His muscles uncoil as he straightens. Every move of his seems to be etched in sheer poetry. I try to move, and it’s as if my body is weighed down.
He raises the bottle and holds it right in front of my nose. “Yours?”
“Mine.” I force the word out through a throat that feels it’s lined with shredded glass. Does he realize that I am staking my claim on him already with that word? “Impressive catch.” I jut out my chin.
“I know.” His voice is low and husky and tugs at my nerve endings.
There’s no mistaking the innuendo in his tone. He’s so damn self-assured, so confident of the impact of his nearness on me. It should annoy me, but the truth is that his arrogance is a turn-on. Sheer charisma oozes from his every pore, threatening to overpower me with the dominance of his personality.
My belly flutters. Heat flushes my cheeks. I reach out and grab the bottle from him.
One side of his lips quirk.
A kind of know-it-all, I-know-the-effect-I-am-having-on-you kind of smirk. The kind of smile that does not quite reach his eyes. The kind that promises that lurking just under the surface is a male who will take without permission.
It’s bad and oh so good.
Every part of my body seems to wake up and scream for attention. For his attention. His very careful ministrations on every inch of my skin, my body, my soul.
Someone opens the bar door at the front. A breeze sweeps in and flows over me, bringing with it more of that fresh rain scent. It's laced with a hint of something dark. Forbidden. Out of bounds. My heart stutters.
He tilts his head. His hair is cut close to his scalp. The strands rise, spiky in the front.
I have a sudden image of my thighs framing his face as he dips his head between my legs.
My belly tightens. My pussy is instantly wet.
“You are not human,” I state the obvious.
He’s too well-built for us to belong to the same species.
He could be a shifter…except for the way he moves, it’s too smooth, too fluid, not like their more deliberate gait.
“What are you?” A ripple of apprehension slithers down my spine. And yet I can’t stop staring. Can’t take my gaze off that perfect face.
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” he purrs.
Goosebumps flare on my skin. I gulp. I’ve never had such an intense reaction to a complete stranger, not like this.
“You okay?” He peels his lips back.
It’s not a smile but a declaration of intent. A promise to take without mercy. Anticipation tightens my skin. My scalp tingles.
No. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I tilt the bottle to my lips and take a sip before lowering it.
Perfect white teeth flash at me, setting off that honeyed tan of his skin. That, combined with the lines that stretch from the corners of his eyes, tells me he spends a lot of time outdoors.
The man reaches out with his finger and touches the corner of my lips. “You left some behind.”
Heat flickers out from that whisper of a touch, down to my core, and I stiffen. Every muscle in my body tenses.
The man brings his finger to his lips and sucks on it.
The sight of those gorgeous lips closing around his digit sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. My belly quivers. My heart stutters. More moisture slicks my core.
What the bloody hell?
Who is this man? And why am I reacting like he is the last male I’ll ever see? Probably because it is true? Because I am about to embark on the most dangerous part of my mission, and I don’t want to die a virgin? Because I want to know how it is to be taken, possessed…by him? No way am I letting that happen, not by a complete stranger.
I sidle off the barstool, still holding the bottle in my hand, then duck under his arm. He lets me go and my breath comes out in a rush.
Don't turn around. Don't look at him. I stumble up the corridor. When I reach the ladies' room I lunge for the door and fling it open. I cross the floor of the restroom and lurch to a stop in front of the sink.
Close call. At least I escaped.
I plop the bottle on the counter and grip the edge of the sink.
So why does it feel like I am missing out? That I’ll never know how it feels to trace those biceps with my fingers, to