Maximum Witch - By Jodi Redford Page 0,17

contrast between the softness of a woman’s breasts and the firmer, pebbled tips of her nipples. He loved the texture of both beneath his fingers, against his tongue. But most of all, he adored savoring the wet silkiness of a woman’s pussy as he went down on her. He could easily spend hours doing that for Willa, if she let him.

“Shit.” He gritted the word through his teeth. These kinds of thoughts were doing nothing to cool him down, damn it. Plunging his hands into the soapy water, he ruthlessly scrubbed the plates and utensils until they gleamed before setting them on the rack to drip dry. That chore completed, he walked down the hall toward his office. The bedroom was dark and the faint sound of light snores carried to his ears, making him grin. For someone who’d carried on like a cranky five-year-old refusing to go to sleep, she sure as hell fell into snooze land fast.

He sat at his desk and powered on his computer. He’d put off logging in some reports earlier in the week. Might as well get the damn things done with. But halfway through pulling up the file folder, his mind became distracted by thoughts of Willa. Not exactly any surprise there. Only this time, he couldn’t shake the question of why the leviathan had snatched her. Granted, maybe the beast had just been in it for sport, or an easy kill.

But that was the thing. He’d run into the leviathan miles away from the creatures’ preferred territory. Something had lured the beast close to shore.

Willa?

The possibility stirred an uneasy brew in his gut. Why would the leviathan have wanted her?

His finger stopped hovering over the mouse, and he clicked off his current program and opened the file labeled “unknown attacks” instead. These were the unsolved cases, where the perpetrator of the crime was yet to be determined or brought to trial. He spent a good forty-five minutes scanning the entries, looking for evidence that might hint at a leviathan being responsible for the acts. A few cold cases presented possible leads, but each of those were at least two decades old.

Sinking back in his chair, he rubbed his brow. Boone was right about one thing. He despised unfilled blanks. More and more, it looked like he’d never know why the leviathan had chosen Willa for its victim. Not unless he tracked the son of a bitch down and threatened to beat it within an inch of its life.

Sounded like an excellent plan.

One that’d have to wait for another day. Gusting a heavy breath, he powered off the computer and stood, stretching. A series of pops cracked in his tensed joints. Grimacing, he abandoned the office and strode into the bedroom. A beam of milky moonlight pooled along the bed, illuminating the gentle curve of Willa’s shoulder and the slope of her breasts. The shirt had bunched tight beneath her, showcasing her hard little nipples. White-hot desire kicked him square in the groin.

Jesus. What was it about her that made him revert to a fifteen-year-old with a constant boner? There was no question she was cute and sexy as hell, but he wasn’t one to suffer irrational lust like this.

Corking his frustrated groan, he strode to the bathroom and shut the door. At first he had no intention beyond brushing his teeth, but the residual salty grit clinging to him convinced him that a good scrub down was also in order. Much as he loved the ocean, his human skin tended to get itchy real fast. He shoved the vinyl curtain aside and dialed on the shower before stripping off his sweats and jumping beneath the spray. Water pummeled his exhausted muscles, ripping a moan of pleasure from his chest.

Hot steam enveloped him in a caressing cloud. Even on a normal day, when he didn’t have a luscious woman lying in his bed, he tended to get aroused by extreme heat—a condition inherent to his species. Knowing Willa rested on the other side of the door, her silky skin warming his sheets, only intensified his ardor.

Before he could halt it, the image of her nipples sprang into his mind. His cock swelled and he fisted the base of his shaft, a mental picture of sliding its length between her breasts slamming into him. Planting his other fist on the wet tile, he pumped his cock, his hips rocking into the motion. In his fantasy, Willa’s tongue flicked teasingly at the crown, stringing out