Original Sin (The Order of Vampires 1)

Annalise watched through the mirrored Michelob sign on the wall across from her as Sarah approached Adam’s table. Not like she had any claim to him. He wouldn’t care who brought him beer. He’d probably like Sarah more anyway.

Annalise’s focus returned to cleaning off the ketchup bottles and refilling the empties. The song changed as she tightened the lid of the last bottle, and she stilled.

Shivers ran over her skin leaving a tingle of recognition in their wake. The Beatles’ In My Life played from The Red Album. It was her favorite song. A smile crested her lips and her gaze lifted.

Adam stood between her and the jukebox. It was the first time she got a good look at him outside of the booth. Tall, broad, and, God help her, gorgeous. Where was Sarah?

She gave up her mirror watch and turned to see him better. The second her gaze collided with his, the side of his mouth hooked into a half grin.

This man was not Amish. Today he wore plain, possibly Amish clothing, but that was it. Where was his bowl cut and beard? Okay, he had a little scruff on the jaw, but that was more along the lines of don’t I look sexy in the morning, than ye shall not covet thy neighbor’s horse and buggy and other biblical phrases.

And now he was walking toward her. Shit! She tried to look busy, but her gaze returned to him as if under some sort of spell. He was just so ... masculine. It was as if his raw magnetism sucked her into some sort of primal vortex. Looking him in the eye felt like one of the dirtiest things she’d ever done with her body. And she wanted more.

Guitar notes threaded through the air and time stood still. He moved closer, his languid strides gliding over the distance with fluid ease as her mind and body quivered into some delicate, feminine mush.

Everyone disappeared. Her peripheral vision funneled until she was alone with the most beautiful man alive.

His unique scent filled her lungs, and a shock of electricity jogged through her veins. Nerve endings laced tight at her spine, and she straightened, everything inside of her drawn to his scent. It was ... familiar.

A twinge of hesitation settled into her bones. The strangeness of the moment tried to register, but her instincts wanted no part of logic. She only wanted to ... what?

Her brow pinched. She was on her feet, unsure when she stood. What did she want to do?

Dear God, she wanted to rub up against him, drag her face along his jaw, lick every inch of his flesh. There was no precedent for this behavior, and she was embarrassed for even wanting such things.

She tried to look away, but a frisson of familiarity grabbed hold and she stilled. This song. This moment. This strange but beautiful man...

This wasn’t new.

They’d been here before. Details were so familiar she could taste the air of a different place and time on her lips. Visions of lazing in the sun skipped through her mind. Laughing and lounging. Touching. She remembered the weight of his hair threading through her fingertips and the scent of his skin.

She remembered singing to him. But how? She’d just met him. Was this another dream?

Her lungs worked to keep up with her hammering heart. The longer she stared and the closer he came the more certain she was. She knew him from her dreams.

Freaked out, she wanted to turn and run, but he was there—right in front of her, so she whimpered. He wasn’t just some weird guy who overtipped. He was literally the man she’d been fantasizing about for weeks.

“Your heart’s racing,” he said, voice as smooth as Kit Harington’s.

“Why do I know you?”

He gave the slightest smile as if her confusion pleased him. “Would you like to dance?” His hand reached for hers and she didn’t flinch away.

What was wrong with her? What happened to stranger danger? What was this primitive side of her that insisted he would be a good provider, and she should immediately take his seed into her womb to make lots and lots of babies with him?

She frowned as he lifted her hand, drawing her body closer to his. Flawless fingers, untouched by labor. Not the hands of a farmer.

“Who are you?” Her stomach bottomed out in a rush as her breasts brushed the hard wall of his chest.

“I’m Adam.”

The lyric, there are places I remember... It lingered in the air as she looked up at him. In that moment, he held her to the earth more than gravity.

Instinct told her she could trust him, but logic argued this was how women disappeared. Good or bad, her gut warned he’d change everything—and if she didn’t start thinking with her head nothing was going to stop him.