Tasted

You know when you have found your prince because you not only have a smile on your face but in your heart as well. ~Author Unknown

..::Joshua West::..

I stuffed as many clothes as I could fit into my sports bag. I didn't know how long this job would take me. But then I honestly didn't care. It was a stupid job - one of those the High Council left for their panting little lackeys.

But it was a favour for dad.

Once I'd gotten everything in order, I jogged downstairs to say goodbye to everyone. Mom was in the kitchen with Naomi, trying to teach my elder sister how to make Key Lime Pie. It wasn't going to well. Though mom weaves magic in the kitchen, Naomi weaves chaos.

I leaned over and kissed mom's cheek. She ruffled my hair in return and kept talking about pastry. Naomi flicked her blond hair out of her face and mouthed, "Help me!"

I smirked. "Not a chance," I mouthed back. She hit my shoulder and I pretended to be wounded. She rolled her eyes and feigned avid attention in what mom was saying. Allan was at some high school party he'd been raving about for ages and Sean was on a date with some random chick, so I headed straight for where I knew dad was. The study.

He was standing, flicking through an old book. He didn't look up, but I knew he knew I was here. His senses were too sharp not to know. "I'm heading now dad," I said.

"To Haven?" I nodded. "Good. I'm sorry son. I know it's a crap job."

I shrugged and adjusted the bag. "S'allright. Isn't as if I've got anything better to do."

"You got enough money for a hotel?"

I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Yes, dad. I have enough. I'll call you with an update tomorrow."

"Be sure to do that. And careful with that Rogue."

"You know it." I turned and left, heading for the garage attached to the back of the house. In it were a collection of cars, but I ignored them and headed straight for my Yamaha FZ8. It was basically a Yamaha sport-bike chassis with less bodywork and more upright handlebars. It was originally made for the European market, so I'd had it imported.

I slipped on my rider's leather jacket and a black helmet. I stored the bag away and manually opened the garage door. I set it to shut in five seconds. I sat on the bike, twisted the key into the ignition, kicked it to a start and roared out just in time. I kept it at a low speed as I went down the driveway and through the black gate. The sky was dark and the streetlights shone with a sickly yellow light. I couldn't wait until I was out of town. It was late enough that there wasn't a lot of traffic on the road, which I appreciated. I wanted to go the speed I wanted to go at.

As I raced down the road, towards a small town called Haven, I thought about the job I was on. The Species Council, which my dad was on, had heard of an approaching threat in the form of a Rogue hell-bent on shedding some blood. It wasn't a big deal. Some Rogues liked to be left alone, but the rest either worked for the Rogue King or wanted to take power for themselves. So the threat was nothing new. In fact, they could have sent a human.

Instead, they'd asked my dad to take care of it. He'd asked me in return, for various reasons. One was because I was next in line for his seat on the SC. Another was that I was the best fighter available to him. And then he just wanted me out the house. Lately, he and mom had been organising these little parties, forcing me to meet all these other Vampyre women. They hoped that one would be my Mate. No such luck. Dad was tired and wanted to step down from his seat, but the only way he could do that was if one of his children were Mated. None of us were, and I was the one they put their faith in. Sean had no interest in Vampyre women and Naomi would never sit at the council. So I won by default.

I passed through another town, and just five miles out of it, something caught my eye. Sitting in a lay-by was a tough-looking blue Chevy. There was a woman leaning against the drivers door, arms crossed. She's wearing an innocent white summer dress. Her hair is hiding her, her arms are crossed and she just seemed crest-fallen.

I decided to pull over and ask if she needed any help. Haven wasn't far, I thought. I could probably give her a lift. So I pulled over and smirked when she looked up and froze. I had that effect sometimes. I got off my bike, took off the helmet and got my first good look at her.

Oh, shit. She was beautiful. Hot. Cute. All at the same time.

She was tall, but still smaller than me. She'd fit right under my chin. Her body was slim and graceful, her skin had a healthy golden tan that I guessed was natural. She didn't look like the type to use can-tan. Her face was barely dusted with make-up, but it made her look the better for it. Her features were petite, her small nose slightly perked up and she had the most kissable lips I'd seen in a while. Her eyes were wide with surprise and they were the most charming shade of blue.

Half a minute passed and neither of us said anything. I tucked the helmet under one arm and waved one clove-covered hand in front of her face, slightly worried and oddly pleased that I effected her like this. "Um, hello? Anyone in there?"

She jumped slightly and immediately struck her gaze away from mine. Oddly, I didn't like that. But then a cute blush crawled up her face and that I liked. "Uh, yeah," she stuttered. "Hi. Sorry."

I smiled to reassure her. "It's okay. Do you need help? You can borrow my cell to call a mechanic or something." I could probably fix whatever was wrong, but I decided not to say.

She looked down and I fought off the urge to tug her eyes back up to meet mine. She tucked some of her hair behind one ear and shuffled her feet. She cleared her throat and said, "I already called a mechanic. He said he won't come out until tomorrow. Thanks, though."

I twisted my lips in disdain. Bastard mechanic. I wanted to offer a ride, but then thought better of it. She'd probably think I was some creep or something. Not that mattered. Right? "Don't you have friends or something that can come get you?" She looked up slightly, but still didn't meet my eyes.

"He doesn't have a car." I raised one eyebrow and she shrugged. "He doesn't really need one. And he hates them. Says they're gas-guzzling monsters."

"Oh. Well, each to his own, I guess." I took a deep breath, then dove. "I can give you a ride, if that'll help."

I expected her to refuse, but she surprised me by saying, "Yeah, that would be great actually. I live about fifteen miles that way."

She pointed towards Haven. But just to be sure, I asked, "Haven?"

Her brows furrowed. "Yeah."

I answered her unasked question by saying, "I'm going there. Spending a couple weeks there as my holiday."

She seemed satisfied with answer and smiled at me. My breath caught. God, she was a stunner. How I wished she was mine. "As a holiday? Are you sure we're talking about the same place?" I chuckled at the unexpected sense of humour.

"I know it's not exactly typical holiday material, but I'm hoping to . . . unearth a few treasures." I'm not sure what made me say that, but I was glad I did. It made that blush come back. "So do you mind? Me giving you a ride?"

"Oh. Um, no. I don't mind. Just let me get my purse." I gestured for her to do so. She turned and got her purse out of her truck. While she did that, I got out the spare helmet I kept on the bike. When she turned back around, I was holding both.

I held one out. "Safety first." She took it and we both put the helmets on. I sat down on the back and waited for her to do the same. When she had, I called back, "Put your arms around my waist and hold tight." She did as I said, holding tentatively as if she didn't want to appear clingy. I smirked.

I started the bike with a start, forcing her to tighten her hold on me. We rode to Haven. I'd never ridden with someone else. There had never been a need to, but I found I liked it. Her smell wafted over to me. She smelled like soap and vanilla. I slowed down a little in a bid to make the ride shorter, but all too soon we were in Haven.

She gave me directions to her home. I had to admit, it was cute. Small, homey. I could actually imagine myself living here. Which was ridiculous.

When we stopped, she got off and I instantly missed the warmth of her. She handed me her helmet. "Thanks for the ride," she said.

I took it. "It's no problem. By the way, I'm Josh West." I held out one hand. She shook it.

"Morgan Bearing." MORGAN . . . I liked the sound of that.

"Well, I'll see you later Morgan." I PROMISE. "Have a nice night."

"Yeah. Um, you too." She gave me a small wave that I thought was cute. I put the helmet away and set off, going much slowly than I normally would. I felt her eyes on me the whole way.

OH YES MORGAN, I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN.

..::Morgan Bearing::..

This night could not get any worse.

About five miles away from the restaurant that had staged the failure of a first date, I sat in my stupid-ass truck, cursing whichever God had decided that was Pick-On-Morgan Day. I was watching the passing cars with a mixture of envy and anger.

I glared at the steering wheel. "Stupid-ass car," I muttered and childishly thumped the leather with the heel of my hand. Childish because all it did was make my hand sore. After a minute, I got out and tried to hitch a ride back home. After a couple failed attempts and some rude gestures, I gave up and leaned back against the warm metal door of my Chevy. The sky was beginning to darken and the temperature had dropped enough that goosebumps rose on my exposed skin. I let down my hair in a bid to keep warm. I crossed my arms under my breasts and crossed my feet at the ankles. I shivered.

I hate my luck.

After about ten minutes of silence, I heard a car with a throaty engine approaching. When it came close, I heard it slowing then coming to a complete stop in front of me. I looked up in a surprise and saw a motorbike instead of a car - a sleek, black, lethal-looking motorbike. And the rider looked just as dangerous. Tall - taller than me, which didn't happen often - slim with dark jeans and a black leather jacket that actually worked for him instead of making him look bulky. Then he took off his helmet and I felt my breath catch in my chest.

Oh God. This was my dream guy. This was the guy that I had been dreaming spending my life with. He had a strong jaw darkened by stubble. Chocolate brown hair that was long enough that it made me want to run my fingers through it, with a slight curl at the tips. And those enchanting green eyes that practically glowed in the dark. Oh my . . .

I came back to myself when I saw his leather-gloved hand wave frantically back and forth across my face. "Um, hello? Anyone in there?"

I blushed a deep, tomato red. JESUS MORGAN, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? HE'S JUST A GUY. Only he wasn't. He was my DREAM GUY. I cleared my throat and he lowered his hand, his scent wafting over to me. Mmm. He smelled like leather, real leather, and musk. "Uh, yeah. Hi," I stuttered stupidly. "Sorry."

He gave me a crooked smile that was a mixture of boyish and sweet. "It's okay. Do you need help? You can borrow my cell to call a mechanic or something."

I tucked my hair behind one ear and glanced down at my feet. Didn't know why the heck I was acting that way. I wasn't a coy person. But this guy made me feel like some silly school girl. "I already called a mechanic. He said that he won't come out until tomorrow. Thanks, though."

"Don't you have friends or something that come get you?" I looked up at him. Well, his nose.

"He doesn't have a car." At his dubious expression, I added, "He doesn't really need one. And he hates them. Says they're gas-guzzling monsters."

"Oh. Well, each to his own, I guess. I can give you a ride, if that'll help."

"Yeah, that would be great actually. I live about fifteen miles that way." I pointed. He followed my finger then looked back at me.

"Haven?" he asked.

"Yeah."

I gave him a questioning look and he answered with, "I'm going there. Spending a couple weeks there as my holiday."

Bravely, I gave him a smile. "As a holiday? Are you sure we're talking about the same place?" It as a lame joke, but he smiled anyway and even chuckled as if he actually found it funny.

"I know it's not exactly typical holiday material, but I'm hoping to . . . unearth a few treasures." His eyes met mine as he said that last part. I blushed. Oh jeez, he was a charmer too. "So do you mind? Me giving you a ride?"

"Oh. Um, no. I don't mind. Just let my get my purse." He held out his hand in an on you go gesture. I turned around, opened the door of my Chevy, grabbed my purse off the passenger chair, closed the door, dug my keys out of the purse, locked my truck and turned back around. The guy was leaning against his motorbike, holding two helmets.

He held out one to me, saying, "Safety first." I took it, put it on and he did the same, sitting down on the bike. The helmet was a little loose, but I ignored it. Hesitantly, I sat down behind him and placed my purse on my lap. He leaned forward and called back, "Put your arms around my waist and hold tight." I took a deep breath and put my arms around him, placing my hands on his flat stomach.

The motorbike started with a kick and a rumble that vibrated up my legs. He pulled out onto the road and sped up. I clutched at the material of his jacket tightly. I closed my eyes, basking in his warm scent. And just for a moment, I pretended.

I pretended that he was my date. Pretended that he was the perfect gentleman and had paid for our whole meal. Pretended that when he dropped me off, he'd kiss me with those lips of his and eat me from the mouth down. Pretended that I could call him my boyfriend. Pretended that he'd call me just to see how my day was going.

Pretended that he loved me.

When we reached Haven, he slowed down and I gave him directions to my home. He stopped outside it and I reluctantly let go of him. I got off the bike, took off the helmet and ahnded it back to him. "Thanks for the ride," I said.

His voice came through the helmet muffled. "It's no problem. By the way, I'm Josh West." He held out one leather encased hand. I shook it.

"Morgan Bearing."

"Well, I'll see you later Morgan. Have a nice night."

"Yeah. Um, you too." I gave an awkward, stupid wave. With a roar from the bike, he left. I watched him until he turned and the sound of his engine died away. Then I turned around and went inside. I left the living room undisturbed and continued straight to my bedroom. I quickly got undressed and changed into some pyjamas. Standing in front of my mirror, brushing my hair, my eyes were drawn to a photo I had taped to the reflective surface. It was of me and my older brother, Ben, on my sixteenth birthday. He'd taken me out for the day and we were sitting on a park bench with his arm around my shoulders. We'd gotten a passing tourist to take the picture.

My eyes flickered between the photo and my reflection cataloging the differences. There were a lot. For one, I when I was younger I was overweight, edging on obese. Now I was so thin my hip bones stood out. I had been really pale, albino pale because I didn't like going outside much. Now my skin glowed with a healthy golden tan. My hair had been a dark brown, almost black and had reached my waist in careless curls. Now it had lightened and streaked with sandy blond because I spent so much time in the sun and went just past my shoulders. Yeah, I had changed a lot. If my brother saw me now . . . he wouldn't recognise me.

I turned away and switched of the lights. I switched off my alarm too, craving a sleep in. Tomorow was Tuesday. I had Tuesday's and weekends off. I slipped into bed and relaxed into the soft pillows, closing my eyes and snuggling under the duvet.

I fell asleep, dreaming of green eyes and silky hair.