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He pulled his hands from his pockets and stepped toward me, hand brushing mine, reassuring me that he didn't blame me, wasn't angry about that. The reassurance was nice, but I knew what he was upset about. The same thing I was: a failed hunt.
"By the time I got around the building, he was gone," Clay said. "I think he went north, but I couldn't pick up the trail. We should circle back and maybe Elena--"
Jeremy shook his head. "The police saw you following Elena. I don't want either of you back in that park."
"What if we weren't recognizable?" I asked. "If one of us Changed, we could find the trail for sure. And it is a popular park with dogs."
Jeremy wouldn't even dignify that with an answer.
"Okay," I said. "Then we'll wait. Those officers will move on, then I'll go back--"
"No."
"But--"
"One, he'll be long gone. Two, it's not worth our time simply to satisfy our curiosity."
I opened my mouth to argue, but Jeremy had already moved away. I looked at Clay. His jaw worked, and he glanced back toward the park.
"We could find him," I whispered.
"Yeah."
"We should find him."
"Yeah."
Jeremy didn't turn, but his voice floated back to us. "Just in case I wasn't clear? That was an order."
We glared at his back, then jogged to catch up.
Jeremy had picked a hotel from a cluster near the QEW, the highway that would take us back toward Buffalo. The hotel was nothing fancy--this was just a sleep-and-go stopover. Or it was for Jeremy. Having been deprived of our quarry and our city run, neither Clay nor I was in any mood for sleep. A hasty good night at the door to Jeremy, then a fumbled throwing of the deadbolt and we fell on each other, nips masquerading as kisses, clawing as fevered gropes.
"Bed?" Clay gasped as he came up for air.
I looked over at it, looming five feet away. "Too far."
He chuckled and his mouth went back to mine, kissing me deeply enough to stop the air in my lungs. My hands went under his shirt and I stripped it off, with only a split-second break in the kiss. His leg hooked the back of my knees, ready to drop me to the floor, then he checked himself just in time and carefully lowered me.
My shirt and bra went next, yanked off as one. His fingers went to my breast, kneading and pulling, fingers tugging the nipple hard and insistent. An ache rippled through me. As I gasped, something warm and sticky trickled out.
"What the--?" I began.
Clay laughed. "That's new."
He cupped my breast in his palms and squeezed, his fingers digging in, pulling me to him in another kiss. My hands slid down his belly to his fly. I snapped the button open, tugged his jeans down over his hips, then reached inside his boxers.
My fingers wrapped around him, my grip tight. He reared up to give me better access as he growled and nipped my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. A few tight, urgent tugs and he growled again, this time warning me to stop before it was too late.
"So soon?" I said, pulling back and arching an eyebrow.
Another growl, sharper, and his hands dove to my waist, yanking down my elasticized jeans and panties so fast I heard a seam give way. His fingers plunged into me without so much as an exploratory touch and I jumped, then arched back, snarling and pushing into his hand. A few thrusts and I dug my fingers into the carpet, back arching higher.
"Stop," I hissed between clenched teeth.
He arched a brow. "So soon?"
I reared up, growling, and grabbed him around the neck in a bruising kiss, fingers digging into his shoulders so hard I knew he'd bear the marks in the morning. He only laughed and kissed me back.
