Okay, so the guy wears leather Speedos. No big deal. She focused on his thighs. He had two more bite marks, one on the outside of his left leg, just above the knee, and the other on the inside of his right thigh, high up. She grimaced, acknowledging it was lucky the guy didn’t wear boxers. That bite was so close to his kinky shorts that the dog might have nailed his nuts if they’d been dangling a little in looser material.

“What’s your name?” She used most of the remaining shirt to wrap around his thigh by his knee. He shifted the leg, lifting it for her to slide her hands under him to tie off the material. “Do you feel all right?” His skin was hot to the touch. “I think you’re running a fever.”

He said nothing. Her gaze lifted to that massive, bulky chest to watch it rise and fall slowly as he breathed. Her gaze lingered there before she forced herself to look away, feeling a little perverted at the inappropriate thoughts that flashed through her mind. The guy was total beefcake. She was doing the math and he wasn’t a druggie. He had to be in the best shape she’d ever seen. A guy would have to practically live in a gym to get the muscle mass he’d obtained. Definitely DEA.

“Did you catch the part about me being with animal control? Someone should have warned you guys about Jimmy’s guard dogs if you were going to scope out his place. I’m really glad you’re trying to clean that mess up but I’m so sorry you were hurt.” She paused, noticing that he still wasn’t moving. Has he passed out? “Mister?”

She stared up at his face but couldn’t make out much of it. His hair still covered most of his features and what his long hair didn’t hide, his bandaged wrist did. She studied the last of his wounds, the bloody one on the inside of his upper thigh. She hesitated and inched closer, leaning over to get a better look. She winced.

He’d need stitches on that one for sure. She turned, staring at her bag. There was nothing in there to use for that wound. He had muscular thighs and they were big around.

One glance down and she knew what would work.

She quickly removed her wet bra and put on her lightweight jacket to cover her breasts. The guy seemed oblivious that she’d just flashed him. She snapped two buttons to keep the jacket closed.

“Lift your leg a little so I can wrap this around your thigh.”

He followed her instructions and she used the last remnants of her destroyed work shirt to make a pad, then tied the straps of her bra together to hold it in place. She glanced up and down him, sure she’d done her best to stop the bleeding and make him comfortable.

“I’m going to leave you now and go for help. I might be gone for an hour but it shouldn’t be longer than that.” She glanced up at the sky, wincing. Darkness would fall before the paramedics could hike in to get him. “I’m leaving you my flashlight and my Taser gun. You’re down and bleeding. We have some dangerous animals in this area that might scent your blood. They tend to stick close to water. I’m assuming you know how to use a Taser gun? I’ll leave you my mace too. You should be fine. Just don’t move around. I got the bleeding stopped. I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll just put on my pants and boots then be off.”

He moved suddenly, sitting up faster than she thought an injured man could. A snarl came from his parted lips. He threw back his head, his long hair no longer covering his face.

The sight of him shocked her enough that she collapsed onto her ass. He used his uninjured hand to grab her wrist, keeping her from scrambling away from him. She wanted to.

His bone structure was very rugged, with pronounced cheekbones. His nose was wider but flatter than any she’d ever seen. His full lips were parted and revealed the fact that he had vampire teeth. Those two fangs were long and sharp-looking. He looked almost human but she wasn’t fooled.

What the hell is he? Her brain reeled at the possibilities. Is he some kind of human freak of nature? Maybe he is a druggie after all, into serious vampire fetishes. Some crazy people mutilate their bodies with fake teeth and facial implants. A good plastic surgeon could make his nose a different shape and amplify those cheekbones. Or he could be a werewolf. Do they exist? Her gaze lowered to his chest. He just had a little bit of hair there. Wouldn’t werewolves be hairier? Stop it! They don’t exist. Do they?

Lynn tried to jerk away from him but he had an iron grip on her wrist. It didn’t hurt but she couldn’t break free. “Please let me go.” She was glad she’d found her voice.

He growled and shook his head.

Her heart pounded inside her chest, her terror rising. He wasn’t DEA. He was something else, something dangerous. He stood slowly, swaying a little on his feet. The grip on her arm didn’t ease. He tugged, trying to get her to stand too. Her legs refused to work as she realized he had to be about six-three. He had to bend toward her to keep hold of her wrist from his height and his hair fell forward, the damp, silky strands brushing against her arm.

He pulled harder and it forced her to move. She rose on shaky legs, unable to do anything else. Shock helped, her body seeming to go into autopilot. He backed up, forcing her to follow him toward the thick line of trees.

“Let me go. Please. Don’t hurt me.”

He shook his head.

She wasn’t sure if that meant he wouldn’t let her go or that he wouldn’t hurt her. Either way, he backed up, forcing her to follow him.

“Let me at least grab my pants and shoes,” she pleaded. The jacket fell lower than her panties but not by much. Most of her legs were exposed.

He shook his head again.

This isn’t good.

Chapter Two

The scary man led Lynn about twenty feet into the tree line. The small clearing revealed his discarded clothing and a bag similar to a backpack. He stumbled a few times but never broke his hold on her wrist. He bent, delving his free hand into the open black bag.

“Please let me go. I’ll get you help. You need stitches and medical care.” She tried to keep calm but it was tough to do. He wasn’t talking, only making soft groans and growling noises. He had to be in a lot of pain.

He lifted a short black rope from the bag. It was only about twenty inches long. He turned to face her and she stared up into his unusually bright eyes. He had almost a foot of height on her, but he was weak. She could attack him, though he’d already killed four vicious guard dogs. Now she knew how he’d done it. He had a lethal mouth.