Read Online How Nina Got Her Fang Back: Accidental Quickie (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 13) by Dakota Cassidy - Free Book Online
Authors: Dakota Cassidy
Tags: General Fiction
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amazing scent.
But…
They’d both been working late, and he’d known better than to invite her to share a table with him so she didn’t have to eat standing up in the cafeteria while a late-night conference was in progress.
He’d known better, but his vampire lust, his entire existence, narrowed to only January after that first conversation. Her voice, her scent, her desire for him, so rich and real he could taste it, all drove him mad—absolutely mad.
And now they were here and a baby later, trying desperately to find a way to be a family.
“Galen? That you, man?” a voice called from behind him.
Shit.
Their cloaking spell must have worn off.
January stiffened in his arms. He sniffed the air, picking up the scent of Rowdy Goram, an optometrist from the third floor of the medical building where he and January housed their practices.
“Shit,” he murmured. Rowdy was a fellow clansman and a total ass-kisser. If he saw Galen with January, Artem would know the minute Rowdy could dial his number. If it could bring him some rank in the clan, he’d rat out his own damn mother.
Rowdy’s footsteps grew closer, and as Galen was about to scoop January up and whisk her away, she giggled.
He frowned, looking down at her. January—all buxom blonde and ruby-red lips—looked back up at him and winked a sultry conspirator’s eye.
Thank the gods for her cloaking spells.
“Galen?” Rowdy slapped him on the back.
“A little busy here, buddy. You mind?” He pointed to January’s head and made a face at Rowdy as he tucked January closer and wiggled his eyebrows.
Rowdy blustered, his pale, narrow face eerie in the dark of the night. “Sorry, buddy. Didn’t know you were otherwise,” he coughed and grinned like they’d just shared a dirty picture in Penthouse , “engaged. Just checking to be sure you’re okay. Anyway, ’night, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Galen and made a crude gesture before he was off, scurrying his lanky frame toward the office building and slipping inside behind the tinted glass door.
January let out a breath of air. “Gods, I hate your clan.”
“Ditto, Marilyn,” he teased, dropping a kiss on her nose.
She chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? She’s the absolute opposite end of the spectrum from not-so-va-va-voom me. Marilyn Monroe was the first image that came to mind. Sometimes it just happens that way.”
“Yeah? Well, I like your end of the spectrum way better, young lady. It’s all kinds of restrained hot. Now go, before this spell wears off and I get into trouble for having my way with you right here in the middle of the sidewalk.”
“It’s the pouty lips, isn’t it? What is it with men and big, poofy lips?” she teased, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“It’s your everything. Now scoot. Don’t change back until you’re halfway home. Promise me.”
She held up her fingers in a Girl Scout’s Honor and mocked a sultry smile, turning her head to rest her chin on her shoulder. “Promise. But what are you going to do here tonight? It’s almost midnight, Galen.”
“Just some research—besides, nighttime is my thing. Remember? Coffin-dweller here?”
Giggling, she stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Galen Marcus. We’ll figure this out or we’ll pack up and move to Siberia.”
“I love you back, January Malone. Like crazy. And I guess I could get used to borscht and an igloo,” he teased. Kissing her one last time, he sent her on her way, regretting instantly the moment she left his arms.
As he watched her sashay down the sidewalk, her Marilyn hips much fuller than her own, her sway accentuated by her heels, Galen fought the tight sting of fear in his chest.
If these women couldn’t help them, by hell, he would find a way to make their family whole—because there was still one more issue he hadn’t told January about.
One really big issue.
He was holding
But…
They’d both been working late, and he’d known better than to invite her to share a table with him so she didn’t have to eat standing up in the cafeteria while a late-night conference was in progress.
He’d known better, but his vampire lust, his entire existence, narrowed to only January after that first conversation. Her voice, her scent, her desire for him, so rich and real he could taste it, all drove him mad—absolutely mad.
And now they were here and a baby later, trying desperately to find a way to be a family.
“Galen? That you, man?” a voice called from behind him.
Shit.
Their cloaking spell must have worn off.
January stiffened in his arms. He sniffed the air, picking up the scent of Rowdy Goram, an optometrist from the third floor of the medical building where he and January housed their practices.
“Shit,” he murmured. Rowdy was a fellow clansman and a total ass-kisser. If he saw Galen with January, Artem would know the minute Rowdy could dial his number. If it could bring him some rank in the clan, he’d rat out his own damn mother.
Rowdy’s footsteps grew closer, and as Galen was about to scoop January up and whisk her away, she giggled.
He frowned, looking down at her. January—all buxom blonde and ruby-red lips—looked back up at him and winked a sultry conspirator’s eye.
Thank the gods for her cloaking spells.
“Galen?” Rowdy slapped him on the back.
“A little busy here, buddy. You mind?” He pointed to January’s head and made a face at Rowdy as he tucked January closer and wiggled his eyebrows.
Rowdy blustered, his pale, narrow face eerie in the dark of the night. “Sorry, buddy. Didn’t know you were otherwise,” he coughed and grinned like they’d just shared a dirty picture in Penthouse , “engaged. Just checking to be sure you’re okay. Anyway, ’night, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Galen and made a crude gesture before he was off, scurrying his lanky frame toward the office building and slipping inside behind the tinted glass door.
January let out a breath of air. “Gods, I hate your clan.”
“Ditto, Marilyn,” he teased, dropping a kiss on her nose.
She chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? She’s the absolute opposite end of the spectrum from not-so-va-va-voom me. Marilyn Monroe was the first image that came to mind. Sometimes it just happens that way.”
“Yeah? Well, I like your end of the spectrum way better, young lady. It’s all kinds of restrained hot. Now go, before this spell wears off and I get into trouble for having my way with you right here in the middle of the sidewalk.”
“It’s the pouty lips, isn’t it? What is it with men and big, poofy lips?” she teased, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“It’s your everything. Now scoot. Don’t change back until you’re halfway home. Promise me.”
She held up her fingers in a Girl Scout’s Honor and mocked a sultry smile, turning her head to rest her chin on her shoulder. “Promise. But what are you going to do here tonight? It’s almost midnight, Galen.”
“Just some research—besides, nighttime is my thing. Remember? Coffin-dweller here?”
Giggling, she stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Galen Marcus. We’ll figure this out or we’ll pack up and move to Siberia.”
“I love you back, January Malone. Like crazy. And I guess I could get used to borscht and an igloo,” he teased. Kissing her one last time, he sent her on her way, regretting instantly the moment she left his arms.
As he watched her sashay down the sidewalk, her Marilyn hips much fuller than her own, her sway accentuated by her heels, Galen fought the tight sting of fear in his chest.
If these women couldn’t help them, by hell, he would find a way to make their family whole—because there was still one more issue he hadn’t told January about.
One really big issue.
He was holding
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