This was a bad idea.
A really bad idea.
A super shitty, what-the-hell-are-you-thinking idea.
Adam knew that. He knew he was out of control. He was letting his emotions and the possessive instincts he’d spent too long trying to deny get the better of him.
And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it.
He’d blame Tabby if it wasn’t for the fact that it was one hundred percent his fault. After watching her bravely walk out of the house to face off against a wolf shifter nearly double her size… then to see her come back in with barely a hair out of place, somehow smelling of musk and spicy heat… he had to hold her.
He wanted to do more than that, but he needed to hold her close.
When Tabby curled up against him a couple of hours ago, snuggling her way under his arm, resting her head on his chest as if she actually trusted him… it took everything in him not to make his move last night. Their attraction—which he was praying was more than mutual at this point—was one thing. But the lust coupled with overwhelming need slamming into him as he watched Tabby slay that Nightwalker in the woods…
Jesus, he’d never been so hard.
He had stayed quiet on their walk back, barely listening as she talked him down last night. She seemed worried about him, keeping up the conversation as if she had sensed she needed to, and Adam kept his trap shut because clumsily blurting out, “God, I want to fuck you right now,” didn’t seem like the smoothest of moves when he was so incredibly desperate for this woman.
And that wasn’t like him at all.
Before his last dry spell, Adam Wright went after a prospective conquest with a dimple in his cheek, a twinkle in his eye, and the promise of pleasure in the curve of his smile. But with Tabby… it was like the primal side of him was taking over.
Was it because he was a Para now?
Probably.
He managed to get control of himself by the time she convinced him to break into the empty house to beat the sun; worrying about getting caught by Woodbridge cops took his mind off of his hard-on for a while.
And then Tabby touched him, pressing her hip next to his when they settled down together, and it was all he could do not to pin her under him. Honestly, the only thing that stopped him was knowing they were squatting in a stranger’s home and, even if he suspected that Tabby would welcome his advances, she deserved better than a quick fuck on a cellar floor.
So he slept, though his rest was fitful, and that was before the shifter interrupted them. Then he had to let her go, because she was a slayer and it was her duty, leaving Adam to prowl around the darkened corner of the house, straining to hear the sounds coming from the fight outside.
But she was okay. Whatever happened with the shifter, Tabby was okay, and Adam was so relieved that he reacted before he thought better of what he was about to do.
Keeping one arm wrapped around Tabby’s back, he bent her just enough to tilt her head, angling her mouth upward. Her lips parted, but Adam moved before she could ask him what the hell he was doing. He slanted his mouth over hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth, stroking hers sensually as he proved to himself that she was with him by kissing the life out of her.
Tabby stiffened for a moment before wriggling her arms up, tossing them around his neck. Their teeth clashed, Adam trying to figure out how to do this without poking her with his fangs, Tabby enthusiastically returning his kiss.
The realization that his slayer was kissing him back instead of shoving him away went straight to his cock before slamming him upside his head with hope.
Hope that she was as into him as he was into her.
Hope that being a Nightwalker wouldn’t turn her off.
Hope that one kiss would lead to another and—
Adam was getting ahead of himself. Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he broke the kiss so that he could let Tabby breathe. Her eyes were closed.
They sprang open as Adam moved his head away from hers.
Peeking at her through his mirrored shades, there was an undeniable daze in their dark brown depths that had his chest puffing out in pride.
He set her back on her sneakered feet, bracing her lower back with the flat of his hand as she stumbled a bit.
“I— are you okay?”
“Peachy keen,” Tabby said weakly. She laughed, a small little laugh, and blinked. “Wasn’t expecting that, though. Is that how you always greet a woman when she comes back home? Because I like it. If you want, I’ll walk back outside and we can do that again.”
She sounded like she meant it, too. A touch breathless from his deep kiss, but exhilarated all the same. Almost like she wanted him to kiss her.
So he took her hint and did just that.
The kiss was deeper this time, more frantic. He sensed her shift a second before she pressed her hands to his shoulders, vaulting herself up in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Adam groaned in her mouth as she started to rub her sex against his aching length.
Jeans, he thought. He just needed to zip open his, then pull hers down, and he could be inside of her in seconds.
Since his instincts demanded he get inside his slayer someway, somehow, that would be perfect.
Too bad he still had a shred of self-control left.
Even lost in her kiss, Adam knew that it was one thing to borrow an empty house to hide away in so that the sun didn’t turn him into a pile of ash. It was another totally to take advantage and fuck like bunnies because a grown ass man couldn’t control his cock long enough to wait until they were somewhere safe and secure.
Until then—
Shit.
At the familiar sting, Adam tried to pull away from Tabby, though even he would have to admit he didn’t try all that hard. When she felt him trying to distance himself from her, Tabby moved her hand, cupping the back of his head, leaving him no choice but to keep on kissing her.
Well, he was adamant that he get inside of her one way or another.
Looked like he did.
A few seconds later, almost as if she could tell that something big had happened—that something had changed—Tabby started to squirm against him, silently demanding to be put down again. Adam’s cock was so heavy, so hard, her wiggling had him about to shoot his load right there. He didn’t think she was doing it on purpose, but he didn’t want to shame himself in front of this woman by coming in front of her before he even had the chance to get her naked.
So he lowered her to the ground, stroking the undersides of her arm with his knuckles as she backed away from him.
For one excruciating moment, he thought she was going to tell him off for what he just did. He wouldn’t have blamed her one bit. What was he thinking?
Answer: he hadn’t been.
But then Tabby smiled at him, running one finger between the outline of his pecs. She was panting just a little, her voice so sultry, he bit back another groan.
“So, I was just thinking—”
“You can still think? Maybe I need to kiss you again.”
Tabby laughed. “Down, tiger. I was just thinking that, well, you weren’t wrong. It’s going to be dark out soon. And I know we missed the meet with Holly… it’s probably gonna take some to set up another one… and, hey, I’m not sure if you were planning on doing anything tonight...”
She was babbling. His honest, straight-to-the-point slayer was rambling as if she thought she had to convince him.
It was fucking adorable.
She seemed to catch on. With a royal shake of her head, settling her long, blonde ponytail over one shoulder, she cut through the bullshit. “I’m free tonight. So’s my bed. I mean, if you want.”
If you want…
He wanted. He wanted badly.
His lips curved. When she didn’t flinch at the sight of his fangs, his grin widened. “I don’t have anything else to do tonight.”
“Except me.”
Adam chuckled. “Except you.”
Turned out that two hours was a long time.
A man could do a lot of thinking in two hours.
Reflecting.
Regretting.
Realizing he’d fucked up—and big time, too.
To make matters worse, once the sun had gone down and they could finally return to Adam’s car, Tabby’s cinnamon scent—so spicy, so sweet, so hot—was nothing short of torture to him as he drove them out of Woodbridge and back toward Grayson.
He knew exactly what they were heading toward. And though Adam would give his left nut to have one turn in Tabby’s bed, he spent the two hours listening to Tabby’s chatter and her singing while talking himself out of going home with her.
He had to. There was no choice. After the stunt he pulled with the kiss, he couldn’t risk it.
As he drove, he probed the spot on his tongue, sliding it up against the side of his fang. The slight wound had healed within minutes of the initial injury. He hadn’t cut it again which blew holes in his already weak justification that it had been an accident.
Worse.
It had been instinct.
Adam didn’t want to be a Para. He was only partnering up with Tabby because she had contacts that would help him get the elixir that might—just might—reverse his terrible curse.
Well, that and because he was afraid of what would happen to her if he wasn’t around to keep an eye on her. She had already proven that she could kick ass—the way she took out that Nightwalker plus the shifter was fucking masterful—but she took too many reckless risks. He wouldn’t guard her, he wouldn’t stop her from fighting, but he’d act as a back-up for her for as long as she allowed him to stand behind her.
But the wicked part of him that had him purposely slicing his own tongue and feeding a few drops to Tabby through their kiss… that was pure possessive Para instincts and he hated himself for it.
Too late to take it back. He wasn’t even sure he could. There was still so much about being turned that Adam didn’t know. But the one thing he was sure of was that it took three blood exchanges to create a blood-bonding between a Nightwalker and their chosen partner.
He bit her, stealing her blood.
One.
He just gave her some of his.
Two.
He couldn’t let there be a three.
Since he obviously couldn’t trust himself in regards to Tabby, accepting her invitation into her bed was a bad, bad idea. She wasn’t asking him to make her his betrothed. It was about attraction. Sex. She wanted a good time, not to be tied to his sorry ass for as long as he could stand being a Nightwalker.
Adam could lie to himself and promise that he was just in it for the sex, too. But after how he “accidentally” fed her his blood, so damn desperate to get some part of him inside of her—to stake his claim, to make her his—he was almost positive that he’d never be able to hang onto his control long enough to keep from instigating the third blood exchange.
Something told Adam that if he so much as tried to trap his slayer, his back-up plan of walking into the sun if the elixir didn’t work would be unnecessary. Tabby would go right for his neck with her dagger—and he wouldn’t blame her one bit.
No.
He couldn’t do it.
And, somewhere along the journey, Tabby figured it out.
Her sly smile faded into a look of speculation as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. She’d switched the radio to an oldies station, humming along to “Lean On Me” as she calmly popped bubble after bubble. Gone was the vixen who jumped into his arms, rubbing against him wildly.
There were so many sides to this woman. The sweet, innocent act she easily adopted when they first met and he foolishly believed he was saving her. The playful tease who called him ‘champ’ while snapping her gum. The temptress who seemed to undress him with her heated gaze. The kick-ass slayer who showed no fear.
The curious woman who seemed to know what he was thinking—and what he was planning—even before he did.
When Adam coasted his coupe up to the curb outside of her building, she didn’t seem the least bit surprised when he made no move to park it.
Fingers resting on the handle, she asked bluntly, “Am I gonna see you again?”
Good question.
“I… we’ll see.”
“There’s still the elixir.”
He nodded. The elixir. He’d been hanging all of his hopes on that magic potion. If he was human, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If he was human, he could go after Tabby like he wanted to. If he was human, the fear of forcing her to bond with him wouldn’t be an issue.
But he wasn’t human. He was a damn Para, and unless he could get his claws on the elixir to reverse his turning, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
Talk about a catch-22. Tabby had the contact to get the elixir. In order to get it, he needed her help. But he also needed the elixir before he could even think about touching her again.
And he thought the worst part of being a Nightwalker was the thirst.
Adam scowled. “We’ll talk later.” Since she finally returned his cell to him, maybe they could do it over the phone instead of in person. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Sure.” She opened the door. “You know where I live. If you change your mind, the door’s always open. Night, champ.”
As the echo of the slamming car door rang in his ears, Adam’s claws sliced into the leather of his car’s seat as he fought the desire to get out of the car and follow her toward her apartment.
But he didn’t. And, as soon as he made sure she was safely inside, he took a deep breath, adjusted his aching cock, and put his foot to the gas pedal, heading back out of Grayson.
For the first time since he woke up to the shifter’s splitting howl, Adam could breathe again.
Deb was a lifesaver.
Instead of going home, Adam took the ride out to the Bumptown. He told himself it was because Colt left him a couple of messages, asking him if he was available for two drop-offs and a full delivery before giving him the info and reminding him to drop in overnight if he was around.
It was a little after ten when he arrived. Colt’s last text told Adam that the first delivery would need to be dropped off after midnight, and that he left the keys for the loaded delivery in the van. He tended to do that in case he was busy with Shea or pack business, and while Adam’s knee-jerk instinct was to worry about someone stealing it, Colt had a point. Nobody would dare make off with Colton Wolfe’s van, especially in his Bumptown.
Driving past Colt’s place, he saw that the lights were out. The delivery van was in the driveway; Colt’s truck wasn’t. The shifter wasn’t home.
Good.
Before he did the deliveries for Colt, he needed to have another chat with Debbie.
He was lucky to catch the Dayborn before she turned in for the night. After offering Adam a goblet of blood wine that he politely declined, she sipped on her own glass while he confessed everything that happened between him and Tabby.
It all came pouring out of him. As he confided in Debbie, he wondered if she was using her Dayborn abilities on him before he decided it didn’t matter. She was the only one he could go to with his questions and, luckily, she didn’t judge.
To his overwhelming relief, Deb let out a joyous, booming laugh when Adam admitted that he was worried he’d taken two steps toward bonding Tabby to him without her consent. He couldn’t help but think about how Julian Koenig tried to force Shea into being his betrothed. He never wanted to take that choice away from Tabby.
He didn’t even know if he wanted a mate. Right now, he just wanted to continue getting to know his slayer. Sex was very much on the table—but not if he lost control, instigated the third blood exchange, and selfishly bonded her to him when he was still working toward undoing the change.
As it turned out, he freaked out over nothing. Debbie explained to him between amused chuckles that paranormal bondings—including blood-bondings—could never be forced. Unless both parties wanted it, unless they both made a conscious decision to accept the connection between them, he could exchange blood with Tabby a hundred times and a bond would never snap into place.
Besides, she reminded Adam, it wasn’t just the third blood exchange that would do the trick; it involved a much higher intimacy than that. Unless he took his betrothed’s blood at the same time as he came inside of her, he was fine.
Adam probably used up close to a pint of blood, flushing as Debbie tried to give him the vampire’s version of the birds and the bees talk. When she started recommending the condom brands she preferred her lovers to use, and the best positions where she could feed and fuck at the same time, he hurriedly thanked her for her advice before booking it back to his coupe.
At least he could breathe again. And while he still wanted to kick his own ass for slipping blood to Tabby, trying to mark her as his in some small way, he felt so much better knowing that he didn’t go past the point of no return with her. That he didn’t completely fuck this up.
You know where I live. If you change your mind, the door’s always open.
He really, really hoped she meant that.
Feeling lighter than he had in days, Adam went back to Colt’s, leaving his coupe in the drive as he swapped it out for the delivery van.
By now, Adam thought he was getting a handle on Tabby and what kind of woman she was. No way would she be waiting around for him to pull his head out of his ass. She gave him her time last night—and even then she was called into work by that Boone guy. He’d be willing to bet that, as soon as she went up to her apartment, she re-upped her gear and headed back out on a hunt.
There wasn’t anything he could do about the elixir. Tabby was probably right about Holly. If it took a handful of days to arrange the first meet, how long would it take for the witch to give him a second chance?
And that was if she did.
Besides, Adam had a job of his own to take care of. So what if Colt only made him a delivery boy because Shea insisted on it? The bonded pair was right. He needed something to busy himself with that wasn’t just obsessing over Rafe and being a Nightwalker. They were looking out for him. He might as well let them.
So he did his deliveries because he couldn’t come up with any valid reason not to before driving the van all the way back to the Bumptown. Colt still wasn’t home. Figuring he was either with Wolfe and Evangeline, or he was staying overnight with Shea at her shop, he left the keys in the van like Colt did before hopping in his coupe and speeding the rest of the way back to Grayson.
Back to Tabby.
Just in case, he stopped off at the nearest convenience store. Debbie’s endorsements were ringing in his ears; he had to admit the Dayborn had a point.
Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have some condoms on him if Tabby actually let him in the door.
Fingers crossed.