Page 68 of The Beta's Blind Date

Even my wolf pokes her nose out from her quiet spot in my mind, taking stock of Reid and his presence, noting each touch, coming forward more each time.

The build-up between us is intense. Each moment we spend together, and each touch adds another block to the precarious tower, and it’s only a matter of time before it topples over. The question is—who will be the one to knock it down, and which of us will end up hurt in the aftermath?

I’m pretty sure I know the answer to both of those questions.

“I think that’s it for today,” Reid says as I finish my last set on the rowing machine. “Nice work, Cadet.”

“Thanks,” I say, getting off the machine.

I take two steps towards my stuff by the door when my thigh and glutes cramp up, sending a sharp spasm of pain shooting through my leg. I cry out and lean against the nearest weight machine, my eyes squeezing shut. My whole body tenses with the pain, and I grimace and groan, gritting my teeth.

Reid is at my side in an instant, hands hovering over me, voice panicked. “Taryn? Are you all right? What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“Cramp,” I say, my jaw still clenched and my eyes watering. “In my ass and my thigh. Right side.”

He swallows. Twice. Then his hands are on me, massaging my butt, using the right amount of pressure to relieve the pain instead of make it worse. His touch is careful and practiced, and he moves around my ass and up and down the back of my leg, working his magic.

He braces himself on the apparatus beneath me, and I grip his hand with mine, lacing my fingers between his and holding on as tight as possible. I bite back my noises, breathing through my nose. His body is flush with mine as he soothes my cramp, and I lean against him, pressing my face into his chest.

The pain ebbs until it is gone and I can breathe again, but neither of us moves. Reid’s hand wanders around my leg and butt, no longer massaging but instead exploring. His warm breath tickles my neck, and he wraps the hand holding mine around my waist, hugging me to him. Every nerve ending in my body prickles with awareness, eager for a turn to be touched by him.

A whimper slips out of me, my head tilting to the side and his hold on me tightens. His wandering hand slides around the side of my ass to my hip, curling around and caressing down the front of my leg, and I am lost. Lost in his touch, his scent, drowning in lust, dragged under by the overwhelming warmth of his body wrapped around mine.

He is intoxicating. He is my drug. He’s everything I want.

Almost.

But he’s Beta Reid Thomas of Crescent Lake. He is a playboy. He’s perfected seduction, and I can’t be one of his victims. I can’t be a notch in his bedpost. The flirting and teasing with him is fun, but this is something different. This is a line in the sand I don’t think I can cross without getting hurt.

His hand moves towards the inside of my thigh, but I rip myself away, pushing off him and breaking the spell, breaking his hypnotic hold on me. I gather up my jacket and shirt, tossing them into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, blinking back the water in my eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I throw over my shoulder.

I scurry away, not turning around even though he calls out my name. I can’t let him see how much I want to stay. How difficult it is for me to go.

My body leaves Crescent Lake and drives home, but my heart stays behind, stays in that weight room, stays in the hands of the playboy beta who can never be mine.

Chapter 24

REID

Musicblares,thebassthumps, and voices ring, the scent of beer and other alcoholic beverages mixing with the sweat of the occupants of The Thirsty Moose, our haunt for the night.

The entire crew is here—well, the wedding party at least—for a combined bachelor-bachelorette party that’s not a bachelor-bachelorette party because neither Wes nor Haven wanted to do the traditional “last night out” before their wedding. Instead, they brought us all out to karaoke night at the local supernatural bar, run by Jake, a moose shifter from Canada.

We’re seated at a circular booth in a corner of the bar, drinks and snacks spread across the table, all of us waiting our turn to take the stage and sing.

Or most of us. I already told everyone I would not sing. Karaoke is not my thing.

Sebastian elbows me in the ribs and nods towards the door. “Isn’t that your girl?”

I follow his gaze, and, sure enough, walking through the front door of the bar is Taryn. Taryn and another she-wolf who is short—probably shorter than Haven, even—with a white streak at the front of her otherwise pitch-black hair. Which means she must be Blake.

And even though I’ve seen Taryn almost every day this week during our trainings, my heart does a little flip in my chest at the sight of her.

“She’s not my girl,” I say, although inside I’m shouting it from the rooftops, arms spread wide, so the entire world—no, the entire universe—knows who she belongs to.

“Of course,” Seb says, sipping his beer.

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