Page 49 of The Beta's Blind Date

But I’m prepared for her, and I evade her approach, pulling her down with me and rolling us until she’s under me, her stomach pressed against the mat, her arms locked behind her and my knee pressing into her back.

I keep her there for two seconds—although my dick and heart ache for it to be longer—then release her so she can get up and try again.

She’s back on her feet in a heartbeat. Her gaze locks on me, her brow furrowed with determination. She lunges forward a second time, but again, I get the jump on her and take her to the ground, this time pinning her with her back to the mat, her arms up by her head.

Our eyes lock and our chests press together with each breath, the tension thickening with every passing second. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and my breath catches in my throat. I pull myself off her, stepping back and rubbing my face as I wait for her to stand again, breathing in and out, calming my hardening cock.

I can’t help it. Even without the bond, I would be attracted to her. Without the bond, I would have fucked her already to get it out of my system.

But with the bond, because she can’t feel it and I don’t know why, I’ve gotten to know her, to spend time with her, and learn who she is beneath the gorgeous girl on the outside. Something I have never done with a female besides Maddie, who has always been like a little sister to me—I mean, I helped change her diapers, for Goddess’s sake—and Haven, who is the mate of my best friend.

She stands across from me, her face blank. Her only movements are the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath. I can’t help but wonder if she’s as much of a mess on the inside as I am. If she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. Does she feel anything towards me? Anything at all?

“Keep your emotions out of it,” I say, dropping my hand from my face and standing still.

I’m not sure if I’m coaching her now, or myself.

“You’re determined, which is good, but you’re letting that cloud your instincts and your judgment. Clear your mind. Focus on your opponent, on their technique, and take them down by finding their weak spots instead of relying on your strength and your emotions to fuel you.”

She nods and takes several deep, calming breaths, her eyes closing as she relaxes her shoulders and her neck. I crouch, using her closed eyes to my advantage, but fast as a cobra, she strikes.

She uses my weight against me, taking me to the floor and knocking the air from my lungs. She twists and locks my arms behind my back and pushes my face into the mat with her other hand, my skin flattening out on the surface like rolled out clay. All her weight is on me, forcing me down, and I can’t move my arms or get out of her hold.

Not that I want to.

But she keeps me there for only a moment; her excitement takes over, a squeal slipping from her mouth as she jumps off me.

“I did it!” she yells, dancing on her toes.

I stand up, my cheek peeling off the floor like a suction cup, and I lift my hand to give her another high five, a smile playing on my lips. “Nice work, Cadet.”

She keeps dancing around and bounces into my space, bypassing my hand and throwing her arms around my neck.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I hesitate for the shortest moment ever, then wrap my arms around her, hugging her for the first time. She is a perfect fit against me, the answer to a question I didn’t know I’d been asking. I close my eyes and breathe in, my body relaxing along with my wolf.

This. This is what everyone talks about, what everyone means when they say your mate is made for you. The seamless fit, the ease of being with them, the desire to hold them and never let go…

How am I going to let her go? Because there’s no denying it anymore. Or blaming it on my wolf or the bond. I am falling head over heels for my blind date—for Taryn Campbell. My mate.

Chapter 17

TARYN

Theicywindwhipsaround me, slicing through each layer of my clothing, sending a shiver down my spine and goosebumps up my arms. I hug my faux fur coat tighter to my body, covering my chest and the small slivers of my stomach exposed by the criss-crossed bodice of my bodycon dress, and take a steadying breath before I open the door to La Dolce Vita.

Inside, the Italian restaurant is warm, both in temperature and atmosphere. The little square tables are lit with candles, and the scents of garlic and fresh baked bread floating on the air tickle my nose and tease my taste buds, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

At least I’ll get a meal out of this sham of a date. That’s the only positive I can find right now.

My feet move me forward, the heels of my over-the-knee boots clicking on the stamped concrete floor, but my heart and my mind are filled with lead, pulling me back to my car and up the mountain.

Not to Silver Ridge. But to Crescent Lake.

Which is silly. Reid is nothing to me. He is just a friend, just someone who is helping me train.

But the memory of his body pressed against mine, pinning me to the floor with his weight and his gaze, his chest heaving in tandem with mine, has me twisted up in knots. Butterflies flutter in my stomach each time I think of that moment, heat surging through me and awakening every part of me, awakening a desire deep in my soul. And based on his body’s reaction to mine—the hardening body part pressing against me as neither of us moved from our position—there is no way I was the only one struggling to resist the undeniable magnetic pull between us.

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