THE STRAGGLERS PROTECT Read online

  Peter and I got up and went to the door, accompanied by a Miss Thompson in an hurry to let us go, practically kicking us out of her house.

  I held the door, putting a foot down to keep it open and to warn her that the investigations would go on.

  “We’ll keep investigating and if you remember any detail even if you don’t think it’s very important, this is my card, it has the station number and my cellphone, call at anytime, I’ll be ready to hear you. But this crime won’t go unpunished, there’s something really weird in the break in of your house and I’m going to find out what it is. Good afternoon, Miss Thompson.”

  She reached her hand and got my card, our hands were united for some seconds, the heat of her frail fingers moved my body, leaving me with an aching hard cock, in a way that not even a thousand stripers would want to come close.

  I imagine these little fingers wrapped on my neck, covering me with wet kisses, her soft voice whispering and moaning in my ear while she cums hard.

  This little hand around my penis, making me mad... My God, I’m investigating the break in of this woman’s house, it makes no sense for me to get aroused by a scared figure.

  But I can’t explain the reason my body reacts this way to Miss Thompson, I only know I want to see her agin, I want to look at these scared little bunny eyes, her small and half opened mouth with mine. Instinctively I wan’t to have her around me again, I don’t know why, but this is the truth.

  She awakens me from the sexual reverie by releasing my fingers and looking away to anywhere else.

  “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to waste your time with something silly like this, but if I remember something, I’ll call, thank you and good afternoon.”

  Having another cup of coffee from BT Cake, a diner downtown Portland, Peter and I talked while the waitress serves our table.

  “I thought it was really weird that the suspect wasted his time smoking two cigarettes in the house and didn’t take absolutely anything, what do you think, Peter?”

  “I agree with you, and I also think that miss Thompson is the most delicious and scary thing that rocked your wall, my friend! That’s the only thing that can explain that ridiculous scene with you mouth wide open, fucking with your eyes the poor thing when she opened the door.”

  The best thing is to deny and that’s what I did even though I knew that Peter knew me long enough to know I was lying.

  “Me? No, no way, I was just distracted, she is quite beautiful, but, geez, not this way and...”

  Peter laughed with his mouth full of doughnut and I got even angrier.

  “And... She shook you, man, that’s the truth, that’s good, it’s been long time since I’ve see you reacting to a women that way, you should look for her.”

  “Are you mad, I’m investigating a break in at her house, this won’t happen, Cumming.”

  Peter shrugged and went on with his coffee, enjoying a doughnut after another, he didn’t swallow my excuse and to be honest, I didn’t believe it either in a word I just said.

  I want to meet Miss Thompson, she weirdly awakens in my a neediness to comfort her in my arms, to take care of her at any risk, to protect her.

  Where did I get an idea like that, I don’t know, I’m not a regular guy who asks a woman to a date, asks her to marry and give her children.

  I’m a fucking wolf, a hunting and bloody beast under this normality mask, of an exemplary citizen.

  The correct and balanced Sheriff Adam Vaugh is an alpha wolf of a little pack of stragglers, my brothers.

  My duty is to keep my family and my specie safe, to that, there’s no other way than renouncing, keeping distance at any situation that can put us at risk of becoming vulnerable and being discovered.

  That includes lovely dates with scared girls.

  Therefore, I won’t be the lucky guy who’ll take Miss Thompson to a date, surely the last thing she wants is to get involved with a weird guy like me.

  No girl wants to have sex with a weird guy that from one minute to the other transforms into a wolf over seven foot long, ready to kill.

  My life changed drastically when my parents died, sometimes I thing that being a lycanthrope, a wolf, is at the same time a blessing and a curse.

  Mother Nature gifted us with sharp senses, making us a strong, dominant and lethal specie. The fact that my brothers and I remain together in a pack, even though straggler from the other ones, it was determinant for our survival after the loss of our parents, because even though they were really young, our animal instincts kept us safe from the dangers that surround the lives of wolves like us, in constant danger of being hunt.

  But, behind all this gift, there’s a high cost to pay, these animals, the same instincts that keep us alert, make us eternal hunters and frail prey to the hunters need, of owning, of desire of protection and domain.

  The animal that lives inside us fights constantly with the man, with the human that needs to adapt, to fit in community and not always in this fight, the man wins.

  When the beast wins, there’s nothing to stop us, to tame us, what move us is the visceral and animal need of having our most primitive desires completely satisfied.

  And that’s what I fear the most, having to face a woman one day that indices and frees my tamed wolf, and desiring her so much in a way that the man loses the right against the male, the uncontrolled beast, unrestrained, insatiable.

  CHAPTER 2

  SAMANTHA THOMPSON

  I’m still shaking after Sheriff Vaugh’s visit and there’s no lack of reasons, the aura strength and raw masculinity around him is irresistible.

  The way the undressed me with his eyes, the comforting touch of his hands on mine, brought me an entanglement of scary and conflicting feelings.

  When I saw that huge man standing at my door, the first thing that came to my mind was how I felt alone and vulnerable.

  His tanned and well shaped arms and the muscled manly body visibly strong, even covered by the uniform, give out a COZINESS and PROTECTIVE feeling.

  Or maybe it’s just a feeling, an urgent need I have of being welcomed, after I was thrown in this hurricane that became my life.

  The thing is, he moved me, in the best sense of the word.

  I sit on the couch, holding my little box of memories, looking at pictures taken with my colleagues from Center Bank, in New York, and pictures from mom and Janet, my younger sister. I get the newspapers clipping and my stomach still turns when I read again the same old news from almost six months ago.

  “The investigations from Center Bank Hall robbery - NY on August 12 of 2014, still haven’t moved on, there is information that the FBI will take the case.”

  “The two robbers took part in the robbery of the vault of the Russian magnate Ivan K. Kedrak were found brutally murdered with torture marks on their hands and feet. Mr. Kedrak, only heir of “The War Father”, Iuri Kedrak, from Kendrak Arms Industry, was found by this paper for an interview, but he made no comment on the subject. Sources of this paper, assure that the Iceman, Mr. Ivan Kurkievicz Kedrak may have strong connections with the Russian mob.”

  “The mega robbery at Center Bank hall is still without solution, New York Police Department has evidence that there were bank employees involved in the robbery. Considered the most perfect bank robbery in New York City’s history, one of the gang members was found murdered, but the stollen diamonds from Russian magnata Ivan K. Kendrak’s safe were still not recuperated.”

  And to think how could I have been so stupid?

  I had my life all together, I got the job I always dreamt of, I got my boss’s trust and was promoted to vice manager of the bank with at just twenty-four, I was engaged and in love with Igor, I never thought he could have used me that way.

  The real truth is that Igor was never a sweet and harmless insurance agent he made me believe he was.

  I was sleeping with a cold blooded bandit, capable of fooling me, stealing, murdering and then treating me to death.

  I nev
er met knew him as I naively thought I did, Igor was a Kedrak, Iuri’s bastard son, therefore, illegitimate brother of Ivan.

  A cold blooded genius thief that got close to me with only one purpose: hack into my computer, acquire the safe password from his brother and orchestrate the perfect crime of over fifteen million dollars in diamonds stones and bars of gold.

  He convinced me to leave New York to distract me from the investigations of the employers of the Center Bank and I only figured out I was used as a puppet when the son of a bitch ran away, not without first humiliating me in a drunk night and almost breaking my neck to eliminate me as a witness.

  I close my eyes and I still see him laughing sarcastically at me, after a few shots of cheap Russian vodka.

  “You really thought we were going to leave New York to rest from all this work? I hid the diamonds very well and you, stupid little whore...”

  He threatened me and caressed my lips, while he squeezed my neck.

  “Igor, please, don’t kill me.”

  “You’re going to be quiet, with your little mouth well shut, or you’re going to have a death so bad that that fat church goer of your mother won’t have a body to recognize in the morgue.”

  That same night, Igor ran away and I had no way of returning to New York, I’ve been hiding in Portland, but I knew that from those revelations, my life would never be the same again.

  The feeling of being watched was bothering me by the hour, this pricking and shiver on my nape has happened for three nights in a row. I look around the house and I can’t see who’s spying on me, but I know I’m not crazy, my intuition never fails.

  I need to get out of this house for a while otherwise I’ll end up going mad, woking in a shitty job to survive in this town where I only have one friend since I moved here almost a year ago.

  At least it’s something, I got a job as a waitress at Mathews T-Bone, a small restaurant in town and for now I still haven’t been charged of being an accomplice at the Center Bank robbery.

  The night is hot and I went to drink a few beers at The Sickle Pub, a bikers bar that plays dubious quality country music, but it’s the nearest bar from my house to relax between a pints of Duff.

  Some women arrive with their cowboy boots and really short mini skirts and the night seem promising. I enter the pub and go straight to a corner of the counter, a smooth Dolly Parton song comes out of the jukebox, I ask for a well bodied Duff and try to distract myself.

  I look towards the Pub entrance and my eyes are attracted like bees to honey by that mass of muscles and masculinity, modestly sexy.

  The austere image of law authority remains in his imposing posture, with his legs a little spread, biceps strongly evidenced by the folded arms and by the gray cotton sweater.

  But it’s his casual ways, almost messy wrapped in dark jeans, beat up boots, and the untidy hair spiked up everywhere, that surprised me.

  I need to get my breath back and balance back that he kicked away from this bar in each step towards me.

  He came walking in my direction, his burning brown eyes staring mine and the temperature in the environment increased dangerously.

  “Good evening, Miss Thompson.”

  I can only smile a bit embarrassed, shyness making me want him clearly, I don’t have the strength to look at him. I can’t decide if he’s more handsome with or without his uniform, but tonight, he’s as sexy and hot as hell.

  “Hi, Sheriff Vaugh.”

  He smiled and in his face I saw two dimples.

  I’m scared to feel my thighs getting wet by the sight of that delicious package of male man right in front of me.

  “Please, I’m off duty, call me Adam.”

  I try a smile without seeming silly and I point at the empty seat by my side.

  “Only if you call me Samantha.”

  “Okay, Samantha, what are you drinking?”

  I show him my empty Duff and he asks the bartender another pint and a shot of straight up whiskey.

  The bartender narrowed his eyes and I don’t understand what’s going on.

  The guy is huge, a somber look, a handsome type, but kind of scary, my thighs are two sticks next to this man’s arms, they stare at one another and the bartender signals to Adam to approach his face and teases speaking slowly:

  “Miss, have your bear, whiskey only if you’re not driving.”

  I get scared, fuck this shit, this is going to end up in a fight, Adam gets even closer to his face and growls.

  “Take care of your life, you bastard son of a bitch.”

  The bartender signals Adam to get even closer, showing some indignation.

  “Did you call me a bastard?”

  And he completes it making fists:

  “And son of a bitch? Was that really what I heard?”

  Adam nods and with a dash of mockery.

  “You always say the right thing, Damy Boy.”

  And them both laugh, banging their fists on the counter, the bartender kisses Adam’s forehead and smiles to calm me down.

  “Nice to meet you, Hunter Vaugh, Adam’s brother.”

  Geez! Wow, if they wanted to kill me why didn’t they just shoot me? It’s quicker, and painless, my heart almost leapt out of my mouth. Adam is a very strong man, but Hunter is more like a war tank type with two legs, completely scary, I sigh, fuck! If they were going to really face each other, there wouldn’t be spared a chair left in the entire pub.

  “Samantha Thompson, the pleasure is all mine, Hunter.”

  Hunter kissed my hand and then poked his brother on the chest, with the clear intention of provoking him.

  “You may be older, Damy Boy, but my word remains the same, whiskey only if you’re not driving.”

  Adam looked amused and calmed his bother.

  “She’ll take me home, don’t worry.”

  I lower my head without disagreeing, feeling my hands sweat and my face blush, if the bar had better lighting I would die of embarrassment, my cheeks burned with me imagining everything obscene and delicious that I could do to Adam by taking him home drunk.

  I could run my hand through his well defined abs feeling his six pack under my fingers, I could pull his messy hair that make him even more handsome... And the mouth, I could lick his lips, taste his soft mouth mixed with bourdon and maybe blow him and go down...

  “Samantha? Did you hear me?”

  “Uh, I’m sorry, I was distracted.”

  “I asked you if you always come here.”

  “No, this is the second time I come here, I’m new in town.”

  He seems relaxed with his legs stretched out on the chair, playfully spinning the ice in his whiskey glass.

  “Where you are from?”

  I’ll have to lie, I can’t say I’m from New York.

  “Virginia. And you?”

  I’ll have to lie to her, I can’t say I’m from Alaska.

  “I’m from here.”

  We have a fun talk, I found out that just like me, he loves books, we like the same suspense writers but we disagree a lot about music, he enjoys blues and I’m a lover of romantic ballads.

  Adam takes me to the pool table, his hands rest possessively on my back and a warmth ran through my body when he whispers in my ear:

  “Do you know how to play pool?”

  “More or less?”

  “More to more or more to less?”

  “More to I know what a cue is, a ball and this funny green carpet, nothing besides that, get it?”

  Adam scratched his chin teasing me.

  “Let’s see what I can do with your wide knowledge in pool.”

  He patiently taught me the basic rules and I confess that I didn’t understand a lot, but to be by his side it was something so good that it was worth the effort, I wanted to keep his strong and masculine body with mine, even that for that I had to pretend to be an ace playing pool.

  “You’re not holding the cue correctly, lean over a bit more and aim calmly on the ball.”

  I l
eaned more towards the “green carpet”, I felt all the heat that was coming from his body, he bend over behind me and his sex stuck to my ass, his hard penis moving with his hips, he grabbed my hands and directing the blow and his bourbon and mint breath burned my skin with desire.

  His lips so near my neck, I don’t know if it was me or him, but when the music stopped I heard a moan.

  “You learn quick, Samantha.”

  I turned my face to his and our mouths were no close that I panted by watching him wet his lips.

  “Thank you, it’s not so hard and you are a great teacher.”

  A new song began and I dropped the cue, pulled him by the shirt to the dance floor. He bit the corner of his mouth and confessed he didn’t know how to dance.

  “I’m good at pool, but I’m not good dancing.”

  “You just have to do what I do, it’s easy, let your body feel the music.”

  I turned my back to him, the dance floor was full of couples dancing and some women who were alone salivated for Adam. He touched my waist and slid his fingers through an opening on my outfit on my naked stomach.

  I couldn’t resist, I held his hands and moved my hips to the rhythm of the sound, in the compass of my desire that grew more and more, the feeling of having his body stuck on mine is so divine that I don’t know if we are really dancing or fucking with our clothes on.

  I turned to face him and before I could think of stop dancing, he pulled my hands and put around his neck, wrapping my waist with his strong and cozy arms.

  I was home, feeling his arms around my body, it’s so comforting, so warm.

  Adam is so strong, but his touch is gentle, caring.

  I buried my face on his chest and his smell invaded my body, knocking down any resistance I could have.

  Wow! His smell is so good, manly, clean, engaging.

  Adam pushed away a tuft of hair that fell on my face and I could feel him smelling and kissing my hair.

  We drank another beer and he got me by the hand so we could say good bye to Hunter.

  “Hunt, we’re going.”

  Hunter put down the drink mixer, cleaned his hand on his jeans and kissed my hand, staring Adam.