Galen

I can’t breathe. Even though I’ve not needed air to keep me alive for the last century, the feeling of being breathless is unsettling. Staring down at Reese, on her knees before me, a questioning crease between her brows, had made me feel like there was a crushing weight on my chest. Even now, as I stand over her bed and stare at her naked body splayed out like an offering, I feel the strange pressure.

“I think I need to do that again soon,” she announces as she licks her lips and crooks a finger at me.

There it is again, that breathlessness. It’s not the Watcher, I’m sure of that. This feeling leaves me vaguely panicky. This is me and nothing else.

“I’m sure we can arrange that.” I smile because I don’t know what else to do.

“Take off your shirt.” It’s an order, and that commanding tone makes me want to remind her who is in charge.

Crawling up the bed, I press her knees apart and trail one finger along her instep. She giggles and jerks away.

“Stop! That tickles.”

I can’t help but smile as I circle her ankle and she continues laughing and squirming.

“Galen! I’m going to kick you if you don’t stop. I’m serious.”

Replacing my finger with my lips, I feel a wave of pride wash over me as her giggles turn to sighs. She tenses again almost immediately, but I know this time it’s not because I’m tickling her. My tongue travels up her leg, tasting the sweat on her skin. A moan escapes her when I reach her knee and give a little nip.

“Oh God,” she whispers.

Until now, I’ve only offered her the barest of touches. Her knees are shaking in what I can only guess is anticipation. I glance up her body at her flushed chest, neck, and cheeks. She needs me. The Watcher roars to life at that idea. My cock presses, hard and thick against the mattress, begging to be inside her.

Pushing the fallen angel’s influence away, I focus on Reese and her pleasure. I need her to come because of me, not the Watcher. My hands move up her thighs, spreading her even wider. Her pussy is beautiful. Wet and ready to take me in. One finger circles her swollen clit, barely touching, but she cries out and arches her back.

I can’t take it anymore. I have to taste her sweetness. Dipping my head, I blow a stream of cool air over her before touching my tongue to the tender flesh. She cries out my name, and I press my cock into the bed, needing some kind of friction.

I lick her, swirling my tongue over her sensitive nub, sucking it hard and then softly before adding my fingers. I fuck her with my mouth and hand until she’s moaning and tugging on my hair. Then, as her pleasure crests, my fangs descend and I lose all control. Fingers still buried inside her tight channel, I sink my teeth into her femoral artery. Almost instantly, her walls clench around my fingers, drenching them in her arousal, forcing my own orgasm to come barreling up my spine. She screams in pleasure, the sound almost a sob.

I drink deeply, savoring the rich flavor of her blood, needing it all. My thoughts run red as I home in on her heartbeat. Strong, fast pulses make me sure she’s still with me as I continue feeding. I hear her pulse slow, feel her legs fall lax. I have to stop. I’ve never wanted to before, but I know that if I don’t release her soon, she’ll be past the point of no return. She’ll die. It pains me to slide my fangs out of her body, but the moment I do, I come to my senses. Fear hits me as I listen to her breathe. Did I take too much? Her cheeks are still flushed, chest rising and falling as though she’s only sleeping. Homing in on the sound of her pulse, I sag in relief. The thrum of her heart is slow and steady. I did it. I fed without killing her, and somehow I was able to keep the Watcher at bay.

“Mmm, Galen,” she murmurs. I love it when she says my name in her sleep.

Draping a quilt over her naked body, I press a kiss to her forehead before sliding into bed beside her. I still have my shirt on, and I know she was right to ask me to take it off. I want my skin against hers. Tugging at the fabric, I pull it free, and she wakes, turning to smile at me.

“Hey, your lip’s all better.” Reaching up to cup my cheek, she runs her thumb over my bottom lip where Jay had gotten his sucker punch in. “That’s weird. I could’ve sworn it was split pretty badly.”

I tense momentarily, searching for something to say. “I heal fast,” I answer, and I want to fucking slap myself. No one heals that fast … unless they’re a vampire, or maybe a superhero.

She frowns, but her lids are heavy with sleep. “I guess. Are you staying?”

Am I? I want to. I want to wake up and make her fucking pancakes, but I can’t. I shake my head. “No. I’ve got an early day. I can stay a few more hours, though, if you like.” My chest tightens. I want her to want me.

She snuggles into me, rolling on her side and pressing her back to my front. “I’d like that.”

Fucking hell, how on earth is this going to work?

* * *

Reese

I don’t expect Galen to be there when I wake up. Still, I’m disappointed. My sheets smell like him, and there’s a text waiting for me on my phone. This time, his name is on the screen. Scrolling through my contacts, I find him. He’s added his full name, Galen Turner, along with his email address and phone number. My grin is unstoppable as I read his message.

Thank you for last night. I’ll spend the day wishing I were deep inside you every minute instead of trapped in this dungeon. Lucky for me, I’ve got a souvenir to tide me over.

That puzzles me. Souvenir? Looking around my room, I don’t see anything missing until I start collecting my discarded clothes from last night. Bra, shirt, pants, socks … He took my panties. That’s perverted. And really hot. I type a quick message to him as I pad out to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Pervert.

I wait, hoping he’ll give me some more. Nothing. I glance at the clock and remember him telling me he had an early day. He must be at work. The idea of him in a suit and tie, sitting behind a desk just doesn’t fit. I wonder what he does for a living. If his house is any indication, he’s not struggling in the financial arena. I look around my shabby apartment. Everything is second, maybe even third hand. Not that I care. I just want to be comfortable and on my own. I left my life in Pennsylvania at eighteen and never plan to go back. I’ll take the Seattle rain, a tiny apartment filled with well-worn furniture, and freedom over affluence and verbal abuse any day.

Trisha startles me. “So, was that Mister Wonderful I saw leaving with a smile on his lips in the wee hours this morning?”

“I sure hope so,” I tease. She’s sprawled on the couch, lights dim and a washcloth over her face. “You okay?”

Waving a hand at me as if to dismiss my concern, she sits up and groans. “Once again, vodka got the better of me.”

“Can I do anything to help you? Water? Aspirin?”

“Do we have the stuff for a Bloody Mary?”

I offer her an exaggerated gagging sound. Even if it’s just tomato juice masquerading, that drink is disgusting. “I don’t know why they called it that,” I say as I search the fridge for the jug of V8 I know we have. “Why would anyone want to pretend they’re drinking blood? Gross.”

“Whatever. If it’ll cure this bitch of a hangover, I’ll drink anything.”

I whip up the drink for her as my coffee is brewing and sit at the kitchen table, waiting impatiently for a text from Galen.

“Your phone isn’t going to ring if you stare at it.”

“I’m not waiting for it to ring.”

Trisha slides into the chair across from me and takes a long drink of her cocktail. “Ah, that’s the stuff.” Eyeing me, she snags my phone with lightning speed. “Oh. My. Freaking. God. What the hell is this? I can’t stop thinking about the taste of your p—”

I rip the phone from her hands, heat raging on my cheeks. “Stop. Those are private.”

“Oh, he’s a dirty boy. I like him.” She looks at me, beaming with pride. “So you’re not a prude after all. I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be a sexter.”

“I’m not.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Uh, sweetie, that’s what sexting is.”

“I haven’t written back,” I admit, trying to appear aloof as I sip my coffee.

“Why the hell not?”

“I don’t know what to say. I never planned on seeing him again after the first time, and now I think he’s my boyfriend.”

She leans back in her chair, laughing uncontrollably. “Leave it to you to fail miserably at getting a guy to screw you and leave.”

“What? It’s not like I tried to hook him or anything. I didn’t even give him my number.”

Her casual demeanor evaporates as she straightens, pressing both palms to the tabletop. “So, how is he suddenly your boyfriend?”

“Well, after the first time, he showed up at the club while I was working. Then I got sick, and he started texting. We tried to go on a date, but I got a migraine. Last night was the first time I’d seen him in two weeks. That was a coincidence too. But he made it pretty damn clear to Jay that I was his.”

“His? Oh, fuck no. Reese, that’s not a boyfriend. He’s a stalker. A fucking hot as hell one, but definitely a stalker. You need to abandon ship.”

A frown pulls my eyebrows together. I’m sure I’m wearing the scowl my mother always said makes me look like a bitter old maid. “He’s not a stalker. We’ve just … just…” I try to come up with some excuse for our clandestine meetings. Then the photo of my mouth he’d sent me gives me pause. Shit, he is a stalker.

“Damn,” Trisha breathes. “Sorry, girl.”

“What should I do?” I ask, fear worming its way into my head. I’ve never had a stalker before. I’ve watched enough Lifetime movies to know they usually end up trying to murder their victims to keep them from being with anyone else.

“I’d start by breaking off all contact with him.”

That hurts. He’s so compelling, almost addictive. I don’t want to break with him. No. I can’t stop seeing him. He seems so tender and vulnerable at times. Besides, what if I’m wrong?

“Stop,” she says, snapping her fingers in front of me. “I can see you talking yourself into giving him a chance. Do you remember Bryant? He stalked me for a year. A freaking year. I had to move, change my phone number, switch schools. And that was with a restraining order. This guy…”

“Galen,” I offer automatically.

“Galen, is showing all the warning signs.”

“He texted a picture of me sleeping in his bed after the first time,” I admit.

Her eyes narrow. “I’m sorry. I know he’s hot as fuck, but this guy has to go. He’s trouble.”

My heart gives a squeeze, but I know she’s right. Bryant messed her up for a long time. I don’t want that to happen to me, but I’m already falling down that particular rabbit hole. Galen isn’t an easy man to refuse.

When I take a sip of my coffee, an ache takes hold in my chest, and I know I have to give him up.