Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

water, remove the plastic wrap and ribbon from the bouquet,
and recut the stems of the flowers.
Then I try not to fidget as I arrange the flowers in the vase
and Kage stands two feet away drinking me in like he’s a
cactus in a drought-ravaged desert and I’m the first spring rain.
I’m so flustered by the intensity of his gaze, the floodgates
open.
“You hung up on me before I could tell you that Sloane
and her boyfriend will be joining us. Actually, I’m not sure if
he’s technically her boyfriend. That’s just what I’m calling
him because there’s really no polite term for ‘flavor of the
month.’ She goes through men like tissues. Not that I’m
judging her. I’m not. I’m just saying he’ll be there. This guy.
Oh, and a few of his friends, too, apparently. I hope that’s
okay. I know this was supposed to be our date, but actually,
it’s a double date. I mean, it is still our date, it’s just that more
people will be—”
Kage reaches out and gently grasps my wrist. “Easy,” he
murmurs. “Take a breath.”
I close my eyes and do just that. “Sorry. I’m not normally
this high-strung.”
“I know. Me neither.”
When I open my eyes and look at him, he’s looking back at
me with so much desire burning in his eyes that for a second, I
lose my breath.
He takes the kitchen shears from my hand, sets them on
the counter, and pulls me toward him, his grip on my wrist still
gentle. Coaxing, not demanding.
A “please,” not a command.
He winds my arms around his shoulders, grasps my waist
and pulls our bodies together, and gazes down at me.
His voice low, he says, “I haven’t stopped thinking about
you since the day we met. I’m not someone who obsesses over
things, but I’ve obsessed over you. To the point of distraction.
To the point where it interfered with my work. I can’t get you