Primal Obsession by Susan Vaughan Read Free Book Online Page B

maneuvered until she held the towel out like a cape. “Like this?”
    Man, there was that navel again, a sweet little innie in a smooth white belly. His gaze cruised to her mouth. How soft were her lips? He longed to run his tongue along her full lower lip and taste her. His blood rushed south.
    “Sca-a-ary. Man, if I was a bear, I’d high-tail it.” He just couldn’t help it; he slid his hands around her narrow waist and pulled her close. He’d promised Ben he wouldn’t have sex with her. A few kisses wouldn’t hurt, might take the edge off, like pre-game warm-ups. “But I’m not a bear.”
    Her eyelashes drifted lower as she tilted her head back to look up at him. Her lips parted, inviting his kiss. “O-o-oh, Sam?” Her voice was breathy, sexy, inviting.
    “Yes?” He circled his thumbs over the silk of her bare midriff. He lowered his head.
    “You’re no bear. You’re a shark. And if you want to keep the family jewels intact, let me go now .”
    Her voice floated so low and sweet to his ears that at first he didn’t comprehend her words. He lifted his head and backed up, releasing her. “That was a dirty trick.”
    “Merely a defensive tactic.” She draped the towel around her shoulders like a royal mantle and stalked off.
    Annie exhaled a shaky breath at her narrow escape. Her skin tingled where he’d caressed her, her nipples tightened, and her heart clattered. So much for resisting her attraction to Sam Kincaid. The man was walking temptation—hard body, killer grin, and more than a conman’s share of charm. She’d wanted to kiss him, oh, she’d wanted. She still wanted.
    But she didn’t want the distraction from studying her Hunter notes. Involvement with another jock who thought he was sex on a stick?
    No, thank you. She didn’t do casual. Her emotions would sneak in, and her heart would get broken.
     
    ***
     
    Augusta, Maine
     
    Justin tossed his necktie on the conference table. Wile E. Coyote flattened again. After what he’d seen this afternoon in Baxter State Park, that’s exactly how he felt. Only he wasn’t sure he could bounce back like a cartoon critter. Hikers had stumbled over another murdered young woman’s shallow grave. That made six. With each victim, the mutilations and violation increased. To what depths could the sick bastard’s depravity sink?
    A glance at the bland sameness of the Major Crimes Unit headquarters calmed him. The state of Maine sure knew how to take care of the MCU. The brick building had all the ambience of a warehouse. He wrinkled his nose at the stale coffee, stale bodies, and musty files. A warehouse might smell better.
    At least this conference room, designated as the Hunter Case Command Post, had all the information the investigators had collected. A new phone bank, computers, and other machines kept them on top of developments. His gaze was drawn to the pictures of the victims and other missing women splashed across a bulletin board. Which one was she?
    He collapsed in a swivel chair and opened the top shirt button. With the heels of his hands, he massaged his eyes.
    “You look like you could use this as much as me.” FBI Special Agent Mark Tavani set a mug of coffee in front of him.
    Justin sucked down a swallow. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
    Tavani flopped on a metal folding chair that squeaked in protest. He took a tentative sip from his coffee mug. “This crap is worse than the industrial sludge brewed at Quantico.”
    Justin blinked at the FBI profiler. Was that a joke? The man hardly ever cracked a smile. And yet Justin liked him, liked his professionalism and candor. “We try.”
    Tavani was about Justin’s age, mid-thirties, maybe older. Silver threaded his dark hair, and deep lines made furrows between his brows and around his mouth. Maybe caused by the horrors he catalogued and analyzed every day.
    The two men drank in silence until another detective approached. “Yo, Wylde, Bonnie asked me to give this to you. Just came