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I smell her before I see her.

Beneath the stench of stale beer, cheap cologne, fried food, and too many men who don’t know how to bathe, there’s something else.

Something sweet.

Something pure.

Something mine.

Fuck. No.

I slam a mental fist against the thought, but it doesn’t matter. That word lingers in my head, in my blood, in the part of me that isn’t human enough to ignore what she is to me.

I can’t have her. I know I can’t.

But I can’t stay away, either.

For weeks now, I’ve been lingering outside, parked just far enough away that no one notices, just watching. Protecting.

She works too damn hard. Almost every night, I watch her wipe down that bar, pick up after assholes who don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.

I want to help. I want to do something.

But what the hell am I supposed to do? Walk in there and tell her she belongs to a monster?

Yeah. That’d go over real well.

Arliss doesn’t know I’m here.

No one does.

She’s my secret.

My addiction.

The curvy little goddess who has no idea she has an animal like me wrapped around her finger.

But tonight, I break my own rules.

Because I see some drunken fuck as he stumbles out of the bar, still on his phone, reeking of beer and piss.

Missed the urinal, huh? Classy.

I wouldn’t have given him a second glance. But then I heard what he said.

“Yeah, she’s here. The one with the fat ass. Yeah, I’m gonna make my move. Ol’ Freddy Love got something all the girls need. Don’t you worry. Imma fuck that one good. It’s a bet!”

My vision goes red.

My Bull snarls inside me, pawing at the ground, already itching to charge.

Did this fucker just?

Oh. Fuck. No.

I don’t even realize I’ve moved until I’m inside the bar, settling onto a stool like I belong here.

I don’t.