Chapter 19
“True evil is, above all things, seductive.”
—JOHN MITCHELL, BEING HUMAN (UK)
T hat fucking demon tortured me all night. I felt like I might literally go insane with need by the time he decided he was finished with me. He never ended up letting me come, and he forbade me to touch myself until he returned.
He had brought me to the brink so many times that when I got up to get dressed, putting on pants had nearly driven me over the edge. I was so sensitive and over-stimulated that something as mundane as walking was torture. My thighs rubbed against each other, and my clit burned with the need to be touched with each step. I didn’t even have room in my head to obsess about how much I hated my shadowy stalker. The fucked up thing about it was he had left me in so much need that I was now anxious for him to return to finish what he started.
I had been so distracted by the absolutely deranged torture I’d just endured that I nearly forgot I agreed to a training session with Reaver that morning. I groaned when my phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see that it was him.
Fuck.
Reaver:
I’m picking you up in twenty, deathtrap. Be ready .
Death had mentioned Reaver and Shem the other night. My heart started hammering in at the thought. Why were they still alive? Not that I was complaining. Reaver was a dick, yes, but I didn’t necessarily want him to be a dead dick—not anymore, at least. I definitely didn’t want Shem to die. I was playing with fire, and someone was going to get fucking burned.
‘Say it, or I’ll kill someone at your precious restaurant.’
I was starting to wonder if Death had changed the game and just hadn’t told me the new rules. Ever since that first night, he seemed more interested in punishing me through sex than murder. Maybe Reaver and Shem were safe as long as Death was happy playing with my… well, playing with me. I cringed and ran a brush through my hair. This was royally fucked up.
Finally, I got around to messaging Reaver back. I should probably start trying to distance myself as much as possible. I didn’t want to put anyone in more danger than I already had.
Lilith:
I don’t need a ride. I can take the subway. And stop calling me deathtrap.
Reaver:
It’s cute that you think you have a choice. I’m already outside. You’re also already saved as deathtrap in my phone.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. My heart stopped.
Fuck me.
I hurried to open the door and found Reaver leaning against the frame. He was holding a to-go tray with two coffees and a greasy bag of food. He was in his motorcycle jacket again with his helmet under his arm. A piece of dark hair had fallen into his hazel eyes, and there was a sexy little half-cocked grin on his perfect lips — it wasn’t fair for him to look that hot when I was feeling this fucking horny. I tugged on my chunky beige cardigan and swallowed. Was it warm out? Why was I sweating?
“Morning, deathtrap. Sleep well?” he asked, pushing past me and letting himself in. He put the coffees on the kitchen table and pulled out what looked like a couple of breakfast sandwiches before falling effortlessly into one of the chairs and sprawling out.
“No, actually. I didn’t,” I grumbled, and he frowned at me.
“Oh, no? Why not?”
I avoided his gaze and sighed, moving to sit across from him at the little table. My pussy was on fire, and all I wanted to do was straddle him and ride his cock until I fucking came. This was absolutely nuts. I squirmed in my seat, rubbing my thighs together against the burn, and he raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to respond.
“I don’t know. I had a horrible nightmare.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. He unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite, eyeing me up and down. “What was it about?”
My face flushed, and I shook my head. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.” He raised an amused eyebrow and shrugged.
“I brought you a pumpkin spice latte,” he said, gesturing to the second cup in the to-go tray with a grin. “Bitches love pumpkin spice lattes.”
I eyed it warily, narrowing my eyes. “Did you poison it?”
He barked out a laugh, taking a sip of his own coffee. He observed me carefully over the rim.
“Is that how you do it? Poison?”
I scowled. “I don’t poison people, you asshole.”
“Sure. And I’m not ruggedly handsome and naturally good in bed,” he chuckled, reaching forward to snatch up the coffee. He took a long pull from it while maintaining eye contact with me the entire time. I squirmed in my seat again, feeling my nipples harden beneath my sweater. Fuck, I was so on edge.
His eyes shone as he put the coffee in front of me on the table, still staring at me.
“See? No poison.” His voice was dark, and I squeezed my thighs together under the table in frustration.
I snatched up the drink and huffed, looking down at the coffee-stained lid.
“Well, now it has your cooties all over it,” I grumbled. He got up and circled behind me, pulling my hair gently over my shoulder. I shivered as his fingers grazed my jaw. He pressed his mouth close to my ear, and I felt my face flush. For fuck’s sake, this was going to be a long ass day.
“You will learn to like my cooties, deathtrap,” he chuckled into my ear. Reaching around me, he grabbed my breakfast sandwich and bit into it.
“Hey — I thought you got that for me?” I protested but stopped as he held it up to my lips.
“Take a bite,” he ordered softly, and I looked down at the innocent little sandwich and shook my head.
“No, you just put your mouth all over it.”
“It won’t be the only thing I put my mouth all over if you don’t do what I say,” he warned, his voice a low growl. Heat flooded my core, and I felt a rush of wetness pool between my thighs. I squirmed again. My body was still on fire from being edged all night, and now this psychopath was taking bites out of my food and threatening to do the same to me.
How had my life come to this ?
“Don’t push me, deathtrap. You have five seconds,” he murmured, rubbing his nose into my hair. His lips brushed the shell of my ear, and I almost groaned out loud.
“Fine,” I snapped and bit into the sandwich, right over the spot he had just taken a bite.
He smiled against me and put the sandwich down on the table. I jumped when he gently wrapped his hand around my throat.
“Now swallow,” he ordered softly. I frowned but finished chewing and swallowed. He massaged my throat as I did, and I didn’t know why it was fucking hot, but it was. My clit was on fucking fire.
He chuckled softly against me and pulled away.
“Good girl,” he said, sliding back around the table to reclaim his seat.
“You’re a fucking psychopath,” I growled, but he just smirked and lounged back in his chair, watching me.
“Finish your breakfast, deathtrap. Then we’ll go to Voodoo.”
When we were done eating, I followed him out of my apartment and locked up behind us. I noticed he had a murdered-out motorcycle waiting by the curb and froze. I blinked, wondering why I hadn’t put two and two together when I had seen the helmet under his arm.
“Um, yeah, I’m just going to take the subway,” I said, shaking my head. He glanced back at me, looking amused.
“What? Are you scared? I promise I’ll be gentle if it’s your first time.”
My heart was slamming in my ribcage again.
‘I’ll kill someone at your precious little restaurant.’
How did I tell him that I was scared, just not for the reasons he thought? “Reaver, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’ve seen the headlines. People who spend too much time with me end up dead. I know you keep making jokes about it, but this is serious.”
My demon may have let shit slide up until now, but there was no way he was going to be cool with me straddling a bike and clinging to Reaver from behind. Reaver just laughed and pulled out a spare helmet he had strapped to the back.
“Put this on, deathtrap,” he ordered, handing it to me. I shook my head, biting my lip.
“Reaver…”
“That wasn’t a request.” His good mood evaporated, and he flipped like a light switch back to asshole Reaver. I cringed. “Put it on and get on the fucking bike, Lilith. I’m not going to tell you again. ”
I sighed. Whatever, it was his funeral. I took the helmet and slid it onto my head. It smelled like cloves and cardamom beans. Reaver stepped forward, shoving his fingers between my brow bone and the helmet, checking to make sure it fit properly. Then he adjusted the strap under my chin. He slammed down the visor and smacked the top of the helmet twice.
“You’re good to go. Hop on,” he said, pulling on his own helmet and swinging his leg over the bike. Fuck he was hot. Something about a motorcycle helmet… Goddamn. I wanted him to fuck me while wearing that thing. Jesus fucking Christ, where had that thought just come from?
I was glad that he couldn’t see the flush that I could feel heating my cheeks. I did what he said and got on behind him.
“Hold on tight. I’m going to be fucking pissed if you fall off!” he yelled over his shoulder before firing up the bike and kicking up the stand. As I settled in behind him, I realized there was another big problem with riding the bike with him to Voodoo.
The whole machine was vibrating, and my pussy was pressing into the seat and up against his ass. I could feel the hum of the machine almost directly on my already needy clit.
I panicked. What if I fucking came on the bike? Would Reaver notice? Would Death know?
Before I could say anything, Reaver shot off into traffic, and I screamed, wrapping my arms around his waist to keep from falling off. The relentless rumble of the motor between my legs was excruciating. It took all of my focus and energy to make sure I was sitting in such a way that I wasn’t in danger of finishing what my demon had started the night before.
We came to a red light before the on-ramp to the freeway, and Reaver turned his head to glance back at me.
“Stop squirming so much and sit still!” he yelled back, and I huffed in my helmet. I couldn’t sit still. If I did, I was going to come in my fucking pants. Death would definitely kill Reaver if I did that. If I wasn’t allowed to touch myself, I had to assume orgasm by motorcycle was also against the rules.
Once we were on the freeway, Reaver shot like a dart through traffic. He weaved in and out of cars in a way that I was sure was illegal. It definitely wasn’t safe. I screamed nearly the whole way until he got off at our exit. It only took fifteen minutes to get to Voodoo, but it felt like an hour. Reaver parked in the lot beside the restaurant and waited for me to get off the bike before following suit. He pulled off his helmet and grinned at me as I tried to level out my breathing. The adrenaline from the ride, coupled with the intense pulsing and burn between my legs, was overwhelming. I was nearly panting, and my hair was disheveled. My skin felt raw, and honestly, if he bent me over the bike and fucked me right there in broad daylight, I don’t think I would have said no .
“Good work, deathtrap,” he said, smacking my helmet before helping me take it off. He strapped it to the bike and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me into the restaurant. “Not bad for your first time.”
I couldn’t answer. I was shaking and so needy that even his arm around my shoulders was distracting. He led me through the kitchen, where the prep cooks were getting everything ready for the shift that night. He watched me hang up my coat and bag in the staff room before tugging me away.
“Alright, show me what you got,” he said, smiling at me as we made our way into the dining room. “Let’s do these stupid worksheets so you can show Rafael what a good little trainer you are.”
I scowled at him and retrieved all the work I had prepared for him from behind the bar. Grabbing the vodka bottle full of water, I set up a free pour station at one of the larger booths.
I gestured for him to sit down, and thankfully, he did so with no complaints. I took a seat on the far side of the booth, needing to keep as much distance between us as possible. There was still a small tremor in my bones, and I couldn’t seem to fully catch my breath.
Reaver tutted his tongue at me and shook his head. “Oh no, deathtrap. That won’t do. You’re going to sit over here with me,” he said. An evil smile curled on his face, and my blood froze.
“Reaver, please. Enough. Can we just do this and go home?” I begged, and he just chuckled.
“The quicker you do what you’re told, the quicker we’ll finish. Now come over here,” he ordered, and I groaned but got up and went to sit next to him.
He didn’t hesitate. The moment I was in the booth next to him, he slid his hand up my back and buried his fingers into my hair, massaging the back of my head. I shuddered as tiny bursts of pleasure erupted across my scalp. I felt my nipples peak, and an involuntary moan slipped out of my lips before I could stop it.
He chuckled, and I felt my face flush in embarrassment.
“Did the bike get my little deathtrap all worked up?” he asked softly, his breath tickling my ear. He skimmed his lips over my lobe, and I gasped, half expecting him to pull it into his mouth. He didn’t, but fuck did I ever want him to.
“If I slid my hand down your pants right now, how wet would you be?” he asked, and I jerked away from him.
“Reaver!” I snapped, turning to glare at him. His hazel eyes were full of heat, and he was mere inches away. His gaze dropped to my mouth again, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.
“Ah! You two did come in. That’s great.”
I yelped and pushed away from Reaver as Rafael approached the booth. Reaver glared at the bar manager but allowed me to put space between us .
“Y-yes,” I stammered, trying to get a hold of myself, “I was going to have him do the cocktail practice test and work on free pouring today,” I explained, smiling up at Rafael. He nodded curtly.
“Good, that sounds good. Bring the finished tests down to the office when you’re done. I also want to do a bar scrape before the review to make sure it really gets a good deep clean. I want it done before the buyout on Friday.” Rafael left, and Reaver scowled, flipping him off behind his back as he went.
I frowned at him. “I thought you guys were friends?” I asked, and Reaver shrugged.
“Friends is a stretch. We’ve just known each other for a long time,” he explained before sliding his hand around my hips and tugging me in closer to him. “But whatever, fuck him. Let’s do this stupid quiz. Stay close, deathtrap. I need moral support.” He smirked and picked up one of the pens I had brought over with the hand that wasn’t tracing delicate circles against my waist.
Turns out Reaver was a good bartender. He nailed the cocktail quiz on the first try, and when I asked him to practice free pouring, he poured a perfect ounce each time.
Part of me was annoyed that this asshole just seemed to be naturally good at everything. However, the other part of me was relieved. If he passed his damned tests, all it would do is make me look good. Also, once the quarterly review was over and his training was complete, he would no longer be my responsibility, and he wouldn’t be able to hold my job over my head. Overall, it was a good thing he seemed to already know what he was doing.
By the time the openers came in, I was feeling pretty good about how the day had gone.
“You did really great today,” I admitted reluctantly as we got ready to leave. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he followed me into the kitchen.
Mike was setting up the pantry, and I gave him a wave and a smile.
“Hey, Mike! Thanks again for the brownie the other night,” I said. Mike gave me a grunt and a nod, waving me off. He was a man of few words, but he had a good heart. I couldn’t wait to see what he would say when I gave him his little engraved spoon. I smiled to myself at how flustered he would likely get.
I turned to Reaver and found him glaring at Mike. A weird muscle in his jaw was pulsing.
“What?” I asked him. He blinked and turned his attention to me, giving me a dazzling smile.
“Nothing.” He herded me toward the back door that led to the smoker’s pit and held it open for me. I looked up at him, still feeling a little weirded out by how nice he was being. He looked down at me and cocked his head to the side, his striking eyes burning with some sort of emotion I couldn’t quite make out. He reached behind me and tugged on a strand of my hair gently.
“Let’s get you home, deathtrap,” he said softly. I opened my mouth to argue but thought better of it. I knew he wouldn’t let me take the subway. Until he passed his exams, he was going to have his way, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.
“Okay,” I murmured, already dreading how much the bike was going to vibrate against me. He tapped my nose and smiled at my easy consent to his will.
“Good girl,” he purred and led me to where he had parked the bike.