Reese

“He’s so intense, Trisha. Seriously. Every time we’ve seen each other, it ends up being completely physical.” I flush, my cheeks burning as I confess.

“And this is a bad thing … why?” She doesn’t even look up at me from her seated stretch. Frowning, she toys with a hole in the fabric of her running tights. “Damn, I just bought these.”

I shake my head. She’s not going to understand. Trisha is used to wham-bam-thank-you encounters. As we begin our jog around Green Lake, I try to take my mind off Galen. The warm air coats my skin like an uncomfortable blanket as we run. Wisps of hair have escaped the tie I pulled it into, and the strands tickle my temples. The feeling reminds me of Galen’s lips ghosting over my skin. Dammit.

“Ask him on a date.” Trisha’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and not a moment too soon.

“What?”

“A date. You, him, a meal with a table separating your pelvises.”

My ears burn. “Trisha!”

“What? You can talk about sex, but I can’t?” She gestures at the nearly empty path. “No one is around to hear us.”

Shaking off my embarrassment, I pick up the pace, pushing us hard enough so we can’t talk and run at the same time.

Later that day, her words still tumble around in my head. A date. No contact between pelvises. The idea has merit. As I push my cart through the grocery store, I ponder how to approach Galen with this idea. I don’t exactly have a way to contact him. It’s not like we plan our encounters; they just happen.

My phone rings, and for a moment, that thrill of anticipation races up my spine. Maybe it’s Galen.

“Hello?”

“Reese, it’s Jay.”

I deflate a little at the sound of my friend on the other end of the line. And then I frown. I know why he’s calling me. He’d somehow roped me into doing a half marathon with him at the end of November.

“Hey,” I say, not disguising the dread that has taken hold in my stomach.

His laugh flows over the line. “You don’t sound so happy to hear from me. I’m offended.”

“Sorry. I know why you’re calling, and I hate you a little bit because of it.”

“Wimp. Come on, you know you want to go thirteen-point-one with me.”

I fight my smile. He’s a charmer. If he wasn’t gay, I would probably fall in love with him for that alone.

“No. I really don’t.”

“Shut up. We need to start training together so we know how we each pace ourselves.”

He’s right, but that means I’m really going to have to focus and work hard.

“Ugh, fine. When do you want to start?”

Our conversation continues through the rest of my shopping trip. Jay gives me a moment-by-moment replay of his latest date, even as I attempt to hang up. By the time I finally end the call and hit the parking lot, the sun has set, bathing everything in a beautiful hazy blue darkness. Walking to my car, I start mentally planning my night in, dinner, maybe a date with Jake Gyllenhaal on Netflix. A prickling awareness builds between my shoulder blades as I unlock my trunk. Someone is watching me. Uncomfortable, I begin moving a little faster, my heartbeat picking up speed.

“Reese,” a deep baritone calls out to me, sending shivers of recognition down my spine.

Turning my head, I follow the sound and see Galen closing the door of a sleek black sports car. His dark hair is slicked back, showing off his strong features. Those cheekbones. Damn. I could be less superficial and appreciate his personality, but I’m not going to. He’s so fucking sexy. Even the way he moves sends a wave of desire over me. A soft smile plays across his lips as he approaches me, and it does funny things to my heart.

“Galen, hi,” I say too brightly in an attempt to cover my ogling. “What are you doing here?”

Cocking an eyebrow, he gives me a disbelieving look and glances at the bags in my cart. “Groceries.”

I’m such an idiot. Why can’t I be a normal, well-spoken woman when he’s around? It’s like all the blood rushes from my head to my vagina as soon as I see him.

Gaze roaming my body, his expression changes from playful to heated. I wish I’d put on something nicer than yoga pants and my loose tank that proudly states Bazinga!

“What are your plans later?” he asks.

“Uh, dinner and Netflix,” I admit.

His lips quirk up in a mischievous grin. “I can think of a much more interesting way to entertain you.”

Taking three big steps, he closes the distance between us and runs his fingers over my exposed collarbone and up my neck.

Holy hell. His hips press against mine, making me think of my conversation with Trisha. Backing away, I return to loading my groceries in my car. Galen immediately grabs two bags and does the same. His arm brushes mine as we pass each other, and I tense. His stare finds mine in the dim light of the parking lot, and he steps close to me once again. Those lips of his are only inches away, and I want nothing more than to feel them on mine. Honestly, I want a lot more than a kiss, but I remember what Trisha suggested.

“We should go on a date,” I blurt. Zero finesse over here.

His eyebrows rise, and amusement colors his features. “Should we?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “It seems like we both suck at the one-night-stand thing. Maybe we should just try dating.”

Nodding, he places the last bag in my car. “Fine. I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

I open my mouth to protest, but close it almost instantly. Why fight it? “Dinner. With tables.”

What is wrong with me?

He laughs. “Okay, tables it is.”

Needing to touch him, I place a small, awkward peck on his cheek before grabbing my cart with the intent of pushing it back to the store. Cool hands cover mine, bringing my gaze to his amazing brown eyes.

“I’ll take it.” He winks at me before walking away, taking my basket with him. “Two hours, Reese. Be ready,” he calls back over his shoulder.

My focus snaps back from where it had settled on his ass at his words. Clearing my suddenly dry throat, I manage to get out some kind of noise of agreement.

Tables. Definitely.

* * *

Galen

A date. I haven’t been on a fucking date in … maybe ever. It was nearly impossible for me to control my raging need to have her in the parking lot of that damn grocery store. I don’t even need to buy groceries, but I’d seen her driving and couldn’t resist. This fucking Watcher has turned me into a stalker.

I chuckle to myself as I consider her ludicrous idea that a table will keep us safe from each other. She doesn’t realize that there’s nothing on this earth that will keep me from her. I get back in my car once I’m sure she’s driven away. It’s fine. If that’s what she wants, I’m willing to go through the motions.

On my way home, I stop by Wild Ginger to make a reservation. The hostess laughs when I insist on a secluded table during the dinner rush.

“I’m sorry, sir. Even midweek, a seven o’clock reservation is just not possible.”

Smiling, I turn my gaze on her and pulse just a little bit of my power. “Can you check again?” I ask, locking gazes with her.

With a soft gasp, she begins typing. “Oh, look at that. We’ve got one table available. Mister—”

“Turner,” I say, taking her hand and pressing a chaste kiss over her knuckles. Her cheeks flush, and I know I should be feeling the rush of hunger, but it doesn’t come.

As I walk back to my car, I try to figure out why I’m acting so strangely. I can’t think of anyone but Reese. At the mere fleeting thought, my cock lengthens and my fangs tingle in my mouth. Is this the Watcher, or me? It feels like me. The drive home gives me a chance to get ahold of myself. I need to be more in control if I want to avoid hurting her.

Devin is waiting for me when I walk through the door. He’s dressed to go out hunting, looking like a goddamn rock star in his leather pants and matching jacket. I know he’ll want me to go with him.

“Where have you been? I need a wingman.”

“Grocery shopping,” I answer.

He laughs and stands up, grabbing his phone. “Hilarious. Come on. Pioneer Square should be ripe for the picking tonight.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a date in less than an hour.”

He cocks an eyebrow and stares me down. “With Reese?”

It’s hard for me to look at him. He’s like an older brother, always judging and usually right. “Aye.”

“What’s wrong with you? I told you, you’ll kill her.”

Tugging at my hair in frustration, I pace the floor. “I’m not sure if that’s true. If the Watcher needs her in order to feed, why would that kill her? What will happen after she dies?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not the fucking Watcher authority. Is it really worth it to test out your theory?”

“I don’t think I can stay away. Even if I wanted to.”

Shaking his head, he opens the door and shouts over his shoulder, “You’re an idiot.”

The door slams as he leaves, and I’m pretty sure he’s right. I’ll never forgive myself if I kill her, but I can’t fight the pull I feel to be near her.

Less than an hour later, my car idles in the parking lot of her apartment complex. Just being close to her sends my blood racing straight to my dick. I’m afraid to get out of the car. I might not be able to keep from picking her up, tossing her over my shoulder, and locking us in her bedroom. Pulling out my phone, I send her a text message.

I’m in the parking lot.

It’s not the most gallant I’ve ever been, but I want to prove her wrong. We don’t have to be separated by a physical barrier to keep our hands off one another.

Two minutes after I text her, she breezes out of the building. My mouth runs dry at the sight of her. A deep crimson dress hugs her lush curves, the low cut of the neckline showing off her breasts as though they are delectable treats reserved for me. I swallow past the lump in my throat as she approaches. Stepping out of the car, I open the door for her, resisting the powerful urge to crush my lips to hers and taste her mouth.

“You look …” I struggle to find a word to describe how I see her, finally settling on, “breathtaking.”

Her cheeks flush a bright pink, and she looks away before tossing her long dark hair over one shoulder. In that moment, I’m hungry for three things. Her blood, her body, and, curiously, her heart.

“Thanks.” Her husky voice sends a ripple of arousal through me.

I grit my teeth as I fight my desire on the drive to the restaurant, my hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. I hope she doesn’t notice the shallow breaths I’m taking. I can smell her arousal and can barely resist the need to pull the car over and run my tongue along her sweet pussy.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

Clearing my throat, I pull the car into a parking lot a few blocks away from our destination, hoping the fresh air will help my control. “Wild Ginger. Do you know it?”

She laughs, a soft musical sound. “Yeah. I love it. Asian fusion at its finest. How’d you get a reservation? They’re always packed.”

Shrugging, I play it cool. “I’ve got my ways.”

I couldn’t care less where we eat. I’ll be faking my way through the meal. Throwing the car into Park, I step free of the pheromone-filled torture chamber and breathe in the cool air. The scent of the city clears my head as I open her door and take her hand. Focus solely on me, she takes her lower lip between her teeth and sucks in a tight breath.

Shit. I can’t stand it.

My hand is wrapped around her nape, pulling her against me before I can stop myself. I crush my mouth to hers, tongue pressing past her lips so I can get a taste. My fangs threaten to descend as my hunger swells along with my cock. I would stop, but she melts into me, her fingers gripping my back as I push her up against the car. The kiss, already something primal, changes into mindless, frenzied passion. I’m dimly aware that if I don’t stop us now, I’ll be fucking her right here, out in the open. Pulling away, I take a few steadying breaths and grin at her.

“Fucking hell, Reese. If you wanted to keep me away from you, you really shouldn’t have worn that damn dress.”

A laugh escapes her as she straightens the offending clothing. “Sorry. Here I was thinking you could control yourself.”

I shake my head. “Not when you look like that. If this is a test, consider me a failure.”

We walk slowly down the darkened Seattle streets. I’m torn between wanting to get to the restaurant and wishing the walk was longer. She’s mesmerizing. The way she lights up when she talks about music she loves, the soft hum of appreciation she offers when I give in to my need to touch the bare skin of her shoulder. I swear, if she gives me that heated look again, I’m going to lose it.

As we wait for the light to change at a crosswalk, I snake my arm around her waist and pull her close to me. I can see the moment her nipples pebble under the thin fabric of the dress. She wants me. One shuddering breath from her has me practically dragging her to the alley closest to us. Taking her mouth, I shove her dress up over her hips and lift her, pressing her back against the brick behind us. She moans into my mouth and I can’t stop. My hand runs up her thigh, higher, higher, until I find bare flesh where panties should be.

“Oh, fuck,” I growl. “You’re a bad girl wrapped in an innocent package. That’s cruel.”

She doesn’t answer me, jutting her hips forward in search of my fingers instead. Sinking first one and then two fingers inside her, I groan at the slick heat. I pump back and forth slowly, loving the musky scent of her undeniable arousal. My erection strains against the fly of my trousers, begging to be freed, stroked, sucked. Pressing my thumb to the rise of her clit, I rub her over and over until her walls get wetter and she starts clenching around me. I can tell she’s close. Soft cries escape her, as I kiss the column of her throat. Her breath runs over my ear as she starts to come, and I yank my pants down, releasing my shaft and burying myself inside her in one hard shove of my hips.

I should be worried about hurting her, but at the moment, all I can think about is chasing my release. Her pussy grips me hard as she climaxes while I pound into her, not caring who sees us. With a harsh groan, my balls tighten and my orgasm rushes through me, making my knees shake as I pour myself into her.

Shock waves roll through me as she continues to pulse around me until our breathing steadies. I set her feet on the ground, and my hands tremble as I help her right her clothes and try to get my bearings. Fucking hell.

“This is why we needed a table,” she says on a sigh.

I laugh and wrap my arm around her. “I guess you’re right.”

We walk only a few paces before she stops and brings a hand to her head, grimacing.

“Are you all right?” I ask, turning her in my arms.

She’s pale, mouth pinched with pain. “My head. I’ve got a splitting headache. I think I’m having a migraine.”

My chest tightens. I’m such a selfish asshole. I did this to her. “Let me take you home, a ghra.”

Nodding, she walks slowly beside me to the car. Devin was right. I have to let her go.