Page 21 of Galen
Galen hovered over me, fingers skating across my jaw.
My heart pounded as I stared up at him, but not from fear. I considered myself relatively tame when it came to sex. I was no virgin, but I didn’t sleep around a lot either, especially with guys I didn’t know well. However, being around Galen amped up my desire to fuck him nine ways to Sunday. In every position possible.
I also felt something else. A pull toward him.
“Sleep,” he whispered, smoothing his fingertips along my temple.
Drowsiness hit me full force, and I struggled to stay alert. He took off my glasses and placed them on the nightstand as I lost the battle to keep my eyes open.
I was asleep in seconds.
Chapter Five
Galen
I watched Simon as he slept. Sandy-brown bangs fell across his brow, and I fought the urge to brush them aside. To touch him.
I couldn’t explain why, but I was drawn to him. I had been since the day I walked into his shop and saw his big hazel eyes staring up at me.
He was an ordinary human. Average. His wardrobe seemed to mostly consist of cardigan sweaters and vests, mainly gray and navy blue with a few green ones thrown in. He had little to no muscle, and his body was soft. Not the body of someone who could fight off a pair of shades.
The memory of him lying in a pool of his own blood with his chest slashed to hell was one I wouldn’t soon forget.
Throughout my life, I’d seen countless humans die at the hands of demons. We had saved many of them, but the ones we’d lost, though disappointing, hadn’t affected me quite as much as seeing Simon that way had, him barely clinging to consciousness as he bled out on the floor of his shop. A protective instinct had kicked in.
Letting him die was out of the question.
So was letting him out of my sight.
Did it make sense? No. All I knew about him was his name. Yet, being in his presence calmed me. My wrathful urges dissipated. I was used to being angry all the time, but not when around him.
Perhaps that’s what drew me to him, that sense of peace he instilled in my mind.
Simon stirred in his sleep, making the softest of sounds. I found myself leaning closer, the pull to him unstoppable. I ghosted my fingers over his jaw, then down the side of his neck.
He smelled like rain.
Guilt clung to my insides as I looked at the bandages around his arm and chest. I should’ve known the scent of the box was still at the shop. Shades might’ve been dumb as doornails, but they were incredible trackers. Killers. If they were ordered to retrieve something, they killed anything in their way.
Knowing he’d be asleep for a while, I left the room and softly closed the door behind me.
“How’s the human?” Castor asked, leaning against the wall.
“Have you been standing there this entire time?”
“No.” He pushed from the wall and kept pace beside me as I walked toward the entertainment room. “Long enough to see your little internal dilemma though.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He means something to you.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s only here because he has a target on his back. Leaving him somewhere to die goes against everything we stand for.”
Castor smirked. “So why is he in your bed?”
“Because I don’t trust any of you assholes.” I shoved him away as he started to laugh. “Get that dumbass look off your face. The human means nothing to me.”
“Maybe. But you totally want to fuck him.”
