Chapter Fifteen
Theo
In a series of blinks, her expression turns from fear to shock to confusion to rage.
Watching the transitions is slightly disorienting, and when she bares her teeth, I want to laugh.
But time isn’t on our side. Those sirens are attached to cop cars heading straight to this house.
If we’re here when they arrive, we’re both in deep shit.
Especially with Lorry already on June’s tail.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Saving your sorry ass. Now let’s go. They’re seconds from surrounding this house.”
“You called the cops on me?” she asks, incredulity sharpening the edge of her voice.
“If I did, would I risk my own freedom to save you? We can argue later. Right now, we need to get the fuck out of here.”
Icy anxiety creeps through my limbs as I watch June look back at the slowly waking man, as if she’s contemplating whether killing him is worth the risk of being arrested.
Thankfully, she decides against it and follows me outside.
We leave through the back door, and the sirens are so loud they sound like they’re coming from inside my head.
I run as fast as I can, June impressively keeping pace.
Red, blue, and white lights fill my peripheral vision, and I know any second now, someone will see us fleeing the scene.
My lungs burn as I push my muscles to the limit, and we turn around a fence corner just as the cops converge on the old man’s house.
Reaching my bike at the curb, June wastes no time grabbing her helmet and buckling it under the chin.
She throws her leg over the seat, looking like she’s spent her life on a bike.
The sight momentarily punches me in the chest, and when her sky-blue eyes pierce into me through the open eye shield, my lungs empty of air.
“Theo!” she yells, snapping me out of the trance her beauty lured me into.
I get on the bike, push up the kickstand with my heel, and rev the throttle before we take off with a squeal that I’m sure leaves skid marks.
She holds onto my waist with all her strength, and though it makes it difficult to breathe, I don’t care.
The pressure is a reminder that she’s here, safe.
I make the drive home in record time.
If I expected gratitude for saving her, then I was sorely mistaken.
She climbs off the bike and storms inside without a word, slamming the front door shut behind her.
I allow myself five seconds to take a deep breath before following.
The door to her bedroom is shut, but I had the lock removed before she moved in, so I stroll over and throw it open.
She’s pacing the small room, one hand in her hair, tangling the blonde waves, and the other closed in a fist around the handle of her knife. At my entrance, she whirls around, eyes wild.
“What the fuck was that?” she demands.
“I could ask you the same. Didn’t I say to stay at the clubhouse?”
“Fuck you, I’m not a dog for you to order around.”
“Clearly. A dog would be easier to train.”
She answers by stepping forward and swinging her arm, the tip of the knife aiming for my neck.
In a flash, I grab her wrist, halting her mid-swing.
Then I yank her forward so her chest is flush against mine.
“This is familiar,” I say. She struggles against my hold, pushing at my shoulders and attempting to stomp on my foot. “Calm down.”
“Let me go!”
“Drop the knife and I will.”
Her eyes meet mine, and I swear steam billows from her nose as she lets out a huff. A moment later, she opens her hand, and the knife clatters to the floor. With my foot, I slide it backward out of reach, then let go of June. She instantly launches back, both hands curling into fists.
“Why the fuck were the cops there?” she asks.
“I don’t know, but I intend to figure that out,” I answer.
“Why were you there?”
“I thought that was rather obvious.”
“How did you know I was there? I left my phone in your saddlebag.”
“Yes, clever of you. But you had your wallet.”
She pauses. Her eyes widen at the realization. “You put a tracker in my wallet?”
I shrug, which seems to exacerbate her anger. I can nearly see sparks fly from her eyes, and I fully understand then. I think I realized what created her tornado days ago, but it’s finally real now.
June Graves truly is a reaper. She needs to kill, or the tornado will sweep her away. Or, more accurately with the rage emanating from her like heat, the fire will consume her if she doesn’t give it the blood it craves.
She’s every bit the ruthless murderer James warned me of and the serial killer Lorry suspects her to be.
And I’m more certain than ever that I’ll do anything in my power to keep her safe. Both from her own flames and those who would seek to extinguish them.
“It’s a good thing I did, or you’d be in the back of a cop car right now,” I say, relieved that my voice doesn’t give away my self-realization. “As much as I’d love to see you in handcuffs, that isn’t quite the situation I imagined.”
“Did you plant trackers on me anywhere else?”
Instead of answering, I say, “You were almost caught. You have to be more careful.”
“I don’t need you to save me.”
“Of course not.”
She growls in frustration. “I could have at least killed him before we left.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t wasted time knocking him out and waiting for him to wake up to start torturing him.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I was there,” I remind her. “I saw enough.”
Her face pulls taut, then she lets out what almost sounds like a howl. It’s a sound of anger, yes, but also of pain.
I take a tentative step toward her. “How long has it been?”
She glares up at me, not flinching at my approach. “What do you mean?”
“Since you killed someone. How long since you satisfied that hunger?”
“Fuck you,” she says, as if struggling to keep her guard up around the dirty secret she’s trained herself to keep hidden.
I move closer, making her tilt her chin up to keep her eyes on mine. “If that’ll help.”
June reaches up to shove me back, but I grab hold of her wrists as soon as her hands hit my chest. They smell faintly of chemicals. “Stop it.”
“Tell me,” I order.
“No.”
“If you need to kill someone, I can arrange that. The Saints have no shortage of enemies.”
Her lip lifts in a disgusted sneer. “I’m not going to kill someone simply because you don’t like them.”
“You can pick the target. But you can’t just go killing people without telling me.”
“I can do whatever I want. Contrary to what you believe, I’m not your little reaper.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Aren’t you?”
Fire fills her glare, and I suddenly want nothing more than to feel the heat of her flames on my skin.
“Let me go.” Her demand has lost some of its strength, but she continues tugging at my hold on her hands.
“Why? Isn’t this what you want? A fight?” I push her backward until she’s pressed against the dresser behind her. Her chest rises with a stuttering breath, and I feel her legs press tighter together.
“No.”
“Yes, it is.” Then, to prove my point, I force my leg between hers. The friction makes her inhale sharply. Her eyelids flutter, and her hips move, attempting to grind against my thigh. I smirk. “That’s what I thought.” Then I lean down and slam my lips against hers.
I didn’t realize how badly I’ve been wanting to kiss her until it’s happening.
She matches my ferocity, our teeth clanging together.
I push my tongue into her mouth and her answering moan shoots straight to my dick.
She rolls her hips against my leg and grips my shirt.
I let go of her wrists and plunge my hands into her hair, tugging at the strands and maneuvering her head back, allowing better access to her neck.
Then I lower my lips, sucking the skin at the crook of her neck between my teeth.
She’s as hot as I imagined, and I can’t spare a thought for the consequences of this.
She could burn every inch of my body, and I wouldn’t care.
“Theo,” she moans. The sound shatters any memory of self-control I had. I reach down, grab her legs, and lift her up without breaking contact with her neck. She gasps and clings to my shoulders with her arms. Before she can fully wrap her legs around my waist, I turn us and throw her on the bed.
The sight of her lying there, flushed, hair a mess, teeth biting down on her bottom lip, undoes me.
I climb on top of her, one hand traveling up her side, pulling her shirt with it, the other propped next to her head to hold my weight.
She meets me in a kiss when I surge down.
Her hands thread into my hair, and her nails scrape along my scalp, eliciting a groan.
Slipping my hand under her shirt, I palm her left breast. She’s wearing what feels like a lacy bra, and the thought of what it looks like curdles any logic with lust. I pull it down and pinch her nipple, pleased when she moans.
I abruptly sit up, and before she can look confused or upset, I grab the hem of her shirt and rip it up. She manages to lift her arms so I can pull it all the way off, and fuck, she is wearing a black lace bra.
“Holy fuck,” I groan. She smiles and wraps her leg around my middle, pulling me back down.
I grind my hips into hers, desperate for relief, and she matches the movement.
Leaning down, I pull the cup of her bra away for direct access.
Her loud gasp transforms into a moan when I suck her tit into my mouth and clamp my teeth around the nipple.
Glorious pain radiates from my scalp when she pulls hard on my hair.
I bite and suck until I’m sure there will be a bruise, then move to the other side.
By the time I’m done, she’s writhing beneath me, desperate for more.
And who am I to deny the reaper herself?
I reach down, unbuckle her pants, and push them down enough to plunge my hand inside and slide my fingers beneath her underwear.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “My little reaper is so wet for me.”
“Shut up,” June barely gasps, her hips raising in search of more pressure.
I chuckle and simultaneously bite down harder on her nipple, pushing two fingers inside. Her answering moan is nearly a yell. I return my mouth to her lips and swallow her next gasping breath. My fingers move deeper, and I press my thumb to her clit, making her push harder against me.
“That’s it, ride my hand.” By the tightening around my fingers, she likes the encouragement. “Come on, little reaper. Show me how much you want me.”
She does. She grips my back hard enough to leave bruises.
My thumb circles where she wants it most, and I watch her eyes squeeze shut at the sensation.
“You’re so fucking tight,” I say as I scissor my fingers.
My aching cock wants nothing more than to replace them and some distant part of my mind knows that I’ll never be satisfied until I’m buried deep inside her.
But not tonight. Right now is about cooling those flames enough to get her through a few more days.
So I work her with my fingers, letting her grind against my hand and swallowing every delicious sound she makes.
After I add a third finger, it’s not long before she arches her back and lets out the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
I feel her flutter and squeeze my fingers as an orgasm flows through her.
We’re both breathing hard, and she’s still holding tight to my shoulders.
I work her through the release, then pull my hand free from her pants.
I wait for her eyes to open before sliding my fingers into my mouth, her taste shooting south with the rest of my blood.
“Fuck, you taste amazing.” She watches me with half-lidded eyes in a satiated relaxation.
I sit back on my legs, and her eyes jump down to the evidence of my arousal.
“Not tonight, little reaper,” I say, despite the overwhelming desire.
She no longer looks like she’s on the verge of combustion, and that’s what matters.
I climb off her bed, leaving her lying there boneless and half-naked. “Sleep now. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about finding a more lasting solution to those flames in your eyes.” Then I turn and walk away, knowing that I just irrevocably changed everything.