He wanted his humanity back.
“I’m busy with a project right now—a custom chopper we’ve designed for some bigwig up in Dallas. You’ll have to stay out of the way.”
She nodded. “No problem. You won’t even know I’m there.”
He sucked down the last of his drink. “Tomorrow night then. Seven o’clock.”
Excitement lit her expression as she got to her feet. “It’s a date.”
If only.
He squelched the thought, sipped his beer and watched the push/pull of her denim skirt as she turned to walk away.
Watch being the key word. A word that implied distance and perspective and hands off.
But looking…
Well, there wasn’t a damned thing wrong with that.
Chapter 2
EVERY INCH of Viv’s body screamed with awareness as she left Garret staring after her and headed for the nearest exit.
Her hands trembled. Her stomach tingled. Her nipples quivered. Heat flamed her cheeks, and she felt a buzzing awareness from her hair follicles to the balls of her feet. The chemistry between them was even stronger than she’d remembered.
Which explained why she’d chickened out with her real proposition.
She wanted a lot of things from Garret Sawyer—his hands on her skin, his lips eating at hers and his body full and thick inside of her—but a picture wasn’t one of them.
Unless said picture included all of the above.
But still shots of his motorcycle shop?
Forget desperate. One hundred and eighty years without an orgasm had finally taken its toll. She’d crossed the line from desperate to completely deranged.
“Hey there, sweet thing.”
Her gaze snapped up just as a man stepped in front of her and blocked her escape route. It was one of the bikers who’d been playing darts when she’d first entered the bar.
He slid his arm around her shoulder and leaned into her. “Why don’t you and I have a seat and get to know each other better?”
That’s what he said, but she knew the truth. He didn’t want to get to know her. Not her mind, that is. As for having a seat…The only seat he had in mind involved her straddling his lap and doing her best rodeo queen imitation.
“No, thanks.”
“Aw, don’t be like that.” His thick fingers stroked her arm. “I just want to be friends.”
“I doubt that.” Garret’s deep voice drifted over her shoulder and prickled the hair on the back of her neck.
The man turned and his eyes went wide. “Where’d you come from?”
“Do you really want to know?”
The man blinked and shook his head. “Weren’t you just sitting clear across the room?”
“I’ve got fast reflexes.” When the man didn’t look convinced, Garret added, “Shouldn’t you be at home with Liza?”
Shock fueled the man’s expression and his gaze narrowed. “What do you know about my wife?”
“I know she left your sorry ass because you’ve got a hair trigger when it comes to sex. I also know that the two of you are still married even though she’s staying at her mother’s.” Garret’s expression was as hard as granite. “You shouldn’t be here hitting on women. You should be begging Liza’s forgiveness.”
The man looked confused for a long moment before an idea seemed to strike. “You’re one of them superheroes, ain’t ya?”
“Not even close,” Garret replied.
“What about a psychic? My Aunt Bertie was a psychic. She had forty cats and swore she could talk to every one of them. Always knew when one was getting sick.”
“I’m not psychic either. I’m pissed. So get your hands off the lady. Now.”
“Like hell—” he started, but his voice faded when Garret’s gaze collided with his.
“Go home,” Garret told the man.
And beg your wife to take you back. Viv added the silent thought when the man’s gaze finally shifted to hers. He nodded and released her arm.
“Thanks,” she told Garret when the man finally walked away. “But you didn’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”
“I know.” His gaze drilled into hers, and for a split second time pulled her back, and the wall between them seemed to crumble.
Concern sparkled in his eyes, along with a fierce protective light that stalled her heart.
“About those pictures,” she heard herself say. “I…” I was lying. I don’t want to take your picture. I want you. Wild and naked and inside of me. She opened her mouth, but despite the moment of déjà vu, she couldn’t seem to force the words past her lips. “I—I can’t wait to get started,” she heard herself say. “See you tomorrow.”And then she turned and pushed through the Exit door.
The sweltering Texas night sucked her up, and the door rocked shut behind her. Gravel crunched as she headed for the silver Jag parked at the far end of a row of motorcycles. Her ears tuned for any sound that would indicate that Garret followed.
Nothing.
A wave of disappointment crashed through her, followed by a surge of relief.
Relief? What the hell was wrong with her?
She should have hauled him outside with her, shoved him up against the nearest wall, kissed him full on the mouth and made her intentions crystal clear.
That’s what she would have done with anybody else. What she’d always done to keep up her strength and feed the hunger that churned deep inside her.
But while she’d soaked up plenty of sexual energy from her partner’s orgasms, she’d never closed her eyes and lost herself in the feel of her own body convulsing and splintering into a thousand little pieces.
Not since her last night with Garret.
She’d been a vampire back then and he’d been just another mortal, but the encounter had rocked her unlike any other. They’d had phenomenal sex and she’d been hooked.
And so had he.
The crazy fool had actually proposed to her.
She touched her bare ring finger. She could still feel the metal sliding over her knuckle. In her mind’s eye, she saw
