in the glovebox.”

Hinkley Road was pretty isolated, a perfect opportunity for anyone who wanted to do something without worrying about a lot of traffic. In fact, it was the least traveled back road in Midnight Falls.

“You could have an injury on your hands,” Dominic said. “The heat might have made the driver delirious. Check the surrounding area to see if you can spot or scent anyone.”

Morgan glanced toward the old farmhouse that hadn’t been occupied in years. As far as he knew, the bank owned it. “I’m going to check out the old Clark place. Maybe whoever owns this car saw the house and decided to seek refuge there from this heat.”

It would have been better than sitting in a sweltering car.

“Keep me updated,” the sheriff said before he hung up.

Morgan’s boss couldn’t send backup. Every available officer in Midnight Falls was out trying to help anyone who needed it.

Morgan leaned over and shut the car off then removed the key. After locking up the car, he pocketed the kay and walked back to his cruiser. Once he put the bloody rag in an evidence bag, he drove to the farmhouse. The bank must have paid someone to maintain the property because the grass wasn’t overgrown and the house didn’t look as if it was falling apart after years of standing empty.

Morgan drove down the driveway and parked to the right of the house, scanning the area before he got out. Nothing seemed off as he walked toward the porch and climbed the steps.

That was when he saw one of the small panes of glass on the front door had been broken. When he tried to open the door, he found it locked.

Morgan reached in through the broken pane, his arm barely fitting, and unlocked it from the inside. The door creaked as it swung inward.

“Anyone in here?” he called out, moving farther inside, his boot crunching the broken glass on the floor from the window. “I’m a deputy. Yell out if you can hear me.”

No one answered.

Working his way from room to room, Morgan checked the place, but he found nothing on the first floor. As he climbed the stairs leading to the second floor, he noticed that the interior was only slightly cooler than it was outside.

His nose twitched when he caught the scent of blood.

Morgan pulled his gun free of its holster, listening for any noises in the quiet house while he eased down the long hallway, checking the rooms as he passed them.

The smell grew stronger as he approached the slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. With his foot, he nudged the door open then moved swiftly inside, checking behind it before he looked around the room.

It was empty, but one of the closet doors hadn’t been shut all the way. Morgan edged over to it then yanked it open, aiming his weapon.

On the floor was an unconscious man on his side, blood matting his light brown hair. Morgan holstered his gun and knelt, checking for a pulse. It was thready, but there.

Noticing the man smelled human, Morgan used the mic on his shoulder to radio for an ambulance. He didn’t want to roll the guy in case he had a neck or spinal injury, but he saw blood coating the back of the human’s shirt.

As carefully as he could in the confined space, he lifted the teal-colored T-shirt and saw gashes along the human’s lower back. Morgan couldn’t be certain what might have made them, but they looked a lot like claw marks.

When he lowered the shirt, the fragrance of a warm ocean breeze enveloped his senses. For a brief moment Morgan closed his eyes as sandy beaches, crashing waves, and the sound of seagulls overhead made him feel as if he were standing on the edge of paradise.  

The human was his mate.

ADULT EXCERPT

Morgan set Sam on the closed toilet seat then turned on the shower in the stall. By the time this was over, Sam was going to be mortified. He just knew it.

“Lift your arms as high as they’ll go,” Morgan instructed. When Sam did, Morgan eased his shirt over his head. Sam’s nipples turned into hard peaks as Morgan helped him stand. “Grip the sink for balance.”

Was it Sam’s imagination or had Morgan’s voice grown deeper? Great. Now he was projecting his lust onto the deputy. The guy was only helping, like he said he would. It was Sam who was turning this into his own private fantasy.

Morgan lowered to his knees and slid Sam’s shorts down his legs. Sam tried to think of anything that would stop his cock from getting hard. He stepped out of his shorts, and Morgan led him to the stall. It was a serious challenge, but so far, his cock was behaving.

Until Morgan undressed, leaving only his underwear on.

“What’re you doing?” Sam’s brows shot up as his gaze roamed over Morgan’s sculpted body. This was the first time he’d seen the guy’s chest without a shirt on, and fuck, it was even more impressive than Sam thought. He wanted to touch, to lick, and suck each nipple between his teeth.

“Did you expect me to stand outside the shower and have miraculously long arms to scrub you down?”

Honestly, Sam hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I have my underwear on,” Morgan pointed out as if Sam was blind to the fact that a nearly naked guy was right there in front of him. Those boxer briefs weren’t going to leave much to the imagination once they became wet, and sweet hell, had he ever seen thighs so muscular before?

He just bet Morgan could crack a walnut with them.

After Morgan led him into the stall, Sam turned around, giving the guy his back. If there had been safety bars in the shower, he would have insisted Morgan leave the bathroom. There weren’t, so Sam had nothing to hold on to if standing became too much.

He went rigid when Morgan slowly turned him. “I can’t wash you if you’re dry.”

As the water cascaded over Sam, he kept his eyes glued on Morgan’s chest. The guy turned him around again, and a moment later, strong hands glided over Sam’s naked body. Morgan took his time soaping Sam’s shoulders, moving lower and lower, working in gentle circles, like he was molding Sam’s body instead of washing it.

When Morgan reached his ass, Sam bit back a whimper. The guy was very thorough. The cloth skated between Sam’s cheeks, and his cock jerked at the intimate contact as the cloth glided over his hole.

Sam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, praying he didn’t orgasm. Then Morgan washed the back of Sam’s legs.

“Turn,” Morgan said, and Sam was positive the guy’s voice was much deeper and a bit strained.

Blowing out a breath, Sam turned, letting the spray wash away the soap from the back of his body. Morgan started at Sam’s shoulders but avoided eye contact.

Good. Sam didn’t need to look into those brown depths as Morgan’s hands tortured him. The guy lifted Sam’s arms one at a time, washing them, then drew the cloth over Sam’s chest and stomach.

Things went sideways when Morgan knelt and washed between Sam’s legs. He couldn’t stop his cock from hardening no matter how much he wanted to. His erection was right in Morgan’s face, yet the guy didn’t say a word as he swirled the soapy cloth around Sam’s shaft.

Either Morgan was straight—and no straight man on earth would wash another guy’s dick—or he had no sexual interest in Sam. He was laser-focused on his task, no sign that he was turned on.

Sam looked toward the ceiling, wishing a hole would open him up and swallow him. Fuck. He needed to stop thinking of anything being swallowed right now.

“How’s your back?” Morgan asked. “Are you feeling any pain?”

Sam was, but the pain wasn’t in his back. It was pulsing between his legs. He simply shook his head, not daring to look down at Morgan’s wet body.

“We’re almost done. You’re doing great, Sam.”

The guy needed to stop saying Sam’s name with that bedroom voice. It wasn’t helping Sam’s crisis.

“Hold my shoulders so I can get your feet.”

Sam had to look so he knew where to place his hands. Big mistake. Morgan was staring up at him, water glistening in his hair and all over his body. He was every gay man’s fantasy, and Sam’s body was coiled so tight that any second he was going to come in Morgan’s face.

As badly as Sam wanted to, he couldn’t rip his gaze away. It was as if Morgan held him in a trance. Sam’s lips parted as his fingers dug into Morgan’s shoulders.

“I’m trying so fucking hard not to go back on my word, Sam. I don’t want you to think I lied to you, but your cock is in my face, and it’s killing me not to do anything about it.”

Sam swallowed roughly. “Like w-what?”

“Can I show you?”

His breath shallow, Sam nodded.

Morgan rose to his feet, turned Sam until his back was against his chest, and then dropped the cloth. He curled his soapy hand around Sam’s hard cock, making him whimper.

The strokes had Sam curling his toes as he leaned into Morgan’s strong body. He was dying to drop to his knees and suck Morgan off, but Sam knew his back couldn’t take it.

Morgan’s hand glided over Sam’s heated flesh, tightening at just the right moments. Sam groaned as Morgan’s free hand slid over his wet stomach then glided lower until he cupped Sam’s balls.

He had to be dreaming this. The moment was too damn perfect. Sam felt Morgan’s erection pressing into him and pushed back on it, wishing to god it was buried in his ass. He curled his hands around Morgan’s biceps, gripping them as Morgan’s hand slid up and down, his grip a little tighter.