Feral (Wolf Ranch #3) - Renee Rose Page 0,3
barged into my house, and I was fantasizing about the size of his dick. Of using it instead of my toy to get off.
I was losing it. The only good news was that I’d hopefully snuffed out his interest. I pulled a gun on him and had been bitchy as hell. Rob Wolf probably wouldn’t be coming back. Had he honestly thought I needed protecting? I wasn’t sure if I should find that appalling or sweet. It didn’t matter either way.
I was here for the job. I had to focus on the investigation. On Jett Markle.
I had to blend in though, and I sure hadn’t done that with the welcoming committee from the Wolf Ranch. I grabbed said dildo and went across the hall to the bathroom to clean and sterilize it before tossing it back on the bed. It made no sense to put it away. I’d have to use it again later, this time to ease the ache Rob Wolf brought about.
“Fuck,” I whispered, pushing the confrontation away. I’d been in tenser scenes than that. I needed to get a grip. And an orgasm. I groaned at myself.
I still needed to clean out the drawers in the dresser to make room for my things… clothes and not just my small sex toy collection. I was a loner and a woman has needs. As for the rest of the place, I would’ve liked to clean out the whole house, but I didn’t want to overstep. This place wasn’t mine. I wasn’t Natalie Shefield. I was Willow Johnson, DEA agent.
The real homeowner would arrive when the case was over, and I couldn’t very well tell her I’d donated her uncle’s things, even though that’s exactly what should be done for most of it. The house hadn’t been updated since the sixties, and I had to be thankful it was too damned warm to need hot water. The place needed work—a gross understatement—and I’d have to tackle some of it while I was here or else it would seem strange.
I pulled my damp hair up into a ponytail and slipped on a pair of cowgirl boots to go with my jeans and tank top. It was time to meet the neighbor, and not the sexy one. I was cranky because while Rob Wolf was a tall drink of water—as they said in Montana—I hadn’t gotten off. He’d interrupted me right before the big finish, and now, I was not only hot but horny too.
Not wanting to go to Markle’s place completely unarmed, I slid a small pocket knife into my back pocket. I’d rather take my Glock, but that wasn’t an option. A knife I could explain away but not a pistol.
I picked up my cell about to text my boss an update, when he called. Speak of the devil… which made me an employee of the devil.
“Johnson here,” I answered.
“Yeah, what’s your status?” No hello, no how’s it going in Montana?
“I’ve arrived on location and, ah, settled in.” Of course, I didn’t quite get to finish that settling in, thanks to Rob Wolf. “I’m about to go to Markle’s for a friendly introduction.”
“I still don’t like it,” he grumbled.
It worked out perfectly that Natalie Shefield had inherited the property next door to Jett Markle but had yet to move in, meaning no one in the area had met her. We couldn’t have asked for a better setup. Finding someone to replace Natalie, a twenty-six-year-old woman with ties to the state, had been narrowed down to me. Only me. I’d lived in Montana until the day after high school graduation, knew how people rolled around here. Regardless, Vaughn thought sending a female agent alone on a job was a disaster waiting to happen. He didn’t have another agent to spare to play house in Cooper Valley, Montana. Honestly, I didn’t want anyone cramping my style.
There was one advantage to being female in the DEA. It was, well, being female. I knew from my research that Markle was registered on several dating sites and cut a swath through the eligible women in town. He wasn’t going to pass on his pretty new neighbor. A single one, which was the nail in the coffin for me having a partner on this undercover job. It wasn’t as if any one of my male colleagues could show a little cleavage and sweet talk his way into Markle’s house to look for evidence of drug running.
Getting friendly with him was going to be the easiest and