Page 2

Jonah

There’s a spreadsheet open on my computer, but I can’t see any of the numbers. It’s all gibberish, a nonsensical mess to my scattered, racing mind.

The ambient sounds of a Friday afternoon at the office filter in, but I can barely hear it. At least not over the low pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

Every one of my senses feel dulled and sharper at the same time, closed off from the world around me and still entirely focused on what happened in Conference Room B a few minutes ago.

Did that just happen?

Did I really just sit next to Susie Grove in a meeting and…

I take a deep inhale and almost imagine I can still scent it, still taste it, the impossibly delicious scent of her…

No.

That can’t be it.

There’s no way Susie was sitting next to me in that boring accounts payable meeting, staring at my hands, perfuming the air between us with her arousal.

No. Not possible.

Eyes still on my computer, I make myself focus on the last page of the report my boss is expecting by the end of the day. We’re wrapping up quarterly financials, and I can’t leave until I turn my portion of the reporting in.

It should be easy enough. I’ve run this same report every quarter since I started working at the Bureau, and by this point, I could probably do it in my sleep.

But unlike all those other quarters, I don’t have the memory of Susie Grove’s face seared into the backs of my eyelids to haunt me while I stare at all those numbers.

Wide-eyed, flushed, so adorably guilty as she quickly averted her gaze. And the way she shifted in her seat when I adjusted my hands in front of me, flexed my fingers, like she was trying to soothe an ache between her thighs, trying to give herself a little pressure so she could—

I bite back a silent curse and give my head a hard shake, but it’s no use. I can’t stop playing the images over and over in my mind. Each time I do, I’m more and more certain that I’m not wrong.

Gods above, I hope I’m not wrong.

Because all those memories are stirring something in me. Something deep and hungry and possessive, something that calls on all my most primal, deep-seated instincts and commands me to go to her, find her, draw more of those flushes and more of that sweet scent from her, pull her to me and—

“Greenwood.”

Visibly startling in my chair, I turn to find my boss, a cranky old griffin named Kingston, peering over the top of my cubicle wall.

“Yeah?”

“You got those end of quarter reports finished up?”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’ve just about got them wrapped up.”

He gives me a curt nod. “Good. The executive team needs them bright and early Monday morning, so make sure you send them before you leave today.”

Turning my eyes back to my screen, it takes a few more deep breaths for the numbers to settle themselves back into something resembling order.

It also takes every one of those breaths for me to get a damn handle on myself.

I shift a subtle hand down to my lap, praying Kingston doesn’t come back before I have the chance to tuck my aching, embarrassingly hard cock out of the way.

Gods, what am I, fifteen and sitting next to a pretty girl for the first time?

Because that’s sure as hell what it feels like. Given everything that happened in the last half-hour, I’d barely believe I’m the thirty-year-old, rational, mature, sensible being I like to think I am.

Nope, one hint that Susie Grove might be attracted to me and all that better sense goes right out the window.

But there’s nothing I can do about it right now.

At least, not unless I want to go find her at her desk and make things even more awkward than they were when she fled the meeting room like the building was on fire, so I turn my attention back to my computer.

With the clock ticking down to five and the work day coming to a close, I scramble to finish the reports Kingston needs.

Cantankerous bosses and irrational office crushes aside, I love working at the Paranormal Citizens Relations Bureau.

After all the changes the Paranormal Acts made in the world, society has been shifting at its most fundamental level.

Paranormal folk have had the freedom to step into the light and be who we are, and being here, helping those changes along, is so energizing.

It’s inspiring to be a part of the organization helping to create this new future we live in.

And it’s been even better since Susie started working here.

I’ve been so fucking gone for this girl from the first moment I saw her.

Nevermind that she’s so far out of my league it’s laughable to even consider asking her out, and nevermind that I’m only beginning to develop some actual confidence after all the work I’ve been doing on myself the last couple years.

It’s impossible, this crush I have on her, but I’ve been carrying it around for the last two years anyway.

Only… the ghost of Susie’s scent still lingers in my nose, and the sight of her pretty face as she glanced up at me like she just got caught doing something very, very naughty is seared into my retinas.

I can’t forget it, can’t get it out of my mind, can’t stop wondering if it means that she might feel—

From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a flash of soft brown hair, the curve of a sweater-clad shoulder near the elevators.

Susie steps inside a moment later, and the sight of those doors sliding shut, the sight of her leaving, snaps something in me.

Deep in my bones—unfamiliar but undeniable—instinct bursts into life.

I fire off the last report I owe Kingston.

It’s half-assed, sloppy, and I can almost imagine the fierce scowl on his beaked face when he opens it, but I can’t stop myself.

Piling all my stuff in my backpack, I swing it over my shoulders and head for the stairs. I’m not taking the chance of waiting on the elevators, and I doubt my racing pulse and the restlessness in all my limbs would let me do so, anyway.

Not when it’s imperative that I speak to Susie before she leaves.

Why? I’m not exactly sure. I can’t pause my racing thoughts long enough for it to make any kind of sense.

What am I going to say when I catch up to her? I have no idea.

But I can’t stop now that I’ve started, not with that instinct coursing through me. Not when every single cell in my body is yelling at me to go after her, lay eyes on her, speak to her.

And sure, I guess I could try to catch her on Monday, but if I don’t talk to her now I might lose my nerve.

Or she might spend all weekend feeling as embarrassed as she looked right before she high-tailed it out of the meeting room.

She won’t know that embarrassed is the very last thing I want her to feel around me, that there’s nothing on earth I want more than for her to—

Those thoughts draw up short as I jog out of the building and catch sight of her about to reach a dark blue sedan on the second level of the parking garage.

My heart lurches in my chest and relief washes over me in a deluge. I made it. I’m not too late.

“Susie, wait up.”