Page 2 of Blood Lust

All but sprinting to the small breakfast section, I hurriedly look for the shredded wheat, my favorite. My brows raise when I realize the store has regular and frosted.

Fuck, I hate decisions.

Yellow box or orange box? My eyes dart back and forth, deciding I could use the extra sugar. I reach for the frosted kind, pulling the last box off of the shelf and meeting a pair of the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen.

Surprised, I jump, and a little squeak comes out as I drop my cereal box. Bending over to pick it up, large, calloused hands beat me to it. As the box rises and I straighten from my awkward lean, it’s pressed into my grasp.

I stare at the hands that helped me and follow them to well-toned forearms, tan with veins roping down them. Biceps that look like they belong to an axe-wielding woodsman and broad shoulders to match. My neck keeps craning upward, drinking in possibly one of the most beautiful faces I’ve ever seen on a man. Angled nose, strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and full lips that turn down at the corners.

It is as if I can feel the world spinning all around me.

“Sorry,” I mutter, staring at the blue-eyed stranger. His hair is the color of chestnuts, smooth, straight, and a little on the longer side. I desperately want to run my fingers through it.

My heart skips a beat as his hands brush against mine.

“No, it was my fault. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice drips honey, and I can feel the heat in my cheeks, as well as… elsewhere.

“I’m fine,” I wish my voice dripped with anything other than embarrassment and nervousness. His eyes bore into mine, and my breath hitches as the store fades. I couldn’t drop his stare, even if I wanted to.

Slowly he reaches a hand toward me, toward my face, like he will caress my cheek or brush my lips with his thumb. A pulse surges through my body and something snaps in my brain as I stare into this man. It travels down into my heart, giving me a sense of yearning. Lastly, a wave of desire settles in my core. My arousal heightens, and the wetness in my underwear is more evident than before. I am spellbound by this man.

His nostrils flare for just a moment, and as his hand grows closer to my skin, I want nothing more than for him to take me in his arms and-

“What the FUCK?”

And the moment is gone.

Turning, I find Spencer behind me, face red and brow furrowed. “What the hell is going on here, Wren?”

I am speechless, and nothing is going on. Sure, I had gotten lost in the eyes of a stranger, a six-foot-something godlike creature of a stranger, but it’s not like he caught us with our tongues in each other’s mouths.

“Spence, I-” He grips my elbow roughly, more so than he’s ever done in public. I realize this is bad. This is very, very bad.

“I didn’t come all the way out to this god-forsaken hell hole to watch my girl eye fuck some townie!” His voice is low, dangerous, and my heart races as my blood runs cold.

“Jesus, Wren. You drag me out here and pull this shit?” He grips my arm tighter, pain blooms under his grasp as he attempts to yank me away. “We’re going home.”

Suddenly, another hand darts out and lands on Spencer’s forearm. Muscles flex and Spencer’s grasp loosens.

“It would be wise for you to let her go.” Hearing the deep voice of the stranger’s insistent words, Spencer releases me. In return, the stranger lets him go.

“Fuck you, and fuck her too,” he spits out before turning on his heel and rushing for the door. Shock freezes me to the spot momentarily. Watching Spencer’s retreating form plays tricks on me. Suddenly the store is longer, the sounds around me are muffled, until the tinkling of the bell above the door is suddenly deafening.

He’s gone.

“Sorry,” I mutter to the stranger, thrusting the box back at him. Moving to take off after my boyfriend, a spike of adrenaline cuts through me when long, thick fingers lace around my wrist. This grip is gentle, a question rather than a demand. I turn back to my stranger, my heart pounds as his eyes see right through me.

“Stay with me,” he breathes. A weight behind his words tickles at the back of my mind.

I want to listen.

I want to stay here and get lost in those eyes.

In his fiery touch.

An engine roars to life in the parking lot. Blinking away from the fog of this fantasy coming to life, I pull myself from the man with little effort. Thank God. If my stranger had insisted I stay, would I have had the strength to leave his side?

I doubt it.

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