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his cock.
“Like a she-wolf in heat, but there’s a very distinct human bouquet, like strawberries.
And you are very wet.”
    “You can smell that?” She felt herself blushing.
    “Yes.”
    She licked the pre-cum from the tip of his cock and then paused.
“So,” she said. “What’s your answer?”
    She took his cock in her mouth. He moaned and buried his hands
in her hair, pulling it back from her face so he could watch her. She slid her lips
down his cock, enveloping it, her mouth soft and wet. “Mmmm?” she said, mouth completely
full. She moved slowly up and down the shaft, grasping the bottom in her fist. She
could hear them both breathing, so loud in the quiet of the night. The water was
still now. She wondered if the people on shore could hear her breathing, the wet
sucking sounds as she moved her mouth, the Mountie’s moans as she worked faster
and faster.
    Then she stopped.
    And remain stopped.
    She slowly, very slowly, moved her mouth until his cock was entirely
free of her. She blew on it lightly, sending some of the cold November air to chill
him. “If you want to finish,” she said in a low, teasing voice, “I suggest you let
me on the case.” And then she did the most overt thing she could think of, drawing
her tongue slowly along her bottom lip. “I’m very hungry, but I suppose I could
find something else to put in my mouth.”
    “Fine,” he said, snarling a little, and she could see the wolf
lurking beneath his calm gray eyes. “You’re my new partner. Try not to get yourself
killed.”
    “Excellent decision.”
    She lowered her head and took him inside her mouth again, moving
slowly this time, teasing him. He leaned back, thrusting his hips and holding her
down with a gentle hand in her hair until he lost control and came. She sucked him
dry, then swallowed and pulled his face to hers, kissing him hard, the slightly
bitter aftertaste of his semen on her tongue.
    When they were finished there was nothing more to say; they’d
now come to an understanding. She zipped up his pants and he started the boat again,
heading for shore in companionable silence.

Chapter Four
     
    Entering the hostel was like an assault on Noire’s senses, but
she felt a little more equipped to deal with it now that she knew the man standing
behind her felt the same way.
    They had walked to the hostel together after Cam docked the boat.
It was past midnight and the waterfront had quieted down, but a thirty-minute walk
north to the Entertainment District of downtown Toronto was a different matter—the
sidewalks were crowded with shivering twenty-somethings and wannabe-twenty-somethings
in club wear, and the ground beneath their precarious heels reverberated with bass
from dance clubs on both sides of the street.
    Noire had been grateful when they’d ducked down a quiet side
street. Pale brick houses ran up the street on one side like a line of schoolgirls
in uniform. Each large house contained several rooms housing backpackers and other
frugal travelers from around the world. Noire herself was staying here in a private
room; before her death, Fawn had bunked down with seven other women.
    She led Cam to the steps of the first house adorned with a large
Canadian flag flapping violently in the November wind. He held up a finger and pulled
out his cell. He didn’t need to speak for her to know what he was thinking—the Mountie
was calling in to the local team, checking with the police for updates. The wind
carried his voice away from her, so she waited.
    She was thankful for Cam’s jacket, which she’d put on again after
leaving their boat. Looking at him with muscles tight under his uniform shirt made
her shiver, both from the cold and the excitement that this man was actually interested
in her—the plain, too-strong park warden.
    Cam closed the phone and Noire waited expectantly. He shook his
head. “They’re still searching the missing persons’ reports for someone who fits
the description of our latest