Private detective Jake McDonnell has been hired to make sure Maria Rodriguez isn’t involved in illegal activities. He’s certain she’s on the up and up until he catches her heading to the seedier side of town. He follows, curious why she’d be walking into a dimly lit warehouse. What he discovers will leave his senses reeling and his body aching.
And your R-rated Excerpt for Eyes of the Wolf:
As much as I didn’t want to believe Maria was involved in illegal activities, good, honest people didn’t hang out in the warehouse district on Friday night.
I sat in the car watching her walk through what could easily pass as the worst part of town to a door that didn’t even have proper hinges or a knob. She knocked. The thin piece of metal scraped the ground as it opened. She spoke to a man in a suit and tie, then disappeared inside.
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel debating. She’d tell her mother to fire me if I tried to follow her. But, hell, I’d be out of a job anyway if she were murdered by gang members. Driving into the shadows, I parked and rushed to the door.
The metal sheet scraped open at the sound of my knock and a man looked me over. “Password?”
“Uh,” I stuttered out. “I don’t…I don’t know.”
He jerked his head toward the darkness behind me, silently telling me to get lost.
I pulled my wallet out, and he chuckled. “You don’t have enough in there to get by me. Get outta here.”
As the door closed, I tried to get a glimpse inside but the only thing I could see was black cloth blocking the view inside the warehouse.
Maria was safe. At least I knew that. She was inside a secure building with a guy the size of a sumo wrestler blocking the door. Nobody was getting in that shouldn’t. That was only mildly comforting considering I had no idea who could get in.
Now that I knew she was in a secure location, I told myself to return to the car and wait for her. But if I didn’t have a clear report for Mrs. Rodriguez on what her daughter was up to—especially now that I had my doubts about Maria’s actions—I had a feeling the woman would have my balls in a jar.
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I walked away casually, but the moment I neared the corner of the building, I glanced back. No one was in sight, so I rounded into the dark-as-fuck alley and pulled my keys from the pocket. The flashlight attached to my keyring was small, but efficient enough to keep me from tripping over discarded bottles and cans. I flashed the light over the side of the building as I went. Not a single damned window.
I was about to give up when a door farther down the alley opened. A guy came stumbling out and lit a cigarette. The lighter illuminated the mask covering the top half of his face. I was thrown for a moment, not expecting that, but then a woman came out of the door and threw herself at his back. She didn’t close the door behind her, letting light stream into the dimly lit passage.
I stood, motionless, not wanting to get caught. As I watched, the woman—also wearing a mask that hid the top of her face—pushed the man to the wall and dropped to her knees in front of him.
His pants were down in a flash, and his cock was in her mouth even faster. He stuck on hand into her hair as he smoked with the other. After a few moments, he tossed the cigarette aside and used both hands to hold her head as he fucked her mouth. He pumped in and out so hard I was afraid he was going to hurt the woman, but she didn’t seem to mind. When he started to pull away, she gripped his hips and drove his prick down her throat again.
Sweet Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I got a blowjob like that. My dick twitched in my pants, reminding me that it’d been far too long.
The next time he pulled from the woman, she let him, but only because he yanked her to her feet, shoved her against the wall, and pushed her skirt up. The light streaming out of the open door revealed that the woman wasn’t wearing panties. The man gripped her hips, much like she’d done to him, and rammed himself inside her without so much as a gentle nudge. She grunted, groaned, moaned, and he pounded and called her whore, bitch, and a few other unflattering terms that she seemed to be getting off on.
I debated, only a moment longer, before easing toward them. While they were distracted with their dark-alley mating ritual, I slipped inside the open door to a room where masked people were preparing food. I couldn’t call it a kitchen because it wasn’t one. There were tables—prep stations—but not a kitchen. And the people there weren’t cooks. They were putting premade finger foods on trays and opening bottles of booze, refilling glasses, and hurriedly filing in and out of the room.
“Sir,” someone called with a thick accent that I couldn’t place.
My heart skipped a few beats. Busted.
I turned to face him. He, too, was wearing a mask. What the fuck? He waved his hand in front of his face, but he didn’t look at me. I didn’t understand what he meant until he glanced up, then quickly looked away again.
“You’re not supposed to take your mask off, sir.”
Oh. “I, uh… The string broke. I tried to fix it, but…”
He nodded toward the corner. “Take one of ours. We have extras.”
Even the waitstaff wore masks? I snagged one from the pile. It wasn’t nearly as extravagant as the couple in the alley, but it was apparently enough. I slid the cheap plastic mold on and nodded my thanks before walking by the tables. I followed a masked waitress out and stopped in my tracks.
Well-dressed women and men, some in suits like Ms. Rodriguez had been, others in evening gowns and tuxes, and some in more casual attire like the two in the alley, were mingling. All were in masks, all drinking, eating finger foods, and acting as casual and comfortable.
That wasn’t what shocked me. What shocked me was that intermingling with the well-dressed and masked partygoers were naked men and woman, some standing around talking, some being fondled, some outright fucking on tables and chairs and against walls. And no one seemed to be bothered in the least.